Sword Saint
Chapter 1: The Hunt
The trees gathered in the deepest part of the forest were magnificent, tall and lush, towering symbols of vitality and peace. The borders of the sacred forest, guarded and watched over by mythical spirits, elves, and other woodland creatures, ready and willing to repel any malevolent intruders that dare trod upon such blessed ground.
And yet, there was one such interloper in this hallowed forest. It was slipping amongst the brush and huge tree trunks like a shadow, sniffing like a hound, examining the bark of ancient trees as well as the lesser undergrowth for signs of activity. But this trespasser was not alone. No, half a dozen more followed, being far less inconspicuous about traversing such difficult terrain; crushing the brush nosily, stumbling over unseen rocks and roots, cursing and grumbling all the while.
These were men, grungy and menacing looking men, all having narrowed eyes, dark hair, and no knowledge whatsoever about proper dental hygiene. Garbed in heavy battle armor, wielding long and sharp weapons, they looked fierce and well-accustomed to fighting. However, they had great displeasure from tramping about in this maze of woodlands. The sky overhead was dark, thunder grumbling, a foretelling of the rain that promised to come. Because of this, the forest was even damper and humid, making these men sweat greatly, much to their increased discomfort.
But their leader was not the same. First and foremost, not a man. A woman; a lithe and agile woman, unhindered and unbothered by the atmospheric conditions, leading this pack of warriors through the trees towards some unknown goal. And she had a far greater aura than those that trailed behind her. Far greater. It was more sinister and threatening; a clouded shadow seemed to accompany her. And her presence was far more brutal, her very steps, unheard though they were, left the earth trembling at her inner ferocity. This was of course displayed in her outward manner as well.
She would proceed quite a ways, waiting for those behind to catch up. When they did, she would always glower at them with a boiling stare which had one simple word written into her expression. Murder. And after a number of times of this advancing and waiting, she would bark at them, chastise them with her hissing voice.
"Move faster, you worthless cretins! If you don't walk quicker, then I shall peel the flesh of your miserable hides off your bones here and now and continue alone!"
"I'm sorry mistress," one soldier apologized, knowing full well that this was not an ideal threat, "But these woods are guarded by the elves, and there are many traps and ward spells here…"
"Do not lecture me about traps and wards fool! You think I am unaware of those? I was conscious of them long before you or your men! And I care not for your heartbreaking excuses! Just hurry! I am certain that he will not remain here much longer. If we lose him now, when we are so close…you all shall suffer."
There was a collective gulp from the six men at this, a humorous sort of happening; though no one present dared laugh. They were far too concerned with the fact that their lives were teetering so close to oblivion. Not to mention currently questioning their own sanity about letting themselves be hired by such a baneful woman.
On and on they went, more time of traveling past, the trees showing no signs of ending; the vegetation surrounding them, almost closing in and swallowing up their tracks. Finally, after much scrutiny of the path ahead, the dark woman held up a hand, inhaling through her nose. And it seemed from her skin as well, her whole body was tense and ridged. Then…she smiled. Upon seeing this, the men shrank back, wondering if she was about the slay them.
"He's close…" was all she said, there being a note of pure pleasure in her voice. "Just ahead of us…Captain," she turned back to the men cowering at her heels. "Ready your men. It's time for you to collect my prize."
"Yes ma'am. Alright men! Let's go!" With a short huzzah from his fellows, the party of seven advanced again, on the lookout for their target. They had received a basic description, but nothing that could truly be considered accurate.
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From out of the brush they came at last, into a small clearing, there being a noticeable sense of relief from the soldiers. That forest had been making them all feel a bit claustrophobic, the cramped space nearly wringing their iron resolves from them.
This relaxed state did not last long however, as when they caught sight of a figure in the shadows ahead, they tensed up once more. Rain began to drip down from the sky, slowly, a bit stronger than drizzling, but not a full downpour…yet. The men flanked the woman, spreading out behind her in a line, she leading the way.
The figure in the clearing was a man; his back was to them, staring upward by the looks of it, towards the sky. He was strangely dressed, not wearing any visible armor. Rather, he was garbed in what could almost be deemed as robes, a loose fitting gown or cape, as black as shadows, the tails of it being pulled in the wind. On his back, protruding from the collar of this cloak was the handle of a large sword, the bottom of which nearly touched the ground under his booted feet. His face was not visible, but he had long gleaming ebony hair, tightly braided, reaching just past his shoulders.
The woman paused, and placed her hands on her hips, staring out, cocking her head at an angle, scrutinizing and sizing up his own unmistakable aura. At last she spoke, with a light softness, but with an evil undertone nonetheless.
"So…I have found you at last."