AN: Any italicized words are translated from the characters native tongue, so an orc would be speaking orkish, and elf would be speaking elvish, etc.
Also I kind of change the whole ending of the film, but I'm trying to remain (mostly) true to established lore.
Reviews are very much appreciated, this is my first story and any tips or constructive criticism is really useful to me.
Chapter 1 – Knife to meet you.
After 142 years, Oakenshield is finally dead, by my hand, but at great cost. I had him pinned to the ice, my blade to his throat, ready to gut him, but he slid his blade into my stomach, wounding me gravely.
He attempted to roll us, so he could finish me off, I had enough strength left to prevent it and cut his head off using my blade.
I climb to my feet and slowly remove the blade from my gut, the pain is nothing, and the scar will be impressive.
I look down at his corpse, a smirk crosses my face.
I spit on his corpse.
I stoop down to grab his corpse, when a voice shouts from behind me.
"Turn around you foul creature"
I turn around slowly, before me is the she-elf, the one who risked her life for Oakenshield and his scum, she has an arrow trained right at me, there is no way I'd survive if she fired.
"The battle is lost she-elf, Oakenshield has fallen" I reply.
"I do not speak your black-tongue, beast" Her bow remains fixed on me, but I can see from her eyes that she has wept.
This is good news, if I taunt her, she may get sloppy, lower the bow for a second, anything to give me an advantage.
"What is wrong Kalus*? Did your Vok** die?"
This visibly shakes her, her aim begins to wobble, even if she doesn't understand the black speech, she understands it enough for my words to hurt her.
She is distracted for a split second, I rush her, taking her by surprise and throwing her backwards across the ice.
She quickly regains her composure and rolls through, drawing her sword.
She leaps forward, anger and hatred in her eyes.
I quickly raise my blade, blocking her initial strike, she attacks furiously, raining blows down on me, and it takes everything I have left to not get hit.
I stagger backwards as she attacks, she presses her advantage, forcing me backwards.
She continues her attack, forcing me back further, though I have a huge size advantage, my injuries and her anger give her an unusual strength.
I keep retreating, she can't keep this pace up for long.
As she keeps raining down blows, I keep blocking her strikes, waiting for her to slip up.
Then, an opportunity, she slows up for a second, so I strike, kicking her away from me.
She staggers backwards, I lunge forward again, throwing her backwards.
She rolls through again, stopping on one knee, but she doesn't stand up, she just stops and looks down to the floor.
This puzzles me, why would a warrior just stop, give up, is it a trap? A ruse to make me lower my guard?
I slowly advance towards her, my blade kept just in front of me, as I move she doesn't even look up, she just stares at the floor.
I place my blade on the back of her neck, ready to execute her.
"Finish it, I… I can't…" Her words trail off.
Her anger seems to have subsided, only to be replaced with sadness.
I hesitate, I don't know what's happening to me.
I've killed hundreds of elves, why is this one any different?
"What sorcery is this?!" I shout, taking a step back.
The she-elf looks up at me, tears streaming down her face.
"FINISH ME!" She screams up at me.
I stand there in a daze, staring straight at this elf, unable to harm her.
There is something about her, I can't explain it, but I can't bring myself to harm her.
I'm brought to my senses by one of my commanders shouting at me from behind.
"Sir, the battle is lost! The Eagles have arrived!"
I turn to face him.
"Order a retreat, Oakenshield is dead." I reply calmly.
I glance over to the corpse.
"Take the body with you, his head will make a fine trophy"
"Yes sir, what about the she-elf?" The commander inquires.
I look back to her, she is still staring at the floor, tears running down her face.
"Sir? Shall we bring her with us as well?" Asks the commander.
She is unshaken by this comment, she just continues to stare at the floor.
"Sir?"
I kick her to the floor, and raise my blade above my head, she stares at me from the floor, our eyes lock.
I plunge my blade downwards, straight at her.
"What she-elf?"
* Kalus - Black Speech for Archer
** Vok - Black Speech for Dwarf
