I take all credit for this except the name Drac, All other names and places
are mine. Please read and review, tell me what you think, did you like it,
did you hate it? Also, if you have any good story ideas, please share them
with me, I don't really know where I want to take the story from here, I am
open to ideas, write a review here, or email me at caots_@hotmail.com
Betrayal and War
10:00 P.M. Fri. July 6th
"Don't worry, for the hundredth time I'm just going out to check on the horses."
"I know, I know, but I worry about you Drac, I don't know what I would do if anything ever happened to you. Drac leaned over and kissed his wife on the forehead to reassure her before he headed out the door.
He sighed to himself as he left the warmth and light of his house, for the cold and empty darkness that was a winter night. He didn't really want to check on the horses, he had other plans to attend to. Drac made it about twenty feet from the house before he nearly ran into a tall figure standing just in front of him.
"Gees! Don't scare me like that!" Drac exclaimed, trying but not succeeding to calm his now fast beating heart. As he carefully looked about in the darkness, he was just able to make out two figures standing off to the side of the one in front of him. He knew there was more; he just couldn't see them right now.
"Do you have it?" The voice from right in front of him inquired.
"Y. Yes, but I." stammered Drac taking in for the first time the muscles and gleaming weapons that seemed to equally cover the six foot or so figure in front of him.
"Do you have it?" The voice repeated again, this time asserting more authority in the question.
"Yes here take it; everything is as you wanted it." Drac reached inside his coat, and pulled out a folded piece of paper which he handed to the person. When the figure had what it wanted, all three seemed to suddenly disappear.
"Man, they creep me out." Drac sighed to himself, he didn't like what he just did, but he didn't have a choice really, did he? Drac reassure himself that it was his job, as a father of two girls, and husband to a loving wife, to protect his family at all costs, even if meant handing over vital army positions to the elves.
That was, in fact, exactly what he had just done, he as the President of War, (Pretty much the actual President in all but name.) knew exactly were any and all human troops were, since he himself had ordered them there. He knew he had just doomed over a thousand men at the very least to die, but they didn't give him a choice. It was either move the troops as he had been ordered, or the blasted elves would kill his family!
A week ago Drac would have scoffed at any threat made against his family. For one, his family house, or rather, mansion was located in the very center of the booming capital of all the humans, Tiradel. And since Tiradel is the capital, there are always hundred of soldiers patrolling the city streets, and even more patrolling the outskirts to protect against any unwanted invaders. Not to mention the bodyguards that were everywhere in his house. Now, He didn't trust any of this to help him.
Eight days ago, Drac had received a letter threatening to kill his parents if they did not comply with what the sender wanted. He didn't take this seriously, and not doing as he was ordered had cost him. Two days later, his parents, (Of whom Drac had very generously given a room in his mansion in their old age.) were found dead in their room, stabbed while they slept. Later that day, another note arrived demanding the same thing except this time threatening his family.
The part that scared him the most, was not the note, but more along the lines of the killing, along with the fact that there was no evidence of how the elves got in or out of his house, For this reason alone, he decided it was wise not to take the elves in a joking way.
As he walked back into his house, he quickly silenced his wife, telling her to be quite so the kids wouldn't wake up, even though there was no chance of that happening. He just wanted it quite. He strolled into his kitchen, took out his finest wine, and poured himself an over flowing glass which he downed in two swallow. What had he just done? As this question dawned on him, and he realized just how many humans he had sentenced to death, he quickly poured himself another glass, closely followed by a third and fourth until he slumped to the floor, all but passed out.
5:03 A.M. Sun. July 8th
A scream erupted through camp making Jerrard stir in his drunken slumber. At first he merely associated the scream with his dream, that was, until he saw bright flickering lights shinning through the tent.
"What the Heck?" He wondered to himself, as he quickly got up, through on some pants, grabbed his sword, and headed out the tent flap, followed by the three other soldiers who shared his tent. If he wasn't awake before he came out, he certainly was now.
The sight that greeted his eyes was devastating. Everywhere there was fire, on all the tents, even it seemed, on the ground and spreading fast. Aside from that, there was mass chaos, people were running everywhere, and some fully dressed in their battle armor, some still in whatever they had happened to wear to bed. There was tons of noise to go with it all, the fire, the screams, and what sounded like steel on steel.
Jerrard grabbed the arm of the nearest person running by, the person, of whom Jerrard recognized as a new recruit by the name of Jake. "What's happening?" Jerrard screamed over all the noise, Jake looked to terrified to have even heard him. Jerrard grabbed him firmly by his shoulders and shook him, and then he repeated his question.
"W.Were under attack." Jake stuttered in a voice barely audible even from the foot and a half distance that they were apart.
"By who, who are we under attack from?" Jerrard demanding, shaking him as he asked the question to try to get him to focus. When it became apparent that he had gotten everything from Jake that he would, Jerrard roughly shoved him aside, heading in the direction he judged the most noise was coming from.
As he started running from his tent towards the noise, he drew his sword, wondering all the time just what the heck was happening. Nothing could have prepared him for the sight that greeted his eyes as he rounded the corner of a food tent.
There was what appeared to be thousands upon thousands of people in snow white armor rampaging through everything, killing anyone and anything that got in their way. There was only one army that wore armor like that. Elves.
What were they doing here? They wasn't supposed to be any elves within one hundred and fifty miles of their position. It would have taken them days and days if not weeks to move an army the size he was seeing before him that distance. And even on the off chance they did move this far that fast, the scouts should have spooted, and reported them hours ago.
This is exactly what he feared would happen. On late Friday night, they had received very odd orders from the President of War. They had been told to split their near to invincible army in to three groups, and station them thirty five miles apart, covering a broad area of land. No one understood these orders, but then again, know one wanted to be the first to question the President's direct orders.
Now they were to die? Because they had been told to split up to cover a broader area? This was not looking good. But even taking into consideration the fact that they had split up, the elves still shouldn't have known exactly were they would be.
Jerrard spared only a second or two for these thoughts before he started charging at the elves. This was not even a proper fight, this was a massacre. Jerrard came down upon some elves that had their backs turned to him, he didn't break stride as he loped off the first elves head and turned to attack the others.
He managed to also catch the second one by surprise, driving his sword into the elves' chest and making crimson blood flow over the spotless white armor that he wore. By the time he got his sword free from the second elves chest, the third one had had plenty of time to react, and he easily blocked Jerrard's attack.
He was in a ferocious battle with the third elf when all of a sudden, a arrow was sticking out of his chest, closely followed by a second and third. He watched in stun silence as blood dripped over his bare chest on to the red pants that was part of the complete red uniform all soldiers of Asgaroth wore. (Asgaroth was the country in which Tiradel resided, also the home of the biggest human population.)
As he collapsed to his knees, he looked up into the laughing and jeering faces of elves starring down at him. As he realized he was about to die, the thought once again occurred to him, How could they have known. how did they know it was their perfect chance. to. perfect. and with that last conscious thought, Jerrard collapsed onto the ground, dead before he hit the cold Earth.
open to ideas, write a review here, or email me at caots_@hotmail.com
Betrayal and War
10:00 P.M. Fri. July 6th
"Don't worry, for the hundredth time I'm just going out to check on the horses."
"I know, I know, but I worry about you Drac, I don't know what I would do if anything ever happened to you. Drac leaned over and kissed his wife on the forehead to reassure her before he headed out the door.
He sighed to himself as he left the warmth and light of his house, for the cold and empty darkness that was a winter night. He didn't really want to check on the horses, he had other plans to attend to. Drac made it about twenty feet from the house before he nearly ran into a tall figure standing just in front of him.
"Gees! Don't scare me like that!" Drac exclaimed, trying but not succeeding to calm his now fast beating heart. As he carefully looked about in the darkness, he was just able to make out two figures standing off to the side of the one in front of him. He knew there was more; he just couldn't see them right now.
"Do you have it?" The voice from right in front of him inquired.
"Y. Yes, but I." stammered Drac taking in for the first time the muscles and gleaming weapons that seemed to equally cover the six foot or so figure in front of him.
"Do you have it?" The voice repeated again, this time asserting more authority in the question.
"Yes here take it; everything is as you wanted it." Drac reached inside his coat, and pulled out a folded piece of paper which he handed to the person. When the figure had what it wanted, all three seemed to suddenly disappear.
"Man, they creep me out." Drac sighed to himself, he didn't like what he just did, but he didn't have a choice really, did he? Drac reassure himself that it was his job, as a father of two girls, and husband to a loving wife, to protect his family at all costs, even if meant handing over vital army positions to the elves.
That was, in fact, exactly what he had just done, he as the President of War, (Pretty much the actual President in all but name.) knew exactly were any and all human troops were, since he himself had ordered them there. He knew he had just doomed over a thousand men at the very least to die, but they didn't give him a choice. It was either move the troops as he had been ordered, or the blasted elves would kill his family!
A week ago Drac would have scoffed at any threat made against his family. For one, his family house, or rather, mansion was located in the very center of the booming capital of all the humans, Tiradel. And since Tiradel is the capital, there are always hundred of soldiers patrolling the city streets, and even more patrolling the outskirts to protect against any unwanted invaders. Not to mention the bodyguards that were everywhere in his house. Now, He didn't trust any of this to help him.
Eight days ago, Drac had received a letter threatening to kill his parents if they did not comply with what the sender wanted. He didn't take this seriously, and not doing as he was ordered had cost him. Two days later, his parents, (Of whom Drac had very generously given a room in his mansion in their old age.) were found dead in their room, stabbed while they slept. Later that day, another note arrived demanding the same thing except this time threatening his family.
The part that scared him the most, was not the note, but more along the lines of the killing, along with the fact that there was no evidence of how the elves got in or out of his house, For this reason alone, he decided it was wise not to take the elves in a joking way.
As he walked back into his house, he quickly silenced his wife, telling her to be quite so the kids wouldn't wake up, even though there was no chance of that happening. He just wanted it quite. He strolled into his kitchen, took out his finest wine, and poured himself an over flowing glass which he downed in two swallow. What had he just done? As this question dawned on him, and he realized just how many humans he had sentenced to death, he quickly poured himself another glass, closely followed by a third and fourth until he slumped to the floor, all but passed out.
5:03 A.M. Sun. July 8th
A scream erupted through camp making Jerrard stir in his drunken slumber. At first he merely associated the scream with his dream, that was, until he saw bright flickering lights shinning through the tent.
"What the Heck?" He wondered to himself, as he quickly got up, through on some pants, grabbed his sword, and headed out the tent flap, followed by the three other soldiers who shared his tent. If he wasn't awake before he came out, he certainly was now.
The sight that greeted his eyes was devastating. Everywhere there was fire, on all the tents, even it seemed, on the ground and spreading fast. Aside from that, there was mass chaos, people were running everywhere, and some fully dressed in their battle armor, some still in whatever they had happened to wear to bed. There was tons of noise to go with it all, the fire, the screams, and what sounded like steel on steel.
Jerrard grabbed the arm of the nearest person running by, the person, of whom Jerrard recognized as a new recruit by the name of Jake. "What's happening?" Jerrard screamed over all the noise, Jake looked to terrified to have even heard him. Jerrard grabbed him firmly by his shoulders and shook him, and then he repeated his question.
"W.Were under attack." Jake stuttered in a voice barely audible even from the foot and a half distance that they were apart.
"By who, who are we under attack from?" Jerrard demanding, shaking him as he asked the question to try to get him to focus. When it became apparent that he had gotten everything from Jake that he would, Jerrard roughly shoved him aside, heading in the direction he judged the most noise was coming from.
As he started running from his tent towards the noise, he drew his sword, wondering all the time just what the heck was happening. Nothing could have prepared him for the sight that greeted his eyes as he rounded the corner of a food tent.
There was what appeared to be thousands upon thousands of people in snow white armor rampaging through everything, killing anyone and anything that got in their way. There was only one army that wore armor like that. Elves.
What were they doing here? They wasn't supposed to be any elves within one hundred and fifty miles of their position. It would have taken them days and days if not weeks to move an army the size he was seeing before him that distance. And even on the off chance they did move this far that fast, the scouts should have spooted, and reported them hours ago.
This is exactly what he feared would happen. On late Friday night, they had received very odd orders from the President of War. They had been told to split their near to invincible army in to three groups, and station them thirty five miles apart, covering a broad area of land. No one understood these orders, but then again, know one wanted to be the first to question the President's direct orders.
Now they were to die? Because they had been told to split up to cover a broader area? This was not looking good. But even taking into consideration the fact that they had split up, the elves still shouldn't have known exactly were they would be.
Jerrard spared only a second or two for these thoughts before he started charging at the elves. This was not even a proper fight, this was a massacre. Jerrard came down upon some elves that had their backs turned to him, he didn't break stride as he loped off the first elves head and turned to attack the others.
He managed to also catch the second one by surprise, driving his sword into the elves' chest and making crimson blood flow over the spotless white armor that he wore. By the time he got his sword free from the second elves chest, the third one had had plenty of time to react, and he easily blocked Jerrard's attack.
He was in a ferocious battle with the third elf when all of a sudden, a arrow was sticking out of his chest, closely followed by a second and third. He watched in stun silence as blood dripped over his bare chest on to the red pants that was part of the complete red uniform all soldiers of Asgaroth wore. (Asgaroth was the country in which Tiradel resided, also the home of the biggest human population.)
As he collapsed to his knees, he looked up into the laughing and jeering faces of elves starring down at him. As he realized he was about to die, the thought once again occurred to him, How could they have known. how did they know it was their perfect chance. to. perfect. and with that last conscious thought, Jerrard collapsed onto the ground, dead before he hit the cold Earth.