Turning Timber
Bomilkar groaned. He felt like a behemoth had walked on him then a dragon had eaten him and spat him out along with a torrent of flame.
"Thanks Marak for a 'pefect' and 'stylish' way here." He said through clenched teeth, untangling himself from the wreckage of what was left of their land surfer.
"Don't blame me, blame… goblin engineering!" Answered Marak, also pulling himself from the wreckage, looking quite cheerful as usual.
"Never again. Never again. Never again. Never again." Came a rasp from under an upturned and surprisingly still whole piece of the surfer.
"Zurdi?" Called Bomilkar, walking towards it.
"I 'ere master, I 'ere." The upturned surfer replied. Bomilkar grabbed the upturned boat and pulled it up to reveal a crouched Zurdi, looking a little greener then usual. The goblin crawled out fearfully as though expecting for it all to become even worse.
And, as always on Zendikar, it did. This 'even worse' took the form of snakes, lots of snakes, in fact most might say to many snakes. From tiny tree snakes to massive cobras, from the harmless to the lethally venomous, from the mundane to the mana-infused the serpents, they all slithered upon them en mass.
It was just one or two at first, but after five steps into the forest the floor was writhing with them. The three companions started by merely brushing them off their legs, but soon each one was holding them at bay with drawn weapons, and not hesitating to kill them if they got too close.
After beheading the fiftieth viper with his machete, Bomilkar began to wonder if just maybe they were a bit too many, but what could they do? They couldn't turn back and so forwards was their only option.
"Bom!" Called Marak from behind him, making Bomilkar turn indignantly on him.
"Bom?" He asked, horrified at this nickname.
"Forget about that, right now you need to get rid of these snakes!"
Bomilkar saw the wisdom in his words, magic was clearly the best option to getting rid of this plague. He focused to gather mana and his plan hit a minor snag: the mana in the forest was all green, a type that he had no knowledge of, and was amazingly strong, so strong that he could barely feel red and white mana.
"I can't get rid of them, there's only enough mana around here for a minor spell." He told them. They both looked severely disappointed.
"Don't worry, there may be another way out of here." He told them smiling, reaching to the faint red mana, it was a poor amount but enough.
Unlike most spells this one had no noticeable effects when he cast it, and so the other two didn't realize he had even cast it. Then he started running, in an amazing burst of speed he was almost out of their sight before they had realized where he had gone. They ran after him, and discovered that they to, like him, had become extremely fast, leaving the mass of snakes behind.
"Amazing!" Yelled Marak, overtaking Bomilkar with an even larger grin then usual.
"Glad to see your having fun." Commented Bonmilkar, who was tiring quickly.
"Good work human, I knew you had it in you." Praised Marak, giving him a toothy grin.
His euphoria was brought to a halt when Zurdi let out a cry of pain from behind them. They both spun around to see Zurdi lying on the ground, an arrow in his back.
"Zurdi!" Cried Bomilkar, running (very fast of course) to his side, to his relief the goblin was still breathing, still it was close thing, he'd have to act fast.
He pulled the arrow out with a sharp yank, making sure not to widen the wound. He then gathered as much white mana as he could from the land and put his hand on the wound.
He let the healing essence of white soak into the wound, healing it in part. He didn't have enough to heal it completely so they'd have to make do.
An arrow imbedded itself in the soft soil, inches from his leg. The planeswalker took the hint and, grabbing Zurdi, ran speedily for cover behind the nearest tree, about a metre away.
He lay Zudi at its feet, drew on the white mana, then cast a spell that created a white ring of pure light around the goblin, putting him in a temporary stasis and isolating him from the world.
He smiled fondly at the frozen goblin, then set off to find their attackers. Of course he didn't set of by ground, because that would have been pointless. Instead he climbed the tree, which had a trunk about four metres wide and not vertical, but curved around a mana spike which made it a perfect path.
He soon reached a point where the trees were so close that they seemed to be linked.
Bomilkar drew his machete and set of through the treetops, searching for their assailants.
"Where did the masked one go?" Came a surprisingly civilized voice from nearby from nearby. Bomilkar crouched, trying to determine the source of the noise.
"He's not the only one that's disappeared, the Kor has too. I got the goblin in the back though. Stupid brute." Replied another, deeper voice, sounding quite pleased with himself. Bomilkar's blood boiled, he charged in their direction of the voices, running up a steep trunk.
He found three elves, each one armed with bows and swords and bearing many and intricate tattoos.
Using his speed, he was among them before they even realised he had arrived, hungry for their blood. His machete took out one with a swift slash at the neck, severing his windpipe. He knocked the second from the trees by shouldering him off the side, sending him screaming to his death. He was happy to see that the last one was the very one that had shot Zurdi.
The elf drew dual short swords, he didn't look as graceful or elegant as most elves on the other planes, instead he looked strong and wild, his face hard.
"My second kill of the day, come and taste my blades human." The elf grinned, not seeming at all perturbed by his dead companions.
Bomilkar replied with a yell of rage, leaping at his opponent with his machete poised to strike. However the elf was fast and sidestepped easily, laughing. Bomilkar landed and spun around to parry a slash from his opponent in the same movement. He parried the attack and twirled his blade with such force that he sent the elf's sword plummeting towards the far off ground. The human then went in with a stab of his own, but the elf was quick and parried with his remaining sword.
He was no longer looking so amused, instead he was looking annoyed. Gripping his remaining sword so hard that his fingers had gone white.
"Too much for you elf?" Asked Bomilkar, goading him into making a mistake.
The elf made the mistake, he put all his might into one attack, one strong swing at Bomilkar's torso, sending him completely off balance. Bomilkar ducked, narrowly avoiding it. He kicked out at the elf's front leg, sending him sprawling. The elf landed on the very edge of the trunk, and before he could get up Bomilkar was upon him, and pointed his machete at his throat at his throat.
"You think you have won, human? Even as you reach for victory, the fates snatch it away from your outstretched fingers." At the end of his sentence he glanced at something behind Bomilkar, and it was that that saved the human's life.
Bomilkar threw himself to the side, narrowly avoiding the volley of arrows that sped past him. The human turned to see more elves on a nearby tree, each one with a bow trained on his chest.
Bomilkar raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, trying to reach to the faint white mana for some protection.
The elf he had defeated picked himself up and pressed the blade of his sword at his throat.
"Do not trust fate human, because she always leads us astray." With those swords he raised his sword, preparing to strike the killing blow.
Suddenly there was a thud and he fell over backwards with a yell of pain. An arrow was quivering in his chest. Bomilkar glanced at the elves, to see that one of them, a female, had fired the arrow, and was already notching another one, pointing her bow at Bomilkar.
"Aim for the head and chest, I want him dead the moment the first arrow strikes." She commanded, clearly the highest ranking in the group and Bomilkar had to admit despite himself, strikingly beautiful, with a head of black shiny hair that fell perfectly around her head and tattoos that seemed to fit her perfectly.
"So this is how you fight is it, safe in your trees with your comfortable bows, you cowards." Said Bomilkar, hoping to goad them into an open fight.
"Silence!" Commanded the woman, her voice filled with rage. "It is not for you to question the ways of the Joraga."
Bomilkar laughed. "Silence? What are you going to do, shoot me if I disobey? You're going to do that anyway, you are a coward so live with it."
"Another word masked one, and you get an arrow in your throat." Said the she-elf, menacingly.
Bomilkar grinned as he readied his spell, mixing red and white mana for the best effect, this was going to be fun. "So shoot me then." He challenged. The elves seemed to hesitate, but then the she-elf nodded and they prepared to fire.
"On my command." Muttered the elf. "Three, two, one f-" She stopped in surprise as a hook came seemingly out of nowhere and cut the string of here bow.
"Sorry I'm late." Said Marak, dropping down from the canopy above and landing next to Bomilkar with the usual agility. "I had to wait until the… best moment to strike."
"You took your time." Answered Bomilkar, a bit peeved about not being alowed to cast his spell.
"I like to make an entrance." He said, grinning.
"Shoot them!" Ordered the she-elf, her elves fired with deadly accuracy, however halfway towards their prey they simply halted in mid air, to then be thrown back with equal force at their very owners. Only two elves were quick enough to dodge their own arrows, throwing themselves to the side in the nick of time.
"Good one Bom." Exclaimed Marak enthusiastically.
Bomilkar gave him a withering look, he loathed that nickname. But apparently nothing could diminish the ever cheerful Kor's good moods.
The three remaining elves, including the she-elf with a cut string moved in on them, jumping from branch to branch until they were on the same trunk.
They boasted long and sharp swords and two of them advanced upon them, while the last one of them raised a horn to his lips. A strong and loud sound severed the silence of the forest, making Bomilkar jump. However much worse was what it meant: reinforcements.
However before he could decide the best course of action the she-elf was upon him, and he barely managed to parry her first attack: she was strong, for a female.
Before he could retaliate she had spun around him and attacked him again on the flank, forcing him to concede a step to parry her next attack. She tried the same tactic again but this time he was ready and slashed at her in mid twirl, forcing her to dodge and interrupting her move.
Next to him Marak was fighting against the other two elves, luckily Marak was clearly in control of the situation, and his hooks that he wielded with such precision gave him a great advantage over his opponents.
Bomilkar parried yet another attack of the she-elf, he knocked her sword aside with sudden force, surprising her and leaving her front unprotected. He stabbed at her chest and she barely managed to sidestep the attack, leaving herself open once again. However before Bomilkar could move in for the kill she lashed out wildly with her free hand, scratching at his mask with her long nails. Bomilkar dropped his sword with a cry of horror, and then desperately pulled her hand off his face. She kneed him in the stomach and then put her sword at his throat.
"You aren't a bad fighter human, maybe we should keep you for the arena." She said, leering.
"It wouldn't go so well if you did." Said Marak happily, grabbing her from behind and putting a sharp knife to her throat. "Drop your weapon elf." He menaced, though he wasn't very threatening as he was still grinning.
She smiled thinly. "A Joraga warrior never surrenders."
Marak grinned. "I was hoping you were going to say that."
There was the sound of an arrow whistling through the air and the Kor let out a yell of pain, dropping his knife. They found themselves surrounded by fifty or so elves seemingly come out of nowhere, all with bows trained on the two of them and looking very menacing.
A lean and hard looking, grey haired elf stepped forward and bowed at the she-elf. "At your service, lady Revane."