Ah yes, the fun game of 'Confuse the Elf' is actually quite popular around here.
Ack!…Must…write…more…dig * gasp * deeper…limited supply of brain cells…sputter…*expires*. Ugh. Sorry! I tried.
First Encounters
"So you're the guy who's been jumping on the hoods of speeding cars." Buffy's statement brought forth one of the most baffled exchanges she'd ever been witness to. The young blonde in front of her squinted and frowned, then turned to his companion who frowned even deeper. The two both turned back to her, eyeing the Slayer with a renewed suspicion.
No party willing to move or comment on the current situation, all four instead held their ground in an awkwardly quiet stand-off.
Buffy, not exactly renowned for her patience, rolled her eyes, still keeping her crossbow firmly trained on the archer. He still had his bow drawn at full capacity; Buffy was somewhat surprised that his arms weren't shaking. "Do you speak?"
Again, the new arrivals looked to each other and Buffy began to get the feeling that maybe they didn't; maybe they were telepathically mutated…medieval guys. But the dark-haired man shattered her previous conceptions when he answered her.
"Yes we speak." His voice was low, deep, almost musically soothing. It was calm and assured, so much so that it was unnerving considering their predicament.
Buffy shrugged. "Well, that's a first." She meant to say it as a side-note, just for her ears, but being as there was no other sound, her sarcastic comment was heard by all.
Spike, who had by now scrambled to his feet, was completely over his initial shock of these two rude, yet dashing intruders, and was starting to get a little pissed. "Yeah, well, here's another first. First, who the hell are you, and second, there's the door." He pointed back up the stairs but neither stranger took the bait.
The wheels in Buffy's head were turning at an alarming rate. The demon, the arrow, the mini-tornado – "You're here for the demon." She blurted.
This created quite a stir in the men. The brown-haired man's eyebrows shot up in surprise; obviously he hadn't been expecting that. "Demon?" He repeated.
"Yrch." It was the first time the blonde had talked, in a voice so softly spoken, she was certain she didn't hear him right. As he turned to his partner, she also realized his ears were pointed, kind of like –
"'is name's Yurk?" Spike apparently had also heard the guy speak.
"Orc. Not a demon. They are known as the Orc where we come from." Buffy had decided to nickname the one who had just spoken as 'Scruffy'. Not that he wasn't attractive or anything, he just looked a little…mangy next to his impeccable friend.
"So where's that?" She asked.
The two men shared quick glances at each other and Buffy knew from the looks of it that she wasn't going to get a straight answer on that one. "Nevermind. The point is, you guys are the ones breaking and entering. So unless we all haven't got anything better to do than stand here all day aiming at each other, I'd like to get some answers."
"Yeah." Spike nodded his head vigorously. "Like where'd you get the sword mate?"
Buffy's attempt for a smooth interrogation had been gracefully shot down by Spike's moronic remark, but to his credit the intruders didn't seem to notice.
Scruffy was the first to accede. With one blink of his eyes signifying a quick rethinking of his situation, he sheathed his sword, but kept one hand casually gripped to the hilt. His blonde friend gave him an incredulous look, but with a defeated sigh he too lowered the bow.
In keeping with the new uneasy truce, Buffy lowered her crossbow, but dared not place it down. "Do you at least have names?"
"I am Strider." Scruffy placed his hand on his chest and gave a slight nod of his head. His voice had an accent, a flavoring of some kind she couldn't quite pinpoint. "This is my friend, Legolas." He gestured to the pointy-eared blonde next to him.
Buffy stared at him for a moment, taking in his long golden hair – she hated it when men could grow their hair longer than her – his pale skin and impossibly blue eyes. And the pointed ears. She was tempted to ask if they were natural or cosmetic, but thought it might not be proper etiquette.
"What are you?" Spike, ever the conscious etiquette vampire, was looking Legolas up and down with a confused stare.
Legolas was staring right back at him, with a slightly offended air to his demeanor.
"He's an Elf." Strider said it so nonchalantly, as though it was quite natural for one to have an Elf in his or her living room.
It was Buffy's turn to look startled. "You don't look like an Elf."
Legolas faced the young woman in front of him. "What do your Elves look like?" His voice was soft and comforting, with a slightly more refined accent than Strider's.
Buffy was straining to remember what the dentist elf looked like in 'Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer'. "Oh, you know. Shorter. Not so armed. Sort of craftsmen I guess."
Spike was staring at her. "That and they don't exist."
Another awkward hush fell on the crypt.
Legolas' voice dropped a decibel, until it was little more than a mumble. "I exist."
After some incredibly difficult introductions, (Strider could barely wrap his lips around Buffy's name – 'Bophy', 'Buppy' and so on) the four finally established that none among them was as evil as first thought. The three sat where they could find support and as Strider relayed his memory of how they came to be in Sunnydale, Legolas stood quietly to the side with a firm grip on his bow. Buffy listened attentively, as did Spike, but the more the story grew so did their concern. Strider brought his tale to a close and sat silently with his hands in his lap. Buffy glanced at Spike. "An interdimensional portal of some kind?" To which Spike nodded.
She looked up at the Elf who faced the door and seemed to concentrating all his energy on being their guard dog. So this was the hunter. "You said that you attacked the Orcs and then the portal opened up." Strider nodded. "And all the Orcs got sucked in. But we only found one Orc."
Strider frowned. "When Legolas and I arrived, we were not in the same place as one another. Perhaps this portal scatters all those that fall into it."
"And it opened more than once." Buffy pointed out. "Can we be expecting some more of your friends then?"
Strider looked at Legolas who turned his head slightly, giving him a brief but sad glance. "I do not believe so." The human answered.
"But you're sure that more than one Orc came through?"
"I am certain of it."
Spike was studying Buffy. "What are you thinking?"
Buffy slapped her knees before taking to her feet. "I'm thinking we need to patrol for some Orcs."
If ever there was a time that vampires felt concern, it was now. The gangs of bloodsuckers that dwelled beneath Sunnydale had been in a state of anxiety ever since the ancient chest had been brought back from England. The once motley crew of roving vampires were now a full fledged force to be reckoned with, thanks to the leadership of The First.
Unfortunately, The First seemed to be a tad bit preoccupied lately.
Billy was 16 when he first opened his eyes to the beauty that was being undead. For the most part, he looked like a gangly teenager with unkempt hair and badly scuffed boots. But whenever he felt the hunger, which was often, his true inner demon broke through. Right now however, Billy looked like a scared teenager as he watched The First from a distance.
"How's he been?"
Billy didn't bother turning around; he could recognize the gruff voice easily for that of Tanus. Tanus was a centuries old vampire. He looked like an aged biker, but Billy knew the surprising strength that lay within the vampire.
"He hasn't moved. Been staring at that stupid thing all day. What's if for anyway?"
Tanus grunted. "Show's him stuff. Dark magic stuff that you can't find on earth."
"This affects us how?" Billy commented cynically. Tanus swiped him across the back of the head.
"Stupid kid." The old vampire grumbled.
There was a commotion coming down the tunnel. Both turned to see two vampires, with bleeding scratches and gashes on their faces and necks, each holding the arm of a growling and yelping demon.
"What the hell is that?" Billy asked.
Tanus was staring at the demon with a mixture of disgust and wonderment. He thought it was a myth.
The two vampires dragged the howling thing into the deep cavern where The First sat, staring into his black stone. Even with the ruckus that was going on a few feet from him, The First remained oblivious. It was only when one vampire shouted to his master that The First swiveled around slowly, glaring deadly at the vampire disrupting his reverie. But his gaze fell to the squirming beast between them who was hissing with wild eyes. The First smiled. "Orc."
The creature stopped struggling but continued its uncontrolled hissing.
The First picked up the round orb with one clawed hand and walked towards the Orc who was shrinking away from him. "Do you know what this is?"
The Orc yelped and focused his eyes downward. "Palantir." He gasped.
The First's smile grew in terrifying proportions. "What is inside the Palantir?"
The Orc was positively cowering before him. "The Great Eye."
"Yes." The First bent down until he was inches from the creature's face. "Now tell me something." He stroked the Orc's face with one finger. "How does one become the Great Eye?"
For some unfathomable reason, this angered the Orc beyond all sense. He lunged suddenly, snapping The First's finger in his jaws.
With a roar that shook the stone walls until dust fell in clumps, The First backed up, holding his broken and bleeding finger. The vampires watching the spectacle were too stunned to move. The First quit roaring and immediately seized the Orc by the neck, lifting him from the floor with immeasurable strength. The Orc gurgled for air in The First's clenched fist, kicking reflexively as it suffocated. The First brought the Orc down to face level, and pulling back his lips revealed the full glory of his fangs.
All the vampires felt a sort of ecstasy watching their master feed. They stood spellbound, and one by one felt the familiar transformation in their faces. Their veins thrust out visibly as they salivated and groaned with the bloodlust.
In minutes, The First had sucked his victim dry. He threw down the limp body, wiping his mouth with satisfaction. The First suddenly became aware of his blood beating erratically in his veins. His head felt light, almost euphorically so. He slumped in his chair with a giddy grin on his face.
The vampires looked questioningly to each other. "Master?" One ventured.
The First was still grinning with a drugged-like composure. "That was good."
