Disclaimer: I don't own elves or any other mythical creatures...though that would be awesome if I did. The 3 main characters are based on me as Tathor, and my two friends who are Calgaer and Eleniel. I own the characters, but not the people.
A pale elven archer whispers over his shoulder, "Sire, they approach." The tall figure behind him nods, drawing his two short swords. The moonlight breaks through the tree leaves, briefly illuminating his silver armor. The shape of a hawk is engraved on his breastplate and on his shoulder armor.
He murmurs in a low voice, "Slay." Arrows rain down from the trees, followed by thuds and loud curses. "Blades," he whispers. He drops from the tree limb and lands on the shoulders of a furry beast, pushing it to its knees.
The large elf plunges a short sword down into its skull, rolls to the ground, and beheads another beast before the first corpse can finish falling. Sounds of metal slicing flesh carry through the dark forest. Green clothed elves surround him and toss a struggling werewolf at his feet, bound in thick rope. Bloody swords are in each of their hands.
"Lord Tathor, an attempted escapee from the raid party," one says politely, kicking the werewolf in the stomach.
The king casually steps on the werewolf's neck as a sign of victory while pushing on the handle with his thumb. The blade splits into two swords and they turn until they are facing in opposite directions, the hilt matching up and becoming one again. He wipes off the blood on it on the wolf man's fur and inquires, "Why did you attack again, werewolf? Your kinds' raids of my kingdom never end in your favor. Surely your leaders have noticed this."
"You can only stop so many of us," it snarls. "How will you fare against the orcs, goblins, dwarves, and us combined, I wonder." He spits up blood as a hoarse laugh escapes his throat.
The elven king lifts the werewolf up by the throat and glares into his eyes. "There is no such alliance, dog man."
"Says you," the werewolf spits, a drop landing on the king's cheek. The elf glares deeper into the werewolf's glistening eyes. He calmly flicks it away with a finger.
Tathor states, "You annoy me with your lies." He reunites his split blade and sheathes it. Tossing the werewolf into the air with one hand, he draws a lightning-shaped short sword and slashes off the beast's head before it hits the ground. He draws a red cloth from his belt and slowly cleans off his blade. "Confirm his claim and get Eleniel and Calgaer to come to our kingdom," he whispers. The elves leap into the trees and disappear into the dark woods.
The king strolls back towards the tall castle surrounded by thick woodland. "It should be interesting to meet the other elven royalties," he muses out loud.
Queen Eleniel's Kingdom of Middle Land:
"Purple cows, charge!" a loud voice shouts.
An elf shield maiden turns to her queen. "Purple cows again, ma'am?"
Eleniel glares at her dangerously. "Make the purple cows charge," she grinds out. The goblins in front of them look at each other in confusion. The platoon sighs and pulls large purple-dyed cow hides from under their armor. They pin the cow hides around their breastplates. The goblins stare at them strangely. The platoon of purple-clad elves rushes forward at them with their swords drawn.
"Make them moo!" she screams after them happily.
The second-in-command and her platoon kick the stunned enemies onto their backs and hold swords and sharp arrows to their throats. The second ranking elf says tiredly, "Moo or we castrate you. I'm not dealing with her all the way back home talking about how you didn't moo." Moos slowly fill the battlefield. Eleniel jumps up and down, clapping her hands.
"Backwards spacemen sucking toast in their sky swamps!" she announces loudly. The platoon sighs and slays their enemies.
A messenger from Tathor's kingdom arrives on their way back to their castle. He bows and says quickly, "King Tathor of the Mythran Kingdom sends word that he would like to meet with you."
"Shredded cheese and blueberries make the moon," she replies matter-of-factly. Her Second whispers to him, "That means she'll come."
The messenger looks at the queen awkwardly and bows again, "I will relay the message, your Majesty." He thinks inwardly, 'I wonder how his Lordship will take her behavior.' The elf retreats through the fields and whispers, "I can't wait to get back to the forests of Mythra. I feel exposed here in the open fields!"
Queen Calgaer's Kingdom of Tundra:
The white-clad elves search the remains of a frozen battlefield. "Queen Calgaer!" they call with snow shoes, plodding through the thick snow carefully. The monstrous corpses of trolls lay across the battlefield along with the bodies of elves.
"My queen, please stop reading your books and answer!" one of them calls desperately.
They hear a book snap shut and a voice saying quietly, "I'm over here."
They follow her voice to find a huge mound of dead trolls. "She did it again, didn't she?" an elf whispers. The others nod and begin the tiring process of unpiling the trolls. "Good thing we got here before sunrise! Then we'd be moving statues!"
"Statues?" one grunts, pulling a troll from the pile.
The first nods, "Yeah, they turn to stone if they get caught in the sunlight."
"Ah, that's right," another answers. "Almost forgot about that."
The voice says, "Don't remove that one!"
"Why not, my Lady?" the Second rank elf inquires.
Calgaer giggles sheepishly, "Well, if you remove that one, then the pile will collapse on me and crush me. It's one of the supporting bodies."
"Supports!" an elf calls. Polar bears slowly trudge through the snow, dragging large support beams behind them. The elves take the beams and position them around the bodies. "Support!" it shouts. The body is removed and the support beam is put in its place before the pile can collapse. "Support!" They repeat the process several times until all the critically placed trolls are gone.
The polar bears reach past the support beams and carefully drag out the white-armored queen. She flips her two braided ponytails back over her shoulders and holds a book close to her chest. "Thanks, everyone. Let's head back."
"What about your battalion, ma'am?" one asks.
She frowns sadly, "They're dead. Let's go home."
The Second sighs at the sight of the book, "Your Highness, why did you have the bodies fall around you until you were covered again? You know how dangerous that is!"
"I was cold and it offered some protection from enemies and the elements," The queen replies reasonably.
A messenger from Mythra arrives on the scene. "What happened?" he asks, staring at the strange supported pile of trolls.
"Just a minor rescue operation," Queen Calgaer smiles. "What do you want, Mythran?"
He bows quickly and hands her a small sheet of paper. "King Tathor wishes to meet with you and Queen Eleniel to discuss an alliance. The goblins, trolls, dwarves, werewolves, and orcs are joining forces."
"But the dwarves haven't bothered us in years," she says. "The goblins and orcs fight Queen Eleniel, not us, and the werewolves fight King Tathor."
"We have a reliable source, Queen Calgaer," he responds.
Calgaer stares at him for a few seconds and slides the paper into her book before handing it to her Second. "Let's go wipe out their capitals."
"My queen?" Second exclaims. "We'll get slaughtered!"
"No, I won't," Calgaer replies calmly.
Second sighs and says slowly, "Ma'am, if we went to wipe out their capitals, then our capital would be left unguarded. Also, while I'm sure you would enjoy the battles, you may loose all of your troops, even if you wipe them out."
"That could be bad," she says absently, rubbing her chin thoughtfully.
"Yes, ma'am, it would be. How can you rule a kingdom with no subjects left?" Second finishes.
Her eyes widen, "Very good point! Okay, I'll meet with Tathor. Tell him I'm on my way." Second lets out a breath he didn't know he had been holding and nods to the messenger.
"I'll relay the message, Queen Calgaer," the messenger says respectfully before racing back across the snow, shivering in the cold despite his warm green clothes.
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