Chapter 1: Life Threatening Encounter with the Bear Men
The creature's roar echoed throughout the dark, nearly pitch black forest as it started forward. Then the beast charged with its maw snapping as it swung a moldy log with both hands around its head in an attempt to crush its target into a bloody, disgusting mess that stained the ground. It clumsily swung the weapon over its left shoulder and then downward but the individual it was seeking to destroy was far too nimble for such a mediocre attack to plant itself. The humanoid made a quick turn towards the monster's left side and jumped just under the incoming blow, leaving the attack to smash into the ground with a thundering quake. As the creature turned towards the person again he was several meters away lifting his arms in an attempt to calm the beast and communicate with it.
The individual, covered in a dark green cloak from head to toe, lifted the hood from his head revealing a handsome face colored violet with a bluish hue. He had long dark blue hair that hung limply from his scalp with long pointed ears piercing through, it was a night elf. One would guess his age to be in the early 20s had they not known of the longevity of his race. He appeared young, with a clean-shaven countenance that radiated a childlike rambunctiousness. He would have appeared naive had he lacked the long scar that crossed his face vertically from his left eye, covering a total of 4 inches with the silver sphere in the center. He pulled the rest of the cloak aside enough so that his entire body was visible. The rest of his body was slim but very fit and toned. His tunic, gloves, leggings, and boots were made of leather as black as the night that tightly covered his body, emphasizing his figure.
His silver eyes were blinking in surprise at the sudden attack. With a face mostly calm but with hints of aggravation, he tried to settle this affair peacefully as he announced loudly "I mean you no harm mighty furbolg, why do you attack without warning when I have done nothing to constitute your aggression?" He noticed it was hardly listening and added urgently, "I in all honesty do not wish to harm you… but if you do not heed my warning I will leave your corpse for the maggots and other scavengers of the forest!" The elf barked as he was losing his patience. This one in particular lacked the composure his race was known to possess, and he was quickly losing himself to rage at this affront. He pulled out a long, thin 2 handed scimitar that reached his own 7'1" height in its length.
The blade had several markings inscribed along both sides of its blade, as well as the hilt. The blade was of strange design as were the symbols, for neither the sword or the symbols engraved upon it were of night elf design or origin. Unusual enough was the fact that night elves preferred glaives over blades unlike other races, but this one was unlike any other in its shape and form. It was large, but very light and balanced, with an edge so sharp it could likely cut through anything organic. As extraordinary as this object was, the creature did not seem to care if it had even noticed.
The beast was angry as well, but it was no rational emotion in this one. No… it was a demonic taint that had been seeping into it and corrupting the creature until it became a mindless aberration. Its mouth was foaming and its eyes were red with dark green muck caked along the edges. Black fur with indescribable filth within covered the creature from top to bottom. The furbolgs, a noble and shamanistic race of humanoid bears, were peaceful and closely connected to nature. This one however seemed to lack any sense of itself or its environment, wishing only to destroy and devour.
As the elf began to notice the putrid stench of disease and death originating from the creature, he barely held back a retch. As he noticed the creature's appearance and smell, he instantly understood that there was something wrong. There would be no negotiations here he realized as he readied his weapon with the confidence that he would use it momentarily.
He looked around at his surroundings and noted that the muddy ground was covered with a fallen leaves, twigs, and the occasional remnant of a dead animal. Then he noticed there was a tree merely 4 meters to his left diagonally with a sloping trunk littered with cracks that allowed for easier climbing. After registering the circumstances in which he would be fighting, a battle plan began forming instantaneously. While the beast was indeed slow, it stood at an enormous 13 feet in height and 5 feet in width along with the strength to tear a decently sized tree from the ground and swing it like a club. Outsmarting it would be no challenge, but the beast clearly relied on instincts to fight and so favorable conditions would be preferred. He decided the immediate site of the battle would be about the tree that he had observed earlier.
"Very well then!" the night elf growled deeply. "I had hoped you would listen to reason, but it appears you lack a mind to comprehend conversation. So I do hope you will last long enough to entertain me and satisfy my bloodlust now that you have brought it forth!" he yelled as he burst forth into action.
The elf sprinted towards the tree just as the furbolg uttered a deep guttural howl and rushed forth with the intent to kill. The elf waited until the beast was only 5 meters away before he turned left towards the tree and quickly crawled along its sloped side. He looked over to the incoming bear man as he abruptly turned and waited for the incoming blow.
The beast grunted as it came to a halt and swung the log from its right to the left horizontally at the elf. The night elf quickly and gracefully jumped forth above and over the furbolg as the log smashed into the tree causing the tree to split in half and the log to explode into many decomposing pieces. Just as the furbolg turned its head to locate the elf, he made an upward swing from his left and severed the beasts left arm from the shoulder.
It unleashed a high pitched scream that personified the pain that burst forth from the large wound. It howled in agony as its dark red blood that contained small amounts of glowing green began to angrily spew forth from the injury. After a few moments it turned around with such a speed that denied the creatures mass, and it reached for the elf with its remaining limb.
The elf merely moved to the right of the arm and cut down, severing it from the elbow up. After this he quickly spun and jumped towards the furbolg and in a beautiful, fluid motion swung the blade from left to right, decapitating the bear man before it could utter another sound. As it fell to the ground he took in a deep breath and roared a glorious battle cry to celebrate his impressive victory.
Then, he wiped the sweat from his face and cleaned his blade over his cloak. He was used to such violent exchanges and even enjoyed them, though that piece of detail would never be spoken by him.
"Well then… I am quite disappointed in the performance you presented me. While I know you to be a peaceful people, I have seen the legendary ferocity of a furbolg in combat and you certainly did not come close to measuring up…" the elf whispered to the twitching corpse as he slipped his sword over his right shoulder into its scabbard. "Now… I shall depart before I am "welcomed" by your tribe, wherever you're from your greetings are… taxing." He added chuckling to himself at the end.
Just then however he heard a twig snap somewhere in the distance behind him. He was too late to realize he had company however, for just as he heard the noise a spear whizzed through and pierced his left shin. He fell to his knees, gasping for air, unable to even draw forth a sound.