Young Writers Society

The lead Harbinger watched as the group approached. He was well camouflaged, not even an elf would be able to detect him from ten feet away. Seeing the elven patrol get attacked wasn't easy, but it was informative. They enjoyed fighting against a greater number of enemies. Well, in that the Elites and the Harbingers were alike.

"Let's double the distance, we don't want them to detect us before the time is right," the lead Harbinger said. The word was passed on quietly, until everyone knew.

With one last glance, the lead Harbinger saw the Elites riding towards the cemetery.

"Let's go," he ordered. The Harbingers disappeared into the woods.

Seraph

We reached the gate of the cemetary in short order. Valin gave the order to dismount, and we all did so.

"Stay tight. Keep someone in sight at all times. Find a partner and stay together," I whispered.

Everyone nodded and paired off haph hazardly. With all the tension in the group, it was hard to work together.

I'd had enough of it.

"Valin--with Henry. If there's any silent killing to be done, you'll be doing it. Carmenia, stay with Cyrus. Do NOT leave his side." It was unfair of me to pair the four off like that, but it had to be done. Valin and Henry were the most capable of dlivering quick, decisive, and not to mention silent kills, and Carmenia needed to have a strong warrior at her side, watching over her.

"Finn--with me." I would not have her life be in the hands of one of the others. I didn't trust anyone enough to give them that sort of responsibility.

"Where's the ranger?" Cyrus asked.

I shook my head, indicating my ignorance.

"'E was back there. I lost 'im in the scuffle," Henry said. His eyes were still raging.

I let him be, for the moment. I had a feeling his anger would be needed, and soon.

"Move in--Valin and Henry, you're flying solo--the rest of us will stick together."

Valin nodded and slipped his bow from around his shoulders. Henry loaded a bolt into his crossbow. Without another word, they melded into the shadows of the cemetary. I turned to the others.

"Follow me. Keep your eyes peeled and touch nothing. We're going to lay low until Valin and Henry have...evened the odds, so to speak."

With that, I moved forward.

Valin
I had to give Seraph credit. He knew strategy. I'd have to discuss his knowledge with him at some point in the future. However, in the mean time, there was blood to be spilt.

Henry and I melted into the shadows, he with his crossbow, and I with my bow and daggers.
"Now, Henry, remember, lets not get our emotions mixed up in this. Quick, silent, and efficient, aye?"
He just looked at me and nodded. We melted into the shadows and sneaked into the cemetery, not even our footfalls making noise in the underbrush. We came up to a series of broken down planks that appeared to have once been a fence. On the otherside was a series of three large Cairns, and a tree.

With my sharp eyes, I picked out the shapes of four Elven bodyguards. I motioned to Henry what I saw. We both fired instantly, killing two, then immediately the other two got arrows and bolts through their skulls too. We couldn't risk them sounding an alarm through the ranks.

Henry and I began crawling to the Cairn to take cover behind its great size before moving on farther fowards towards our next series of kills. As we first approached the bodies, I began to read the heraldry and crests of the fallen warriors.

The closest to us, draped in red, with the Crest of a dragon and the Rune of Ka'leh, was the second son of a lesser noble, Ildran of Tor Anrec. I sighed inaudibly what the Preisthood was convincing my people to do. I vowed then and there to make sure that they were, indeed, stopped, and that I did, indeed become king.

Henry began to defile one of the otehr bodies, of some lesser noble for Inroc.
"Henry, no!" I hissed. "Save your emotions for later, now we must focus on the task at hand" I tried to be quiet as possible, but unfortunately Henry's human ears could only pick up pitches above a certain decibal. I feared I was too loud. As we sat behind the Cairn, scanning the horizon, and listening, my worst fears were realized. I heard the crunching of leaves, and the next minute saw an Elven warrior come upon us behind the Cairn.

He yelled out to his comrades that something was amiss, but before he could give any details, he found my dagger in his throat, and his neck snapped. It was too late, however, as a loud shout went out throughout the Elves, that there were intruders amongst them.

"Shit," I said in common, then expounded many times fouler in Elven. "Henry, it looks like we may have to fight our way out close-quarters. Stay close" I said, drawing my swords, as I heard, rather than saw Seraph and the others rush into the cemetary.

The second I heard the elf's dying shout, I sprung into action.

"Move!" I hissed to the others. "If we hesitate, Valin and Henry are both dead."

I heard their footsteps behind me, and prayed that Finn was staying close. I followed the shout, rounding the corner of the large stone tomb we'd taken shelter behind.

Directly in front of me, his back to me, stood a priest of Bane. His arms were held in front of him and he was standing absolutely still. His voice was low, muttering incomprehensibly. It was then I realized that Valin and Henry werer just beyond him, engaging the three of the remaining elves in close combat, and the priest was in the midst of spellcasting.

He was too focused on the others, however, and my blade plunged into his back, out through his chest in a gout of blood.

"Give Him my regards," I whispered into the priest's ear as he went limp. I jerked my blade free, then turned to the others. Cyrus had rushed forward to engage another of the elves, Carmenia in reluctant tow--Finn was stanidng behind me, quarterstaff in hand. She was staring at me. Not looking into my eyes, like she normally did...just at me.

"Stick close. I don't want to see you hurt, Finn," I said to her. She blinked, then opened her mouth to say something.

Then her eyes widened and she shouted "Get down!" She rushed forward in an attempt to push me out of the way, slipping a dagger form her wrist sheathe as she moved. I didn't hesitate, dropping flat to my stomach as she let her dagger fly and dropped into a defensive crouch.

A ball of black fire flew over my head, crackling with what sounded like electricity. A grunt of pain issued from behind me.

Ha!

...At least, that's what I would have been thinking, if the situation wasn't quite so dire. Mere moments after stating that he would be taking on the responsibility for my safety--as if I wasn't strong or smart enough to protect myself--it was my dagger flying over his head to take out an enemy he never would've noticed otherwise. At least, not until his Lordship had been spitted on the guy's sword.

Ha. Bastard.

No, no, no. I should have been angry at the elves who razed my home, not Seraph Belfast, even if he was an arrogant, self-involved, gender-role perpetuating--

"Finn!" I looked up even as he grabbed my arm and dragged me roughly behind a nearby tombstone; my shoulder hit the stone painfully, and I glowered at Seraph as he pushed me further against it, using himself and his damnable red armor as a shield.

I rethought the insults I'd been crafting when I heard a loud crack a moment later and looked over to see that the ground in the general vicinity I'd been kneeling was now charred black and smoking slightly. "Thanks," I said dryly.

"Not now!"

I'm relatively certain he missed the rude hand gestures I threw his way, as a moment later he was off and moving again, sword out and shield raised. I watched him go, scowling, but was shaken out of my misplaced anger by yet another cry of pain. It bothered me that I couldn't identify the voice, but then again, with the blood rushing in my ears like that... well, it wasn't too surprising.

I snuck out from behind the tombstone, wrenched my dagger out of elf's throat, and dodged back behind a wide-trunked, gnarled tree, looking around for Seraph. I spotted him in a similar position nearby. "Hsst!" I called at him, trying to get his attention. "Hsst!" His eyes--or eye, I should say--met mine. "What now?"

Henry thanked whatever deity existed for the sword practice he had engaged with at the camp -- it was no saving his life. Instead of defending, he was taking Valin's advice from all that time ago in the caves and counter-attacking -- parrying, dodging and then using speed to attach forwards. The elf facing him was in all ways his superior though, except perhaps agility. Twice now the elf had sliced his skin, causing blood to dribble down from his palm and shoulder.

Valin was faring better -- the Prince had immediately knocked over one of the elves facing him with a quick kick, and then managed to wound the other quickly after. The second elf had risen once more and was defending well against Valin, though. Standing still was such a bad idea with the magically-able Priests so nearby.

The sword made a thwoonging sound as it swung over his head. He rolled to his side and blocked an overhead attack by the elf before regaining his feet and delivering two quick thrusts that the elf easily parried. The two fighters, sweating and tired, stared at each other, breathing heavily.

"Ready to die now, you whoreson?" Henry spat, and pulled off a technique he had been dying to try for a long time. He had loaded the crossbow again for a reason.

He threw his sword at the elf suddenly, and his opponent sidestepped the thrown weapon easily. But that achieved exactly what he wanted -- he rolled backwards, snatched his crossbow from his belt and fired. It took the elf in the chest and blood bubbled from his mouth before he fell, clutching the bolt in a futile attempt to save himself.

Valin was winning too, the second elf had retreated from the warrior's furious attack, and he tried to run.

Henry had already reloaded. He smiled, and then shot the fleeing elf in the back.

"Come on!" Valin shouted immediately. "Let's go help the others!"

Alden and Becky hurried along the path.

"We might be able to catch up with them still, the cemetery isn't too far ahead."

They turned the curve to see the cemetery. Balls of fire flashed on the hill, while shouts echoed from far away. A gigantic ruckus was being made.

"Looks like the group is in trouble! Stay close to me," Alden yelled.

They were both coming towards the cemetery at a high speed. With a shriek, Alden jumped into the cemetery and went after the nearest foe he could find.

The immediate danger momentarily gone, I leapt to my feet without another word to Finn, and bolted toward the direction of the priest who had cast the ball of fire at us. He was standing behind the corpse of a long dead tree, and has been casting through a fork in the tree's trunk.

His eyes widened as he saw me coming, and I narrowed my eyes. It was the High Magus' first son, Brenneck.

His lips peeled back in a snarl. "Father will reward me when I bring him your blackened corpse, traitor."

I stepped closer to him as he weaved his hands in an intricate pattern in front of him, black whisps trailing his fingers as he wove a spell.

"Say it more loudly, Brenneck. Let your father know I am here for his head."

The younger man grinned, and in the dim light created by his spell, I could see he had not yet been Marked--at least, not his face. He was still a relative novice--but that did not make him any less dangerous.

I reached him just as he finished the spell, and I brought my shield up to defend in case he cast it at me. Keeping my eyes higher than the top of the shield, I saw him clench the energy into his fist instead of throwing it, and it elongated into a curved, black bladed sword.

"A gift from the Darkness--He has ordered your death, you know."

I grinned. Stopped a mere three paces from him. We squared off.

"Face me, then."

It was his turn to grin.

"You are nothing. You never should have left, my lord." He brandished the blade at me--he was obviously very familiar with it.

He let his feet slid to wider than shoulder with, taking on a strong offensive stance. I leveled my shield to him, and drew my sword back behind me, using my body to block his view of it, so he'd have no way of knowing where it was coming from.

Then, his grin widened and he pulled his other arm back to throw--I realized my mistake too late. I tucked my head behind my shield instinctively just as the ball of Black flame impacted against it. I felt intense heat blaze through my arm, and instantly I threw the shield to the ground--the flames were already melting through the tough steel.

Brenneck's power had grown exponentially, over the years.

Before I had even fully recovered from the Black flame, he was upon me, that Chaos Blade diving toward me quickly than I expected. I turned it aside, albeit with more difficulty than I'd anticipated. Something was augmenting him--he was no warrior.

That cocky grinned stayed on his face as I parried his attack again.

"You are nothing, without your shield."

He was partially correct. I had been taught to rely on my shield, my defense, to outlast my opponents.

But a shield was not my only form of defense. I shifted my feet slightly, putting one behind me and one in front, to gain a better weight distribtuion to compensate for the lack of weight on my off arm. My bad eye, however, was a large disadvantage--one he'd exploit.

His sword dived in at me, and I worked my own sword around it, the adamantine blade of Falthyr working a circle around the Black Blade and knocking it aside. I pressed the attack to put him back on his heels, and I worked past his defense, drawing a gash in his robe and meeting resistence beyond.

He leapt back nimbly, checking the damage to make sure he was not cut. He grinned. I drew my blade back, letting him gain confidence, and he pressed forward, working his blade in slow circles as he moved closer, his face reflecting his growing confidence.

"Father told me to alert him, should you appear. I knew he would not be needed."

Brenneck's problem, though, was not a lack of skill. It was a lack of caution. With a flick of his wrist, he shot the balde toward my neck. I fell back, feigning a stumble, and let my blade knock his aside a split second late, as if, had I not stumbled, he would have had me.

He waded in after me, swishing his sword side to side in an attempt to throw me off--I recognized each of these for what it was, and ignored them.

"I knew you were getting old, Lord Belfast."

I had heard enough. As he raised his blade slightly, preparing for his next move, I exploded toward him, batting his blade aside and plunging my sword into his chest.

"You should have listened to your father, Brenneck."

The dying man's mouth opened and closed, much like a fish's out of water. "Your father...is a much wiser man than you. He will be joining you soon."

He spoke quietly, then, bloody spittle spilling over his lips.

"Bane...will have you yet, Belfast."

I leveled my gaze to his and said, "He had his chance with me," I said, letting my armored finger slide along the scar over my ruined eye.

His eyes widened in realization. Then, with his last breath, he tried to speak. Then he died.

Sirloaz quickly and easily found Henry's trail; the ground was torn from his frantic run with on horseback. Also, accopanying the hoof prints, were a set of lighter prints, obviously running extremely fast, and chasing Henry. "Competition" Sirloaz said chuckling, "More to kill".

Running off in the direction of the hoof prints; they soon became lighter and lighter, as if he had slowed down, and then dismounted. Where is his damned horse!? he thought, clearly frustrated as he kept walking.

"There they are" he said, eyeing the weapons stashed on the side of the horse, paying no heed to his surroundings he slipped in a puddle of blood, barely catching himself he looked down and realized what he was standing in; the conjoined blood of two freshly dead elves. Their eyes staring up at the sky, a crossbow bolt sticking out of their throats. Reaching down Sirloaz grabbed onto one of the bolts, and with a sickening sucking noise it tore free of the neck. "Henry" Sirloaz said identifying the small bolt's owner.

Dropping it to the ground he stood up and walked over to the horse. The beast quickly became nervous, sensing the demon within Sirloaz. "Shhh, rest now" the he said, stroking the beast's neck as it slightly calmed down, its eyes still slightly frantic. Retrieving his other two daggers he put them in their proper places, and swinging his bow around his shoulder.

Drawing a dagger he raised it high with his right arm, then he stopped. "Those who serve your former Master are in the cemetery, i can hear the battle, can you not? kill them instead" said Sirloaz aloud.

"Just this once child, you may have saved this pitiful creature now, but just you wait" the voice said in reply as Sirloaz sheathed his dagger and made off towards the cemetery, creeping along the ground.

The shouting and clanging of metal on metal and the occasional explosion soon grew to a crescendo as Sirloaz approached the wall.

"Bane...will have you yet, Belfast." another voice said, Sirloaz hurried to the wall, only to catch a glimpse of a priest of Bane, impaled by Seraph's sword. Seraph then said something indecipherable, as another priest snuck up behind him.

"This bastard is mine" Sirloaz said quietly as he leapt over the wall catching the priest by surprise and grabbing his face in his hands, landing lightly to the ground and muffling the screams he slammed the priests skull on a tombstone; a resounding crack followed drawing Seraphs immediate attention. Upon a fleeting glance he recognized the Ranger, made a sharp salute with his sword and began back towards the battle.

*Carmenia*

The fighting was taking place all around her. She didn't want to fight. She did not want to fight! An elf warrior stepped forward, a blade dripping with wine red blood in his hand. Carmenia's heart pounded in her chest, and her pulse quickened.

"Saesi air bai baer--" The harsh clang of metal grinding against metal resounded throughout the forest, and Carmenia was barely able to block the vicious slice of the elf's blade. Her offer to be peaceful was obviously refused. Carmenia immediately took fighting stance, and it was apparent that both were masters of the sword.

He lunged quickly, but Carmenia managed to deflect the attack, and the steel narrowly missed her flesh. The battle between them raged on, mostly with him attacking and Carmenia defensive, and their skill was so perfectly matched, it was unforeseen who would be the victor.

Years of training took over Carmenia as she fought to survive. Her opponent, a black-haired elf with piercing, crystal blue eyes, moved with unbelievable agility and swiftness, not to mention inhuman strength. And yet Carmenia managed to keep her ground, fighting tirelessly, and with the same incredible skill.

"Wethrinaer!" She cried. Deceitful one. His eyes darkened to a deep sea blue color, and he suddenly let loose a volley of slices and cuts with such sheer force, it threw her backwards. A look of disgust curled his lips into a grin, and he kicked the sword out of her hand, sending it flying several feet away, landing with a thud on the pine straw floor.

"Gurth goth Tel'Quessir!" He roared, his sword raised above his head, flashing in the sun. Time slowed as the bloodthirsty blade came within several inch's of her heart. Suddenly she rolled to the left, her hand finding its way to her sword.

The shock of being so close to victory, and yet not being able to taste it, registered on his face, and for a moment, he was caught off guard. She sprang to her feet, and he snapped back into action. But it was different this time. Her movements became graceful and as smooth as liquid...and she began to dance.

A dance so intricate, it would confuse the best swordsman. The sword had become a part of her, and she used it to loose a series of complex footwork and swordsmanship, her blade whistling through the air with impossible speed.

She made precise, downward slice, the tip of her blade following his throat. He stepped backwards and tripped over a deceiving log, landing on his back, his sword thrown out of his hand. Carmenia had won. She had defeated him, and now she would kill him.

But as hard as she tried, she could not help but feel sorrow and pity for him.
"Any last words?" She asked, looking deep into his accusing eyes.
"Lle holma ve' edan." He spat out, refusing to talk in anything but Elvish. As soon as the words were out of his mouth, she thrust her blade in his throat, blood spurting up her blade.

She did not pity him, for he had said one of the worst insults possible in the Elvish language. You smell like a human.

Adrian wished he had had time to find a horse. Any would of done. He ran for what seem like ages when he saw in horizon unmistakable shape of a griffin. He ran again feeling intense pain in his hamstrings. He still ran. When he saw the griffin turn round. Adrian looked up from his pursuit could see Becky on a horse now with Alden.

Adrian stumbled and tripped he went to try get up, but his legs were in excruciating pain. He tried again gritting his teeth. He couldn't stand pain so gave up closing his eyes. Why did he have to be last one to try get a horse? So many whys flew through his mind. He heard a feminine whimper and horse snort, then unconsciousness took him.

"Looks like the group is in trouble! Stay close to me." Alden's shriek made Becky's blood curdle. He bounded forward.

She was forcing her horse into a gallop when behind her, she heard a metalic crash. Becky glanced behind, to see a figure, lying prone on the ground. She could investigate later. At present, there were elves to kill.

Becky nudged her horse. "Come on," she muttered. "Giddyup."

It neighed, defiantly, and remained still. "Move, damnit!"

Horses were horrible creatures. Big, clumsy and stupid. Becky had never liked them, if not downright feared them.

Slowly, Becky's horse moved in a circle, until it was facing the person in the path.

"Oh Hell. What d'ya want?"

It trotted forward. "Fine!" Becky said, exasperated. "Do as ya like! I don' mean nothin,' I'm jus' your rider. Come on, you 'orid, animal. Le's go."

It was definitely a human, she saw, as she got closer. Wearing full body armor. Had he been running in all of that? No wonder he'd collapsed. Becky whimpered sympathetically.

Long strands of black hair were protruding from the visor. "No," Becky said aloud. "No. It can't be."

Becky slid off her horse and pulled the helmet off. And of course. It is.

Adrian's eyes were closed. Out cold.

"Figures it'd be you," Becky said, pulling his arm over her shoulder. "C'mon, get up. Tha's it."

Becky heaved the paladin onto her horse. He groaned, and mumbled something unintelligible. His sword was lying in the middle of the path. She grabbed that too, then mounted. Her horse trotted forward with out complaint.

Several minutes later, the cemetery was looming ominously in front of them, silent this time. Becky wasn't sure what to make of that. The fight was over, one way or another.

Adrian awoke with a start and pulled his head away from her back. "Erm. What- where? Oh. Sorry."

"You alrigh'?"

"Yes."

"Apar' from the insanity bit I mean. Are ya nuts, by the way?"

"What?"

"Runnin' in full plate armor. Firs' thin my father taught me. You gonna dress up like tha', you take a horse."

"I couldn't find a horse. Do you have my-"

"Here." She handed him his blade, noticing for the first time a strange blue aura around it. "Does it... do that often?"

"No. Last time it glowed so intensely was when I swore an oath to avenge Sedgeley."

Becky looked at him, but her response was cut off by what she saw on the other side of the cemetery hill. The battlefield was quiet. Seraph was cleaning his blade and Henry was checking something on his bow. Alden stood over the bloodied body of a priest.

Becky jumped off the horse, Adrian dismounting behind her. They had killed them with out her. Becky had missed her chance. She wanted to scream-- at Alden, at Adrian, at the stupid, stupid horse that had slowed her down, at all of them. She held her tongue though, biting her lip until it bled.

"It's done, then?" Becky asked finally.

Seraph

I looked to Becky and nodded.

"Yes--for now. The High Magus was not among these killed. Be on your toes, for I've a feeling this is far from over," I said.

"The High Magus?" Valin echoed.

I nodded again, curtly. "Gather the corpses of the dead here--if there are any clues to be found as to the details of their mission, they would carry it on their person. No one is to rummage through the corpses until under supervision of the group."

This statement brought more than a few incredulous stares from the party. When they hesitated, I said:

"Come one--we haven't much time."

With a shrug and a shake of his head, Valin reached down the grabbed the corpse of the elf he'd killed and dragged it to me. The others followed suite, some with more difficulty than others. I walked over to Finn to help her with the priest (a man whose face I recognized but whose name I did not know) she had killed, and grabbed the collar of my first kill, as well. Together, we hauled the two bodies to what had become a sort of the macabre circle, not a word exchanged between us. Our eyes did not meet, not once.

Soon, everyone had managed to drag their respective kills together. Cyrus was the last, dragging both of his kills by their hair.

"There then--didn' steal nothin', did I laddie?" he said indignantly, dropping the bodies to the ground.

I ignored him, then dropped to one knee to search the man at my feet.

"If you find anything, put it over there," I muttered to the group, pulling a small pouch from the man's belt and, without looking at is contents, tossing it off to my left, away from the bodies.

*Carmenia*

No. They were not stealing from the bodies...were they? It was bad enough to have to kill one of her own, but now they were stealing?

This was not right. Shakily, she got down to her knee's and searched her slain opponent's body. What else could she do? If she refused...well...she wasn't sure what they'd do.

They would think she was against them, and she wasn't quite sure who she was allying with yet. All she knew was she would do what she had to to survive. She put a few items in the pile, and figured that was about it.

Suddenly her fingertips brushed against a heavier object. It startled her, but she glanced around and saw no one was watching. She closed her fingers around the object and pulled it out.

It was a small Elvish stone. Her heart caught in her throat, and had she not forced them back, her eyes would have filled with tears.

Home, the word was whispered in her ear by a soft breeze. The stone in her hand seemed to pulse with a heartbeat all its own.

This was of no consequence to anyone else, she knew, and it definitely had nothing to do with their mission, so she slipped it into her pocket, enjoying the feel of it when it bounced against her leg as she stood up.

(OOC I've no idea how Seraph would answer Dono.OOC)

Adrian looked over bodies in disgust. These people though all dead still gloated. As if to say your all going to die. He bent down and looted first body to hand. One of the priest. These souls deserve no respect. They killed for sake of killing, this injustice Adrian couldn't stand. He found. Nothing..., but some loose coins and some grisley trophies. He threw down the trophies in pure disgust. These monsters had no right to live he thought as he threw down first body in anger and looted an elf missing an arm. The search found a few scawled notes and some spare coins, he put them on pile. He looked round to see everyone different emotion as they looted the bodies. No one spoke. Adrian bent down to loot another body it was priest, but unlike others, this one he found had pendant round it's neck with sign of Bane. Adrian clenched his fist in anger and tore the pendant off. He looked at this sign closely and the priest face. The marks... they were simalar if not exact same to what Seraph had. He threw it down and crushed it with his boot.

Adrian stood up and marched over to Seraph. Why is priest i just looted got simalar tattoos to ones on your face?, Adrian demanded."