Young Writers Society

I like this!!

a decade isnt that long in their life but it's a long time to be missing in a dangerous world

I know i'm not one to talk, hardly ever having access to a computer but, why arent you writin? its a good story, i'd like to read more.

hey, a decade for an elf is nothing--plus, he's a waywatcher, so he's used to being alone for long periods of time and wandering over the land he's been chosen to guard.

they've been looking for the waywatcher for a decade or did they just now decide after ten years its time to go look? Other than thta it was short but sweet.
~Torpid

"Without your help, I fear we would have been lost," Marreck said the the Elven Lord.

Felthyn nodded grimly. "The orcs are gaining power. They've set up a stronghold in the ruins outside your city. They must have a Mage, for my own have not been able to penetrate their defenses with magic of any kind."

Marreck scratched his salt and pepper goatee and asked "How many elves are under your command, Lord?"

"Just over three score."

Sixty heavily armed elves, Marreck thought to himself. What are they doing this far from the kingdom?

"We are searching for a missing Waywatcher. He has not returned for his report in over a decade. Something is amiss. Normally, we wouldn't worry about such a disappearance. But these are dark times, and the orcs, while fools in single combat, are dangerous foes when encountered as a force," Felthyn said to his human ally.

"A Waywatcher is missing?" Marreck asked, in awe at the mere mention of such a legendary warrior.

hey!! Where's the rest? its like 12 at night and i got nuthin to read!wats ure excuse, huh!??jj but seriously, write some more already,
~Torpid

Yes, Salvatore is flippin gifted. Where's Yurok? And i think i forgot to say this before but when i read yurok it didn't seem so elvenly a name but its your story. How many were in the squad before the battle? What does the human guy look like? Waiting for more.
~Torpid

"Aye, we have healers," the man's voice was soft and melodic, but his words carried the same weight and fierceness as Marrek's. He was obviously a leader. He reached a hand up to his cowl and pulled it back, revealing his elfin heritage. Long, blonde hair flowed out over his cloak, a single braid trailing down the left side of his face. The strand of hair was tied off with a leather strip, and a long, pure white feather hung from the end.

Marrek nodded to the man, sheathing his longsword. "My thanks, lord elf." Felthyn whistled low in the back of his throat and flashed a quick hand signal behind him, into the woods.

"My name is Felthyn, Lord of the Eastern Woods," the Sylvan said.

Marrek nodded again, and said "I know of you. I am Lord Marrek Lionheart, of Pelanthir. We owe you our lives, Master Felthyn."

"Tell your men to head into the woods. My healers will care for them. Fear not, you are safe in my woods."

Marrek turned to what remained of his troops, only ten men strong.

"Lieutenant--get them into the woods, our elven friends will care for you." Marrek watched as his grizzled veterans walked grimly toward the forest, nursing wounds. The last of his men carried an eleventh between them.

"His wounds are grievous, Commander." His lieutenant's face was streaked with tears. The warrior whom he now carried was his only son.

"The elves will help him, Gunthar," Marrek promised, clapping a hand onto his friend's shoulder.

Man, Bob Salvatore is my hero yo. I met the guy at Wondercon 2004.

Waywatcher comes from some old Warhammer class..I just stole the name :p

You dont happen to read R.A. Salvatore's Drizzt books do you, the elf's whirling blades against the orcs (in the earlier parts) reminded me of it. This is good, a little hard to follow with how people reply and you write and you reply and then you write some more but it's still great. I only question a few things (like what looks like a half orc letting a wrethched elf go) but everything is good. Right on! (and bring back the elf)
~Torpid

Thrusting his blade into a fallen orc's still heaving chest, Marrek Lionheart looked around, searching for the source of those silver fletched arrows that had so quickly cut down his foes. His men stood all around him, now only ten men strong. All were breathing hard, their chests heaving. They certainly were a haggard bunch, bloodied and exhausted from battle.

"Well fought men...our kingdom is safe once more." His men nodded grimly, going to the task of checking for fallen for any signs of life.

Marrek turned and looked out into the forest, curious as to who hadsaved he and his men.

"Many thanks to you,whoever thee may be...praytell, do you have healers? We are in need of their services!" he called out into the darkness of the forest. For a moment there was no answer--then a lithe form emerged from the trees. Dressed all in the colors of the woodland, the elf had an arrow knocked in his well-crafted bow. His long cloak was dotted with leaves and twigs sewn into the fine elven fabric.

I get the feeling it's Yurok, who is helping slay the orcs. I don't know, maybe he lead some of his fellow Elves to help the human's?

I get the feeling I did something wrong by suddenly switching away from Yurok...

Even as the remaining men of Pelanthir surged toward the orcs, a hail of arrows streamed from the darkness of the Eastern Forest and entered the orcs' ranks. The unfortunate goblinoids in front were cut down instanty, creating enough confusion for the men to hack into the second line.

Marrek did not question his good fortune, he simply fought. Cleaving an oricsh skull in two, he soun on his heel, deflecting a blade with his own gleaming longsword. Before the orcs could retaliate, a second volley of arrows tore into their ranks. Within seconds, the once proud battalion of nearly five hundred orcs was decimated.

Yay! Someone finally noticed that I'm still working on this!

In the first thirty seconds of battle more than a hundred orcs fell to the blades by the blades of men. Marrek Lionheart worked his longsword skillfully, slapping away orcish blades and returning with a slics that left pain death and destruction in its path. His men tore through the goblinoids like a wolf through a flock of sheep, slaughtering all who opposed them.

They worked as a team, each member assisting the other in a seamless dance of death. The battle raged for hours, neither side letting up. Orc corpses piled high around the brave knights, and the black blood of the foul creatures ran rivers through the plains of Pelanthir.

The battle took its toll on the men, however, as fewer and fewer humans stood to defend their country. Marrek watched his men fall beside him, often throwing themselves between a blade and himself. Soon, a mere dozen of the hundred warriors remained under Marrek's command. The orc army raiders were devastated; over five hundred dead, strewn around the circle of men. The remianing orcs, nearly a hundred strong, prepared to charge for a final attack that would finish the knights of Pelanthir.

Marrek looked to his mean, bloodied and ragged, and said to each and every one of them, "Stand strong, men. We have fought for our Lady, and won. If we must fall this eve, fall with the knowledge these foul creatures shall not penetrate our walls this day!"

His men, men he had fought with for a decade and more, smiled grimly.

"Till the End, Marrek," Lionheart's leiutenant procalimed.

"Till the End," Marrek repeated. He raised his bloodied sword above his head. "Send these beasts to the Abyss from which they came!"

*big eyes* he got out!

*smaller eyes, as the big eyes are giving her a headache* Nobody likes the orcs... *sigh*

Nearly a decade later...

"Open fire!" Commander Marrek Lionheart bellowed to his men. Letting his own arrow fly, he heard the distinct twang of a hundred other bowstrings beside him. The front line of charging orc faltered and crumbled, the second line already falling over them in a bloodlust to get to the semmingly helpless humans.

"Draw blades!" Marrek ordered his squad. Bows were dropped and steel rang out as swords and axes were pulled free of their scabbards. Marrek slung his own longbow over his shoulder and grasped the hilt of his father's longsword. His men stood ready at his side.

"Hold!" He cried. The order was unnecessary; these men had served under him for over a decade, fighting and dying for him without question. He stared straight ahead at the onrushing wave of orcs. Spying a great, green skjinned brute wielding a massive great axe, the knight swore softly "this day you will fall, beast."

When the orcs were barely ten meters away, Marrek signalled the charge. "FOR LORENNA!" He sacreamed at the top of his lungs.

The cries of a hundred men echoed through his ranks as they charged valiantly toward the sea of goblinoids.

The orcs moved toward the beleagured elf, brandishing their crude weapons. Yurok rised his swords, prepared to die as he had lived; as a champion defending all that was good. The first of the orcs, a brute with a distinctly porcine nose, charged at the elf with axe raised. Before Yurok could blink, a massive, black-fletched arrow struck the goblinoid's chest, knocking him back a step. The creature looked dumbly at the quivering shaft, then crumpled to the floor, dead.

"No one touch the elf!" a voice bellowed from behind the Waywatcher. Every orcish head in the area turned to regard the speaker. Balancing atop an overturned table, a tall, muscular orc lowered a gigantic long bow.

"The next one of you fools that tries to touch my prisoner will fall next to your comrade," the orc growled.

Yurok lowered the tips of his blades to the floor as the orcs took a few steps back from him.

"The elf has slain one of my Blackguards, and must be treated with respect," the cheiftan explained. More than one orc scoffed at the notion, but the remaining Blackguards quickly silenced them.

The Blackguard Commander leapt nimbly from his perch and strode toward Yurok. The sea of orcs parted before their great leader. He handed his bow off to another of his Blackguards, then stepped in front of the elf.

"What are you called?" the orc demanded in rough common.

"My name is none of your business, scum," Yurok spat. The orc grinned before responding.

"Watch what you say, elf, and you may walk away form this confrontation." The blackguard was not like the others in the tent. His black hair was painstakingly braided into a hundred dreadlocks, then pulled back over his shoulders. His brow was not as pronopunced as the other orcs, and his nose, instead of flat and squat, was sharp and human-like. The Blackguard's eyes shone with intelligence.

"I am Yurok, Waywatcher of this land," the elf said with as much dignity as he could muster.

"A Waywatcher..." the orc echoed. "Well, elf, you have earned your life by defeating my Blackguard. You are free to go...for now."

"And what, praytell, is your name?" Yurok asked.

"I am called many things; master by some, monster by others...but my chosen name is Mekkhah."

It took Yurok a moment to recognize the word--it meant "outcast" in the language of Those Unseen. Few spoke the tongue, but as defender of his land Yurok was required to know it.

"I will remember your name well, orc."

With that, Yurok spun sharply on his heel and strode toward the ring of orcs surrounding him. They parted wordlessly, letting him pass without contention.

i know... ^__^ tis fine.

I'll try to come up with something...but things are looking pretty grim for Yurok right about now...

*cries* i told the freakin goddess to help me, not to stop the story!

That may be the end actually....I mean, how is he possibly going to cut through dozens of orcs!? He's only one elf (a SYLVAN ELF ) after all!

wow.... that was good... The only thing that was strange was that part way through, you seemed to start refering to him as a Sylvan instead of an elf, and then back to refering to him as elf. But even that wasn't too bad, it was easy to figure out what you ment.

And now i want more, goddess help me.

Here are some things that I found:

The orc charged forward with a great double slash that would hasve decapitated Yuork--if he had been there.

The Blackguard's jaw dropped as Yurok vanished, then yelped in pain as Yurok drove one blade up into its lungs and the second through its heart.

What are you doing you fool?

From his trained ears, he could hear four of the beasts dozing in the center of the room, and two were on guard duty.

Yurok eased thwe orc to the gorund, then jerked both blades from its body.

hm...This was not particularly my style, so for me the interest level was a bit low. I really love your writing style though and your description was awesome! Keep writing!

You know Hunter, you always write well. I'd actually be surprised if you didn't, since you read these type of book so much and in such large amounts.

nothing? not even a titter?

An hour later, Yurok slipped into the orc encampment, undetected. He completely ignored the orcs sleeping by the fire, as well as those guarding the command tent. He headed straight for the Blackguards, residing in a tent just outside of the encampment.

What are you doing you fool? He thought to himself. He knew the answer without even thinking; the safety of his people had been placed in his hands, and he had to destroy these creatures, even at the cost of his own life.

The Waywatcher stood for a moment at the entrance to the tent, listening intently for any hints at the orcs' whereabouts. From his trained ears, he could hear four of the beasts dozing in the center of the room, and two were on guard duty. One of them was curiously missing. He ignored the missing orc and planned his next move carefully. With a deep breath, he slid his twin blades from their scabbards and dove into the tent.

All six of the orcs waited for him within. The closest had a huge grin on his face, his sickles in hand. It was at this moment that Yurok knew he had made a fatal error. He had underestimated the most deadly assassins on the continent. It would now cost him his life.

He did not hesitate for a second, diving toward the closest in wild abandon. His blades wove circles around the orcs own curved blades, but the humanoid kept pace, responding with its own calculated maneuvers that turned aside each attack.

Yurok sensed, rather than saw, three of the Blackguards moving in.

"Get back!" the orc he was fighting barked in the goblinoid language. Yurok p-ressed in further, trying to find a weakness in the Blackguard's defense.

"Foolish elf!" crowed the orc in common tongue.

Yurok ignored the taunt and concentrated on his target's eyes; he knew they would betray the orc's moves eventually. They battled for what seemed like a lifetime, neither gaining the upper hand. As they fought, more orcs crowded into the tent to watch.

This is how it ends for me? Yurok wondered silently. Suddenly, he saw an opening; the orc's left side was unprotected for a slit second after each double slash-low. Only novices made such a mistake. As Yurok followed the orcs's attacks and got his rhythm, he realized that the orc was much like himself in training; he had mastered his art, practiced to perfection, but had never faced an opponent he could not defeat by speed alone. The orc was fast, but predictable.

--Right thrust low--left slash high--double chop followed by mid slash left-to-right--double thrust--

It was exact the same routine Yurok had learned from his father while in training. He let the orc gain a slight advantage, knowing full well how he would respond.

The orc charged forward with a great double slash that would hasve decapitated Yuork--if he had been there. The nimble elf had used the orc's blade as an object blocking the orc's vision, and had moved with the blade as it went past him. To the orc, it would have appeared as if the elf simply diasppeared before him.

The Blackguard's jaw dropped as Yurok vanished, then yelped in pain as Yurok drove one blade up into its lungs and the second through its heart. Black blood gushed from both wounds, quickly filling the unfortunate creature's lungs and pooling onto the floor in lakes. Yurok eased thwe orc to the gorund, then jerked both blades from its body. As the creature lay dying, Yurok turned to face the onslaught of death that awaited him.

Yurok shifted his gaze to the outskirts of the camp, where a small band of orcs were entering the camp, the mangled carcasses of five deer upon their shoulders. Yurok gasped as he scrutinized them more closely.

Dressed from tusk to toe in dyed black leather, these orcs moved with fluid grace and a pompous attitude. Many exotic weapons hung from their belts, including a pair of wickedly curved sickles, a scimitar, and a massive long bow that loked as if it had been strung by a titan.

"Blackguard," the Sylvan whispered. A single orc of this caliber had not been seen since before the elven Waywatcher had been brought into the world, over a century earlier. The famed Blackguard of Gruumsh were once a great tribe of orc warriors that ruled the entire southern continent of Faerun, then called Erisa. These orcish assassins trained from birth to be nothing but warriors, skilled in every form of combat, be it bow or blade. They had been wiped out by a band of Sylvan warriors after a hundred years of rule.

Yurok blinked slowly, taking in every detail of these orcs. Trophies hung from every concievable spot on their bodies; ears, noses, fingers, jewelry, anything they could take. Yurok knew his chances of attacking the tribe had just gotten infinitely slimmer. Still he, knew he at least had to try, if only to kill one of these blackguards. He knew that for every blackguard orc in Faerun, hundreds of lives were in danger, they were so famed for their prowess.

"Die, beasts of Gruumsh" the Waywatchwer whispered as he slid down the tree trunk and into the shadows of the quickly rising night.

I've never actually used this character, just kinda had him in my head...

unfortunately, I don't have time write more...sorry guys...

Just...

For an orc, this creature moved surprisingly quiet.

Should that not be 'quietly'?

Otherwise, that was really good! Especially as you said it was an on-the-spot piece of work. Have you ever used that character before? I like the classic-fantasy style of the creatures... It'd be interesting for you to take this one on, see where you can go.

Bobo wrote:Cool on-the-spotting, man. Um... yeah. Good story. Write more.

Cool on-the-spotting, man. Um... yeah. Good story. Write more.

Nit picky is good lol

I wish all my readers editted this way!

I'll be sure to continue it...right now!

(I'll probably just write it while I'm online here...on the spot...)


The ocrish scout turned away from Yurok and hurried away, glancing over its shoulder with each step. Suspicious, (and perhaps a bit curious) the Sylvan stalked after the brute, his fine leather boots making not so much as a scuffle on the thick brush of the forest floor.

The waywatcher followed the scout for a mile and more, gaining a feel for his equipment and capabilities. A heavy crossbow was slung over his back, and a quiver of bolts hund loosely at his belt. Hanging from a baldric was a rugged but functional shgortsword, and a dagger was poorly concealed in the small of the orc's broad back.

The orc moved as quickly and surely as an elf over the woodland terrain, weaving in and out of the trees seamlessly. After fifteen minutes of tailing the orc, Yurok heard the telltale sounds of an orcish encampment. Grunts, snorts, and snarls accompanied the gutteral language of the golbinoid races, a tongue not unknow to the seasoned Waywatcher.

Not bad at all! I'd certainly like to see more. When can you have something ready?! .... Heh. Take your time, really. But do post. As for this, it's a little short, I think. However, that's obviously no big deal as you told us to expect more later.

My comments are less content-based and more diction, style and grammatical -- and kind of nit-picky, to boot. I hope you don't mind?

Yurok the Waywatcher pulled his cloak low over his face and gazed out from under the leaf covered cowl.

they would see nothing out of the ordinary, the wood elf blended so well with his woodland surroundings.

Yurok's long, pointedly sharp ears

The elf sat perfectly still, relying solely on his superior hearing to sense the intruder.

As the footseps grew closer, and markedly louder,

Yurok slowly drew his bow and strung it, pulling the string into position with expert precision/

green fletched arrow fromhis quiver

Yurok's nose cringed as he recognized the stench.

a green skinned brute stepped into his view

brought the point of the steel tipped arrow directly over its heart

Yurok's eye brows raised as he observed the creature's movements.

It left its hand for a moment, then stood up and looked around nervously.