Phantoms of the Forest
The night sky was speckled with thousands of stars and the half moon shone brighter than that of any full moon in recent memory. The light cascaded down in slivers through the mighty pines of the forest. Karo, the last knight alive after the tauren ambush, slowly opened his eyes and took in his surroundings. The tall, dark pines stood silently, as if not even part of the forest, but guards of something deep within. They were to say the least, menacing. Around him he could barely make out the lines of elves that calmly moved through the forest. Even though the moonlight illuminated everything else, these elves seemed to be difficult to focus on. His eyes wandered for a while taking in sights of unknown forest eyes watching this parade of elves. He attempted to lift his head up, but he couldn't generate the energy to do so. Now he realized he was on some kind of stretcher or cot, being carried through the trees by four quiet elves. They walked gently onward, gracefully carrying the battered knight, without the hint of bumps or dips. He marveled at how these warriors moved so sleekly and silently, not even averting their focus to their newly conscious guest, or captive. Their smooth faces seemed to peer out of the snow colored hoods from their cloaks, like a child peering around the corner at its parents when its not sure if it's in trouble. And then he made the mistake, Karo glanced down at his arm and instantly felt the pain. It jolted through like a thousand miniature bolts of lightning. Blood smothered his arm, covering it in a thick and half-dried gooey mess. His arm felt shattered like a porcelain plate that had been dropped from the highest mountain. He clenched his teeth, grinding them against each other. A heavy smell of some kind of ointment filled the air, slick paste that was layered all over his exposed wounds. They hadn't even bothered to wrap his arm up. Through the forest they continued, and Karo began to play back the events of why he was here.
He had barely survived the training to become a knight, taking the last spot they would be giving for weeks to come. He kept quiet for the most part, sticking to himself whenever there were breaks. This is how it had been all the way into his first battle. He would quickly learn how difficult and lonely combat would be when you were left to fend for yourself. He had isolated himself from his fellow warriors over the months and he had forfeited the fabled tight-knit comradery of his nation's knights. They left him to survive on his own, while they rushed to each others aids during the clashes with orcs that were growing common. Because of this, Karo's fighting skills had greatly accelerated, but his loneliness grew deeper as well. Why could he not muster the courage to befriend these people? Why did he crave their friendship anyway? Raised by his aunt, a crazy witch in the middle of the woods, he had spent all of his time away from others his age, of any age actually. He should be used to being by himself, but why did his heart yearn for companionship? It was too late now though. He had rejected the others first offers of friendship and they had felt spurned. They no longer cared if he lived or if he died, he was just an extra man on a horse with a lance to them now. He needed to do something big, something major to get a second try at this, and then his chance came.
On a routine patrol on the border of the Swamp of Galath, his company came on the camp of a self-crafted coalition of thieves. Theft was not allowed anywhere in the kingdom or in all of the land for that matter, and whether it was war or peace, these vile creatures, man or beast, would not be tolerated. The knights quieted their steeds and silently surveyed the scene. They discovered three injured tauren warriors among them. There had been a report of an elven-tauren battle just two days before, occurring about thirty miles from this very swamp. Like a chain reaction of lights being flipped on, the knights concluded that these taurens had been leftovers from that clash, and the hushed nods of agreement on every knight confirmed their thoughts. The knights surrounded the camp, the first beams of light climbing over the horizon and shining through the chilled, stench filled air that was common of most swamps. Some stayed on their horses, lance at the ready, while others hopped down on foot, drawing swords to the throats of their sleeping enemies. Karo had slid off of his horse as well, the cold steely blade of his sword inches away from a troll's throat. Slowly he inched the sharp point of the weapon toward the throat until the blade touched skin. It was then that another beam of the rising sun struck the eyes of the troll. His eyes popped open quickly and a shriek fell out of his mouth. Karo's sword swiftly sunk deep into his neck, gurgling the troll's screams. Knights all at once thrust swords cleanly into the throats of their victims, and those on horse readied their lances just in case. Tauren, troll, and poacher alike were slain in mere seconds. Thin grins spread along the faces of the knights and sparkles filled their eyes.
"That went rather smoothly." One spoke out.
"Me thinks it was a close one though." Another replied.
"Just my type of morning." A third chimed in, "This will wake you up faster than a cup of Tamlik Brew."
The knights all began laughing. It was then that one of them spotted two others far in the distance, one tauren and one gigantic two-headed ogre. It stood to reason that the two were coming back to camp from some kind of early morning or late night activity. The tauren and ogre seemed to take notice of the group of knights at the very same time. The tauren would have no chance, but the ogre's two heads agreed that it was best to run now. It took off at full speed as the tauren stood its ground. Lance at the ready, the group of knights charged in unison. It was the oldest of the knights who took the lead, Larason, with an armor of bloodstains and rust he was proud to wear.
"I have him!" He bellowed at the top of his lungs.
Larason screamed wildly as he charged the giant. The rest of the group had slowed to a gallop as they let him have his shot. No one thought it was possible for the tauren to do this, but somehow he used an unprecedented speed and agility his race had never displayed. As Larason approached with his lance poised to strike, the tauren simply somersaulted to the side, taking his long, broad sword and sweeping it through the legs of the horse. The sharp crackle of snapping bones was heard as the horse dropped, bringing its armor clanging rider with it. Larason quickly scrambled to his feet just in time to see the tauren's sword slice into the neck of his dark, maple colored horse. The old pro remained calm as a wild smile of yellowed teeth spread on the massive tauren's face. Karo and the others watched intently, slowly edging their horses forward.
"Stay out of this, I can handle it."
Even as Larason spoke, the mighty tauren raised his sword and brought it down with full force. Clang! Even with Larason's muscular arms steadying his sword in defense, he could not keep from shaking from the force, and stumbling to the side.
"This is madness. That tauren will crush him." One knight mumbled with gritted teeth.
"Even so," Replied another "you will not dishonor Larason by jumping in. He has chosen to fight alone."
Karo ignored the conversation of his fellow knights, and watched the collision of knight and tauren closely. The tauren seemed to grin even wider as he came once again, this time with his sword from the side. Another great clang was heard as metal crushed into metal, knocking Larason to the ground and sending his sword flying feet away from him and skidding across the mush of ground. Larason pushed himself up to his hands and knees just as the tauren stopped beside him with his mighty sword raised above his head. With a malicious smirk and a dark chuckle the tauren gripped the sword tighter, Larason looking up helplessly.
"This is where your time ends." The tauren bellowed.
It was then when the turning point came, Karo thought. It was then when his life turned down the path to make him an elven hostage with a shattered arm. That's the moment that Karo charged forward on his steed heading straight for the brute. That's when the tauren leapt backward to avoid the blow, but couldn't. Karo just adjusted his lance and horse rapidly enough, sending the lance through flesh, blood, and bone, plunging its sharpened tip deep into the tauren's side. The lance had snapped, half in Karo's hand and half in the side of the screaming tauren. Karo wheeled his horse around to face the giant, staring him down as he drew his sword. The tauren staggered somewhat, trying to yank the lance out of his flesh. Dark blood oozed all over his hands and the lance as he frantically pulled. Karo charged again, the tauren staring his mount in the eyes, and then it was over. Blood spurted out of his neck like a geyser going off. His head lay a few feet from his fallen body, with that same menacing stare frozen on his face. Karo halted his horse as he tried to catch his breath from the sheer adrenaline rush. Off in the distance stood the ogre, who had stopped to watch the tauren's last fight. For a moment, the ogre's four eyes locked onto Karo's. Then the ogre turned and fled. Karo would not take pursuit. Ogres were incredibly fast despite their size, and even if he caught him, it wouldn't be the best of positions to be in, fighting an ogre of that size one on one. Karo grinned however, he had just saved Larason's life and he was sure to get the hero's treatment. He turned to face his comrades, undoubtedly he had just earned their respect. But as he stared over at his fellow mounted warriors he saw nothing but angry faces all around. And in between him and them, lay the hunched over form of Larason, who had fallen on his own sword. Karo looked in horror and began to speak, but was promptly cut off.
"You fool! Look what you've done! You dishonored Larason so he took his own life." One knight exclaimed.
"But he would have died!" Karo protested.
"Better to die by the sword of the enemy than by your own! Have you no honor?" Another one added.
Karo just stared ahead numbly, unblinking and stone faced. A sly breeze blew in his face.
"They'll go around saving each other in battles, but when someone is about to be executed in a one on one fight they just watch? How absurd!" Karo thought.
And that was how he was in this mess now. The ogre was definitely the culprit who had notified the taurens who ambushed them. Karo wasn't even sure if they had even known about the priestess. Ahh, the priestess. She was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. She was smaller and more petite than most human women. Her long golden hair fell in waves, her cute pointed ears just barely sticking out through her hair. Her fair skin had not a blemish to be seen by the eye, and her eyes were like two of the deepest emeralds you could ever wish to see. They seemed to pierce right into his soul every one of the few times he was lucky enough to find her looking his way. Even her breasts were perfect to him. She had about her a certain class too, which he had never seen and it intrigued him greatly. Ahh, yes, he had never seen an elf nor human that caught his eye like the priestess did. At least they called her a priestess, for she had learned all the magics of the normal human priestess, but she seemed so different. The poor priestess, slain face-first in the forest mud for all he knew.
"The priestess." He kept muttering in his head over and over.
It was as if she was appearing right in front of him, lying next to him. He could just imagine her. Yes, the priestess…the priestess! He could hardly believe his eyes, she was right in front of him! About twenty feet away was another small group of elves with one of these stretchers, and yes the priestess was on it! But as Karo peered through the moonlit dark, scanning her face, a tear soon welled up in his eye. She was so lifeless, so pale. Long cuts ran across her face and her body lay so limp, like a bag of grain slung onto a table. He stared at her for a long while, wishing so badly that she would just open her eyes and say she was okay, but she never moved, never flinched, it just wasn't going to happen. Karo looked around again, just barely able to lift his head. The amazement was still there as he wondered how the elves moved so gracefully and quick. He stared around him at the dim figures of the elves, clothed in white cloaks. It was as if an army of ghosts were gliding throughout the forest in the bright luminescence of the moon. Owls hooted once in a while, a creature stirred here and there, and the calming sound of a nearby brook was in the background. Time passed by as Karo drifted in and out of sleep, waking usually because of the pain from his arm. At one point he awoke, gazing down at his arm again. He quickly averted his eyes, glancing up and feeling a soft glow around him. All about him he saw lights, torches, lighted paths, and great monstrous trees, seemingly never ending as they expanded to the heavens. A great number of other buildings seemingly made out of the trees, were rooted all around him, lights aglow as thought the creatures in this place never slept. This was it, their destination, the great elven city of Dur Mahid.
The night sky was speckled with thousands of stars and the half moon shone brighter than that of any full moon in recent memory. The light cascaded down in slivers through the mighty pines of the forest. Karo, the last knight alive after the tauren ambush, slowly opened his eyes and took in his surroundings. The tall, dark pines stood silently, as if not even part of the forest, but guards of something deep within. They were to say the least, menacing. Around him he could barely make out the lines of elves that calmly moved through the forest. Even though the moonlight illuminated everything else, these elves seemed to be difficult to focus on. His eyes wandered for a while taking in sights of unknown forest eyes watching this parade of elves. He attempted to lift his head up, but he couldn't generate the energy to do so. Now he realized he was on some kind of stretcher or cot, being carried through the trees by four quiet elves. They walked gently onward, gracefully carrying the battered knight, without the hint of bumps or dips. He marveled at how these warriors moved so sleekly and silently, not even averting their focus to their newly conscious guest, or captive. Their smooth faces seemed to peer out of the snow colored hoods from their cloaks, like a child peering around the corner at its parents when its not sure if it's in trouble. And then he made the mistake, Karo glanced down at his arm and instantly felt the pain. It jolted through like a thousand miniature bolts of lightning. Blood smothered his arm, covering it in a thick and half-dried gooey mess. His arm felt shattered like a porcelain plate that had been dropped from the highest mountain. He clenched his teeth, grinding them against each other. A heavy smell of some kind of ointment filled the air, slick paste that was layered all over his exposed wounds. They hadn't even bothered to wrap his arm up. Through the forest they continued, and Karo began to play back the events of why he was here.
He had barely survived the training to become a knight, taking the last spot they would be giving for weeks to come. He kept quiet for the most part, sticking to himself whenever there were breaks. This is how it had been all the way into his first battle. He would quickly learn how difficult and lonely combat would be when you were left to fend for yourself. He had isolated himself from his fellow warriors over the months and he had forfeited the fabled tight-knit comradery of his nation's knights. They left him to survive on his own, while they rushed to each others aids during the clashes with orcs that were growing common. Because of this, Karo's fighting skills had greatly accelerated, but his loneliness grew deeper as well. Why could he not muster the courage to befriend these people? Why did he crave their friendship anyway? Raised by his aunt, a crazy witch in the middle of the woods, he had spent all of his time away from others his age, of any age actually. He should be used to being by himself, but why did his heart yearn for companionship? It was too late now though. He had rejected the others first offers of friendship and they had felt spurned. They no longer cared if he lived or if he died, he was just an extra man on a horse with a lance to them now. He needed to do something big, something major to get a second try at this, and then his chance came.
On a routine patrol on the border of the Swamp of Galath, his company came on the camp of a self-crafted coalition of thieves. Theft was not allowed anywhere in the kingdom or in all of the land for that matter, and whether it was war or peace, these vile creatures, man or beast, would not be tolerated. The knights quieted their steeds and silently surveyed the scene. They discovered three injured tauren warriors among them. There had been a report of an elven-tauren battle just two days before, occurring about thirty miles from this very swamp. Like a chain reaction of lights being flipped on, the knights concluded that these taurens had been leftovers from that clash, and the hushed nods of agreement on every knight confirmed their thoughts. The knights surrounded the camp, the first beams of light climbing over the horizon and shining through the chilled, stench filled air that was common of most swamps. Some stayed on their horses, lance at the ready, while others hopped down on foot, drawing swords to the throats of their sleeping enemies. Karo had slid off of his horse as well, the cold steely blade of his sword inches away from a troll's throat. Slowly he inched the sharp point of the weapon toward the throat until the blade touched skin. It was then that another beam of the rising sun struck the eyes of the troll. His eyes popped open quickly and a shriek fell out of his mouth. Karo's sword swiftly sunk deep into his neck, gurgling the troll's screams. Knights all at once thrust swords cleanly into the throats of their victims, and those on horse readied their lances just in case. Tauren, troll, and poacher alike were slain in mere seconds. Thin grins spread along the faces of the knights and sparkles filled their eyes.
"That went rather smoothly." One spoke out.
"Me thinks it was a close one though." Another replied.
"Just my type of morning." A third chimed in, "This will wake you up faster than a cup of Tamlik Brew."
The knights all began laughing. It was then that one of them spotted two others far in the distance, one tauren and one gigantic two-headed ogre. It stood to reason that the two were coming back to camp from some kind of early morning or late night activity. The tauren and ogre seemed to take notice of the group of knights at the very same time. The tauren would have no chance, but the ogre's two heads agreed that it was best to run now. It took off at full speed as the tauren stood its ground. Lance at the ready, the group of knights charged in unison. It was the oldest of the knights who took the lead, Larason, with an armor of bloodstains and rust he was proud to wear.
"I have him!" He bellowed at the top of his lungs.
Larason screamed wildly as he charged the giant. The rest of the group had slowed to a gallop as they let him have his shot. No one thought it was possible for the tauren to do this, but somehow he used an unprecedented speed and agility his race had never displayed. As Larason approached with his lance poised to strike, the tauren simply somersaulted to the side, taking his long, broad sword and sweeping it through the legs of the horse. The sharp crackle of snapping bones was heard as the horse dropped, bringing its armor clanging rider with it. Larason quickly scrambled to his feet just in time to see the tauren's sword slice into the neck of his dark, maple colored horse. The old pro remained calm as a wild smile of yellowed teeth spread on the massive tauren's face. Karo and the others watched intently, slowly edging their horses forward.
"Stay out of this, I can handle it."
Even as Larason spoke, the mighty tauren raised his sword and brought it down with full force. Clang! Even with Larason's muscular arms steadying his sword in defense, he could not keep from shaking from the force, and stumbling to the side.
"This is madness. That tauren will crush him." One knight mumbled with gritted teeth.
"Even so," Replied another "you will not dishonor Larason by jumping in. He has chosen to fight alone."
Karo ignored the conversation of his fellow knights, and watched the collision of knight and tauren closely. The tauren seemed to grin even wider as he came once again, this time with his sword from the side. Another great clang was heard as metal crushed into metal, knocking Larason to the ground and sending his sword flying feet away from him and skidding across the mush of ground. Larason pushed himself up to his hands and knees just as the tauren stopped beside him with his mighty sword raised above his head. With a malicious smirk and a dark chuckle the tauren gripped the sword tighter, Larason looking up helplessly.
"This is where your time ends." The tauren bellowed.
It was then when the turning point came, Karo thought. It was then when his life turned down the path to make him an elven hostage with a shattered arm. That's the moment that Karo charged forward on his steed heading straight for the brute. That's when the tauren leapt backward to avoid the blow, but couldn't. Karo just adjusted his lance and horse rapidly enough, sending the lance through flesh, blood, and bone, plunging its sharpened tip deep into the tauren's side. The lance had snapped, half in Karo's hand and half in the side of the screaming tauren. Karo wheeled his horse around to face the giant, staring him down as he drew his sword. The tauren staggered somewhat, trying to yank the lance out of his flesh. Dark blood oozed all over his hands and the lance as he frantically pulled. Karo charged again, the tauren staring his mount in the eyes, and then it was over. Blood spurted out of his neck like a geyser going off. His head lay a few feet from his fallen body, with that same menacing stare frozen on his face. Karo halted his horse as he tried to catch his breath from the sheer adrenaline rush. Off in the distance stood the ogre, who had stopped to watch the tauren's last fight. For a moment, the ogre's four eyes locked onto Karo's. Then the ogre turned and fled. Karo would not take pursuit. Ogres were incredibly fast despite their size, and even if he caught him, it wouldn't be the best of positions to be in, fighting an ogre of that size one on one. Karo grinned however, he had just saved Larason's life and he was sure to get the hero's treatment. He turned to face his comrades, undoubtedly he had just earned their respect. But as he stared over at his fellow mounted warriors he saw nothing but angry faces all around. And in between him and them, lay the hunched over form of Larason, who had fallen on his own sword. Karo looked in horror and began to speak, but was promptly cut off.
"You fool! Look what you've done! You dishonored Larason so he took his own life." One knight exclaimed.
"But he would have died!" Karo protested.
"Better to die by the sword of the enemy than by your own! Have you no honor?" Another one added.
Karo just stared ahead numbly, unblinking and stone faced. A sly breeze blew in his face.
"They'll go around saving each other in battles, but when someone is about to be executed in a one on one fight they just watch? How absurd!" Karo thought.
And that was how he was in this mess now. The ogre was definitely the culprit who had notified the taurens who ambushed them. Karo wasn't even sure if they had even known about the priestess. Ahh, the priestess. She was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. She was smaller and more petite than most human women. Her long golden hair fell in waves, her cute pointed ears just barely sticking out through her hair. Her fair skin had not a blemish to be seen by the eye, and her eyes were like two of the deepest emeralds you could ever wish to see. They seemed to pierce right into his soul every one of the few times he was lucky enough to find her looking his way. Even her breasts were perfect to him. She had about her a certain class too, which he had never seen and it intrigued him greatly. Ahh, yes, he had never seen an elf nor human that caught his eye like the priestess did. At least they called her a priestess, for she had learned all the magics of the normal human priestess, but she seemed so different. The poor priestess, slain face-first in the forest mud for all he knew.
"The priestess." He kept muttering in his head over and over.
It was as if she was appearing right in front of him, lying next to him. He could just imagine her. Yes, the priestess…the priestess! He could hardly believe his eyes, she was right in front of him! About twenty feet away was another small group of elves with one of these stretchers, and yes the priestess was on it! But as Karo peered through the moonlit dark, scanning her face, a tear soon welled up in his eye. She was so lifeless, so pale. Long cuts ran across her face and her body lay so limp, like a bag of grain slung onto a table. He stared at her for a long while, wishing so badly that she would just open her eyes and say she was okay, but she never moved, never flinched, it just wasn't going to happen. Karo looked around again, just barely able to lift his head. The amazement was still there as he wondered how the elves moved so gracefully and quick. He stared around him at the dim figures of the elves, clothed in white cloaks. It was as if an army of ghosts were gliding throughout the forest in the bright luminescence of the moon. Owls hooted once in a while, a creature stirred here and there, and the calming sound of a nearby brook was in the background. Time passed by as Karo drifted in and out of sleep, waking usually because of the pain from his arm. At one point he awoke, gazing down at his arm again. He quickly averted his eyes, glancing up and feeling a soft glow around him. All about him he saw lights, torches, lighted paths, and great monstrous trees, seemingly never ending as they expanded to the heavens. A great number of other buildings seemingly made out of the trees, were rooted all around him, lights aglow as thought the creatures in this place never slept. This was it, their destination, the great elven city of Dur Mahid.
