![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sparkindarknessI figure if I keep writing them eventually they will get tired and let someone else have a go.
Right?
C'mon, I need this false hope
Asharra grimaced. The sun always seemed so much brighter in the morning - especially after a long night’s... discussion. Soravzha looked nearly as bad as she felt, hardly even bothering to skulk in the shadows. She still managed to move in her own pool of darkness though. Asharra shook her head, it was too early in the morning for weird things she couldn’t stab.
The elf looked annoyingly unaffected. Of course, he was an elf. He could have a huge, infected sucking chest wound and he’d still pretend he was OK. Asharra felt tempted to stab him just to see if he would ignore the blood. But then she felt tempted to stab everyone this morning.
Of course, before she did any stabbing she was going to chop the kid into a hundred little pieces. The little brat didn’t drink and was positively jolly despite the hour and everyone’s hangover.
“So,” he chirped as Asharra’s hand inched a little closer to her axe, “according to this map there are 3 routes to the Dwarf hold. Which one are we taking?”
Asharra gave him a brief murderous glare, “the shortest one.”
“But that goes past a lot of reported goblin camps...” he frowned.
“Good. There’s a bounty on goblin ears.” Asharra growled.
“Or possibly Kobolds...” He frowned at the key.
“There’s a bounty on Kobold ears as well.”
“What’s the difference between a kobold and a goblin?” Simeon mused.
“Bigger ears.” she growled back, checking the tack on her horse. She hadn’t named it yet. She rarely saw the point. You named them then some big gribbly monster with valuable ears would eat it out from under you. Then you had all the trouble to think of a new name.
“There’s this longer route that seems to avoid all major risks.” Simeon ventured.
Soravzha swung herself up in the saddle and answered while she settled her cloak, “these entire mountains are crawling with various threats - at least the goblins have driven off the unknown threats."
"Besides," the elf added, “navigating in the mountains is hard enough. Twice the distance gives us twice the chance of getting lost - getting lost in the mountains is more dangerous than any number of goblins.”
“Anyway, I like killing goblins. Best hangover cure in the world, disembowelling goblins.” Asharra growled. “Let’s get moving. The sooner we start, the sooner I can start killing everything that moves.” She spurred her horse forcing the others into motion.
Most of the morning was spent in extreme (and excruciating) boredom. If it weren’t for her pounding hangover Asharra would have considered this a good thing - boredom means things aren’t trying to stick sharp things into you. People trying to kill her would be a welcome break from her head trying to explode. She was almost disappointed that Soravzha turned out to be such a skilled scout and managed to lead them past 3 different bands of goblins. It was long past noon and her head was feeling almost tolerable before there was any sign of action
“Camp ahead.” Asharra nearly fell out of her saddle at Soravzha’s piercing whisper. “Nearly empty, most of their patrols are out. There is no easy way round on horseback.“ Asharra frowned and exchanged glances with the elf. A camp this close to the empire’s border? Had the land obsessed so much about the war that they had grown this careless? She shook the thought away. Not her problem. Not yet, anyway.
She shifted her attention to her weapons. Goblins - small, light, not especially tough, strong or well armoured but agile. Usually armed with whatever they could get their hands on - mainly rough spears, short bows and short swords. She pushed her axe onto her back and drew her longsword instead. She added her spiked shield to her left arm - a potent weapon in itself against goblins, and added her short sword to her right hip. She strapped her helmet down heavily over her braid and nodded to the others.
They all dismounted. The terrain was too rough for horseback fighting. Soravzha ghosted into the scrub uphill, seeming to blend and nearly disappear within seconds. Teltherisir was a silent presence following Asharra despite his long robes. Simeon contrasted by managing to snag his on every branch and rock, he looked pale as death and was gripping his staff so tightly his knuckles had turned white. Asharra sighed inwardly, they were all young once. She just hoped the kid would have a chance to grow old.
They crested the top of the rise. A dozen or so goblins, dozing for the most part. Some of them weren’t even carrying weapons. Asharra felt a feral grin twist across her face. She nodded to the elf, tapped her chest and gestured violently towards the goblins. Teltherisir returned the nod, indicated himself and the kid and pointed to the floor. They would stay and provide her distance support.
She charged, running down the slope as fast as she could towards the goblins. She didn’t scream battlecries - battlecries were fun but she generally prepared not to scream “shoot me” at the archers. She was nearly on them before the goblins noticed her. They began a frenzied scramble for weapons as she hit them. Her shield slammed hard into one goblin, its spikes and the force of her charge killing it easily. Her sword swung round, easily cleaving the skull of a second goblin. She let her momentum carry her forward, stepping over the corpses and kicking the next goblin hard in the stomach while she swung her sword round to a fourth goblin’s throat. She spun on the spot, bringing her foot down on the kicked goblin’s throat and changing direction suddenly, it put her off balance, but not nearly so much as the goblins who were trying to anticipate her movement. As she regained her balance she stabbed out at one of the reeling goblins, taking it high on the chest. A clumsy blow, but still fatal.
Her senses kicked into adrenaline fuelled overdrive. She focused on her next opponent, watching eyes and muscles to predict his next movement, at the same time her senses expanded outwards as she had trained on constant battlegrounds. She was aware of the unsure footing under her feet, alert to all the goblins and any possible ambush, even carefully considering her allies. Three more goblins had fallen, arrows killing them instantly. Two more were little more than charred husks. Even as she noticed them another goblin was engulfed in flames, nearby goblins reeling back with bad burns. She saw a bright flash out of the corner of her eye. Two goblins who had rushed towards the kid and the wizard were reeling, covering their eyes. Simeon was trying to inexpertly club one with his still glowing staff.
The remaining goblins were already beginning to break and run - courage was never a common trait among them. She slashed at the running goblins, watching as more fire and arrows brought down the stragglers. Asharra grinned at the corpses. A poor showing even for goblins, it looked like the weakest runts of the camp had been left behind.
“Ware arrows!” Soravzha yelled. Asharra’s instincts took over, throwing her into a roll and bringing her shield up. She felt several shafts hammer into her shield, one ricochet off her breastplate and a burning line of pain across her left arm. She swore angrily but couldn’t spare any time to check her wound. A mass of goblins had now appeared at the lip of the opposite ridge. She quickly estimated their numbers at over thirty. They rained a constant shower of arrows down upon them, not even trying to close the distance. She crawled as low as she could into the ruins of the camp, using what cover she could and cowering behind her shield. Pinned in place, she looked desperately to see how her companions had survived the wave of arrows. Soravzha was still hidden and trying to return fire on the goblins. At least she was still alive.
She turned to the elf and the kid and nearly dropped her shield in surprise. Teltherisir was stood in plain sight, his staff thrust up high and left hand surrounded in a fiery aura that was growing. Simeon was stood in front of the wizard, also in plain sight. His hands were thrust out in front of him, his staff held parallel to the ground. His eyes were closed and his lips were moving. Another flight of arrows flew towards them. Asharra looked on helplessly, their robes would offer no protection from even shoddy goblin arrows.
The arrows flew towards the two and suddenly bounced off as if they had hit a wall in the middle of the air. Asharra’s grin returned - the kid had talent. Fire flew from behind the invisible wall and exploded among the goblins. Asharra laughed as she saw half a dozen goblins fall and dozens more scatter in every direction with severe burns. The elf had some severe skills as well. Two arrows flew faster than Asharra would have believed possible and two goblins who had held onto their courage fell dead.
Asharra was never much of a spectator. Surging to her feet she galloped towards the milling goblins, her long legs covering the ground in vast leaping strides. A goblin, a leader by its feathered top-knot, tried to rally the mob before an arrows took him in the throat. Asharra was among them like a whirlwind, lashing out with sword, shield, feet and fists. It wasn’t fancy, it wasn’t stylish - there was no flashy flourishing of swords and no gleaming arcs of metal and no honourable challenges and areas you weren’t supposed to hit - but it was an extremely efficient way of killing things. She exulted in the feel of power and strength in her body and the frenzied high that only battle can bring. She resisted the urge to laugh (she had seen warriors laugh and roar their way into battle only to find themselves knee deep in enemies and completely out of breath).
Then the battle was over. Asharra was almost disappointed. Her arm burned, bringing her down from her high. She swore angrily under her breath, trying to examine the long cut across her arm. An arrow graze - if a cut that long and deep could count as a graze. She fingered her sliced leather arm guard, perhaps some mail wouldn’t restrict her movement too much?
Soravzha was already cutting off ears, and arguing with Teltherisir over whether the authorities would accept ash for the bounty. Teltherisir seemed to be suggesting that he would demonstrate how ears turn to ash if they wouldn’t accept them.
Simeon touched her arm. She began to snarl at him when she felt a warmth run over the wound, a gentle hand seemed to run along the wound and inside it. She blinked at the glow that seemed to build behind her eyes. When she could see again her arm was healed, there was only a smear of blood over perfect skin. She was impressed. Many priests claimed such abilities, but few had them and certainly none that young.
“You’ve got some impressive power, kid.” She said approvingly. Behind her Teltherisir nodded and raised his staff in a salute.
He blushed, “it‘s not my power, it is the power of Lord Kel-Sonnar. The Lord of Light.”
Asharra grinned and ruffled the kid’s hair. “Either way, I’m glad we’ve got you. And your god.”
Right?
C'mon, I need this false hope
Asharra grimaced. The sun always seemed so much brighter in the morning - especially after a long night’s... discussion. Soravzha looked nearly as bad as she felt, hardly even bothering to skulk in the shadows. She still managed to move in her own pool of darkness though. Asharra shook her head, it was too early in the morning for weird things she couldn’t stab.
The elf looked annoyingly unaffected. Of course, he was an elf. He could have a huge, infected sucking chest wound and he’d still pretend he was OK. Asharra felt tempted to stab him just to see if he would ignore the blood. But then she felt tempted to stab everyone this morning.
Of course, before she did any stabbing she was going to chop the kid into a hundred little pieces. The little brat didn’t drink and was positively jolly despite the hour and everyone’s hangover.
“So,” he chirped as Asharra’s hand inched a little closer to her axe, “according to this map there are 3 routes to the Dwarf hold. Which one are we taking?”
Asharra gave him a brief murderous glare, “the shortest one.”
“But that goes past a lot of reported goblin camps...” he frowned.
“Good. There’s a bounty on goblin ears.” Asharra growled.
“Or possibly Kobolds...” He frowned at the key.
“There’s a bounty on Kobold ears as well.”
“What’s the difference between a kobold and a goblin?” Simeon mused.
“Bigger ears.” she growled back, checking the tack on her horse. She hadn’t named it yet. She rarely saw the point. You named them then some big gribbly monster with valuable ears would eat it out from under you. Then you had all the trouble to think of a new name.
“There’s this longer route that seems to avoid all major risks.” Simeon ventured.
Soravzha swung herself up in the saddle and answered while she settled her cloak, “these entire mountains are crawling with various threats - at least the goblins have driven off the unknown threats."
"Besides," the elf added, “navigating in the mountains is hard enough. Twice the distance gives us twice the chance of getting lost - getting lost in the mountains is more dangerous than any number of goblins.”
“Anyway, I like killing goblins. Best hangover cure in the world, disembowelling goblins.” Asharra growled. “Let’s get moving. The sooner we start, the sooner I can start killing everything that moves.” She spurred her horse forcing the others into motion.
Most of the morning was spent in extreme (and excruciating) boredom. If it weren’t for her pounding hangover Asharra would have considered this a good thing - boredom means things aren’t trying to stick sharp things into you. People trying to kill her would be a welcome break from her head trying to explode. She was almost disappointed that Soravzha turned out to be such a skilled scout and managed to lead them past 3 different bands of goblins. It was long past noon and her head was feeling almost tolerable before there was any sign of action
“Camp ahead.” Asharra nearly fell out of her saddle at Soravzha’s piercing whisper. “Nearly empty, most of their patrols are out. There is no easy way round on horseback.“ Asharra frowned and exchanged glances with the elf. A camp this close to the empire’s border? Had the land obsessed so much about the war that they had grown this careless? She shook the thought away. Not her problem. Not yet, anyway.
She shifted her attention to her weapons. Goblins - small, light, not especially tough, strong or well armoured but agile. Usually armed with whatever they could get their hands on - mainly rough spears, short bows and short swords. She pushed her axe onto her back and drew her longsword instead. She added her spiked shield to her left arm - a potent weapon in itself against goblins, and added her short sword to her right hip. She strapped her helmet down heavily over her braid and nodded to the others.
They all dismounted. The terrain was too rough for horseback fighting. Soravzha ghosted into the scrub uphill, seeming to blend and nearly disappear within seconds. Teltherisir was a silent presence following Asharra despite his long robes. Simeon contrasted by managing to snag his on every branch and rock, he looked pale as death and was gripping his staff so tightly his knuckles had turned white. Asharra sighed inwardly, they were all young once. She just hoped the kid would have a chance to grow old.
They crested the top of the rise. A dozen or so goblins, dozing for the most part. Some of them weren’t even carrying weapons. Asharra felt a feral grin twist across her face. She nodded to the elf, tapped her chest and gestured violently towards the goblins. Teltherisir returned the nod, indicated himself and the kid and pointed to the floor. They would stay and provide her distance support.
She charged, running down the slope as fast as she could towards the goblins. She didn’t scream battlecries - battlecries were fun but she generally prepared not to scream “shoot me” at the archers. She was nearly on them before the goblins noticed her. They began a frenzied scramble for weapons as she hit them. Her shield slammed hard into one goblin, its spikes and the force of her charge killing it easily. Her sword swung round, easily cleaving the skull of a second goblin. She let her momentum carry her forward, stepping over the corpses and kicking the next goblin hard in the stomach while she swung her sword round to a fourth goblin’s throat. She spun on the spot, bringing her foot down on the kicked goblin’s throat and changing direction suddenly, it put her off balance, but not nearly so much as the goblins who were trying to anticipate her movement. As she regained her balance she stabbed out at one of the reeling goblins, taking it high on the chest. A clumsy blow, but still fatal.
Her senses kicked into adrenaline fuelled overdrive. She focused on her next opponent, watching eyes and muscles to predict his next movement, at the same time her senses expanded outwards as she had trained on constant battlegrounds. She was aware of the unsure footing under her feet, alert to all the goblins and any possible ambush, even carefully considering her allies. Three more goblins had fallen, arrows killing them instantly. Two more were little more than charred husks. Even as she noticed them another goblin was engulfed in flames, nearby goblins reeling back with bad burns. She saw a bright flash out of the corner of her eye. Two goblins who had rushed towards the kid and the wizard were reeling, covering their eyes. Simeon was trying to inexpertly club one with his still glowing staff.
The remaining goblins were already beginning to break and run - courage was never a common trait among them. She slashed at the running goblins, watching as more fire and arrows brought down the stragglers. Asharra grinned at the corpses. A poor showing even for goblins, it looked like the weakest runts of the camp had been left behind.
“Ware arrows!” Soravzha yelled. Asharra’s instincts took over, throwing her into a roll and bringing her shield up. She felt several shafts hammer into her shield, one ricochet off her breastplate and a burning line of pain across her left arm. She swore angrily but couldn’t spare any time to check her wound. A mass of goblins had now appeared at the lip of the opposite ridge. She quickly estimated their numbers at over thirty. They rained a constant shower of arrows down upon them, not even trying to close the distance. She crawled as low as she could into the ruins of the camp, using what cover she could and cowering behind her shield. Pinned in place, she looked desperately to see how her companions had survived the wave of arrows. Soravzha was still hidden and trying to return fire on the goblins. At least she was still alive.
She turned to the elf and the kid and nearly dropped her shield in surprise. Teltherisir was stood in plain sight, his staff thrust up high and left hand surrounded in a fiery aura that was growing. Simeon was stood in front of the wizard, also in plain sight. His hands were thrust out in front of him, his staff held parallel to the ground. His eyes were closed and his lips were moving. Another flight of arrows flew towards them. Asharra looked on helplessly, their robes would offer no protection from even shoddy goblin arrows.
The arrows flew towards the two and suddenly bounced off as if they had hit a wall in the middle of the air. Asharra’s grin returned - the kid had talent. Fire flew from behind the invisible wall and exploded among the goblins. Asharra laughed as she saw half a dozen goblins fall and dozens more scatter in every direction with severe burns. The elf had some severe skills as well. Two arrows flew faster than Asharra would have believed possible and two goblins who had held onto their courage fell dead.
Asharra was never much of a spectator. Surging to her feet she galloped towards the milling goblins, her long legs covering the ground in vast leaping strides. A goblin, a leader by its feathered top-knot, tried to rally the mob before an arrows took him in the throat. Asharra was among them like a whirlwind, lashing out with sword, shield, feet and fists. It wasn’t fancy, it wasn’t stylish - there was no flashy flourishing of swords and no gleaming arcs of metal and no honourable challenges and areas you weren’t supposed to hit - but it was an extremely efficient way of killing things. She exulted in the feel of power and strength in her body and the frenzied high that only battle can bring. She resisted the urge to laugh (she had seen warriors laugh and roar their way into battle only to find themselves knee deep in enemies and completely out of breath).
Then the battle was over. Asharra was almost disappointed. Her arm burned, bringing her down from her high. She swore angrily under her breath, trying to examine the long cut across her arm. An arrow graze - if a cut that long and deep could count as a graze. She fingered her sliced leather arm guard, perhaps some mail wouldn’t restrict her movement too much?
Soravzha was already cutting off ears, and arguing with Teltherisir over whether the authorities would accept ash for the bounty. Teltherisir seemed to be suggesting that he would demonstrate how ears turn to ash if they wouldn’t accept them.
Simeon touched her arm. She began to snarl at him when she felt a warmth run over the wound, a gentle hand seemed to run along the wound and inside it. She blinked at the glow that seemed to build behind her eyes. When she could see again her arm was healed, there was only a smear of blood over perfect skin. She was impressed. Many priests claimed such abilities, but few had them and certainly none that young.
“You’ve got some impressive power, kid.” She said approvingly. Behind her Teltherisir nodded and raised his staff in a salute.
He blushed, “it‘s not my power, it is the power of Lord Kel-Sonnar. The Lord of Light.”
Asharra grinned and ruffled the kid’s hair. “Either way, I’m glad we’ve got you. And your god.”
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2006-10-15 06:00 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-10-16 01:10 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-10-16 08:38 pm (UTC)It is that time of the year.
http://www.zombiehunters.org/