The Legend of Sezarra
Chapter 1:
The Grudge
Sezarra Ju'end rode toward the nearby fort; the moss covered stonewall had not seen battle for many years, possibly decades. The fort held about seven hundred people, including guards, men, women and children. The citadel loomed over from behind the gate with vines running up the walls. The guards were partially asleep, but abruptly became alert when it was found there were two travelers on the dirt road. And the guards became even more alert when it was found the thy were not only travelers, but they were shadow elves. Shadow elves were famed for their honor, but also known for the chaos that they cause for "fun."
Sezarra's spiked black plate armor clinked with every step of his black horse 'Starlight.' His black cloak fell around the horse's hind and over the back of the saddle and his mettalic red colored eyes gazed around. He had his katana 'Angelblade' strapped horizontally across his lower back and ready to draw at any threat. It was adorned with gold and glowed a soft silver light. Its blade's keen edge was sharp enough to cut other blades unscathed. The katana was so cherished Sezarra hadn't ever pulled on its' full power in battle, because he believed this would show cowardice. He also had a gauntlet on his right arm with long claws on it… in fact; it was now his arm. His long white hair hung down to his shoulders and fluttered in the breeze. His elven ears listened cautiously for any sound. Though Sezarra was fair, even for an elf, he was much more sinister than his initial appearance showed. He cared for his people, but he was commonly causing Shadow Elven "fun," like most of his kind.
Riding alongside Sezarra was his journeyman Zadachi S'thin. Zadachi was slightly shorter than Sezarra's 5'6" height standing about 5'4". Zadachi had long black hair that matched the style of his master, and pale skin fair in the dim sunlight. He wore black half-plate that was similar to the style of Sezarra's and his black cloak tied securely around his neck. Zadachi had a katana of power he found in a realm of fire. After having a little trouble with a few Chameleons he won it over. He named it 'Hellfire' and he could control its multi-colored flame at will. He was capable of causing flaming destruction on the field of battle. He looked over the fort and around at the guards on the wall and tightened his lips.
Sezarra rode up to the gates of Nishari with Zadachi. The group of fifteen to twenty guards held their bows at the ready. Sezarra's clan of elves were not easily trusted. Many of the shadow elves had become rogues, or pirates. They were commonly stereotyped for being evil (which was often true.)
"Hail, travelers, state your name and business here!" yelled the guard far above. He raised his bow and aimed at them both. The arrow's tip pointed for Sezarra's head. The others watched their older commander and waited patiently for orders.
"We are Sezarra and Zadachi and are here to speak with General Strik. We have been traveling far and wide to seek audience with him." Sezarra answered. He looked upwards to the unfaltering eyes of the human above him. Only one of the sinister red eyes stared out underneath the ebony hood he wore. The stare was one that could freeze even the hardest warriors in their tracks. The guards seeing this look flinched overtly.
The commander hesitated, unsure of what to do next. He then sighed and replied, "When you enter, do not draw upon your weapons or any magic, or you shall be considered hostile to us." He then signaled for the gatehouse to open the gates.
Starlight's hooves crunched under the crisp earth denied of water for so long. Zadachi's horse followed close behind. He then put up the hood of his cloak to shade the sun light beginning to pierce the clouds. The dark elves lived in a very dark and dull area, usually in caves, or in the mountains. Light was uncommon and their eyes were sensitive to light.
The people of the town glanced up from their work to observe the strangers so different from all other aspects of the town. The people were packing supplies for a battle and readying weapons for a cause currently unknown to Sezarra. There was even an engineer burning oil in a large cauldron. Sezarra gave a confused look to Zadachi, who only shrugged slightly. Obviously there was a battle nearby, but all seemed so calm. Perhaps they had been warned by scouts to stay alert? This was something Sezarra had to find out when he spoke with General Strik. Part of him wanted to see this small fortress massacred, but another part of him whispered control in the back of his mind. Some guards at the gate were paid well to care for their horses. They were to be in the stables next to the inn upon their return.
Black cloaks flowed behind them as they marched to the town hall to speak with General Strik. The guards stood easily and rested on their pikes until the elves walked up to them. They then snapped to attention and asked the business of the shady elf in front of them who answered in a low, soft, whisper, "We are here on an important and secret assignment and seek the audience of the General in charge."
"What authority do you have?" The guard uneasily said. He did not know whether to trust the shadow elves or not. Not many did (the shadow elves didn't even really trust themselves.)
Sezarra's eyes flashed with anger but the whisper in his mind calmed him again, leaving only the scowl on his face. Sezarra then pulled the sleeve over his left arm back swiftly and peeled back his spiked gauntlet to show the scar of the Vice-Druchii of the Dark Elves under Sythraa the Relentless. The guard's eyes widened with shock and his blood ran from his face leaving him pale. Sezarra instantly smirked.
The other guard obviously didn't understand. He turned to his ally and saw him shaking slightly with fear. "If you have such power to frighten Dan, then you have enough authority for me to let you pass, your Lordship." He then turned around and cared for Dan, who apparently was still shocked.
"Very well." And Sezarra pushed past the stuttering guard. He then pushed open the large wooden doors with both hands, making them echo their bang off the walls around the central chamber. He then took powerful strides past the next few guards, who were similarly uneasy and slightly frightened at his entry, into the room of General Strik. Similarly slamming the door open the General instantly jumped in his chair, which was turned the other way.
Sezarra lowered his hood and slightly smirked at the back of the chair in front of him that was holding Strik who was staring down at a map. "Strik, we have something to discuss." A scowl formed on Sezarra's face as the stricken General Strik turned around in his chair.
Sezarra looked deeply into the eyes of the General and the General's eyes looked back. Strik's stare was one of practice and one that had seen much death, but even those eyes couldn't hide the fear that he was showing now. He had been caught and he knew it. He had openly betrayed the elves' trust and this wasn't something to take lightly, as elves often hold grudges for many years.
"I…I uh…I didn't know you were coming Vice-Druchii. I…I would have warned my guards. " He stuttered his voice shaking slightly.
"You know the elves, especially my kin," Sezarra spoke threateningly slamming his left fist down on the desk in front of him and pointing to him with the wickedly sharp claw of his right hand guantlet, "do not take lightly to cowards and betrayers. You left us on the battlefield and removed your army, knowing full well that my men put their lives on the line! We…" he points to himself and Zadachi, "are the only ones left alive! Your cowardice is to blame. Those orcs are now ravaging our city and looting our goods. We had to flee the ruins that you caused!"
Strik recoiled and was fearful of Sezarra's next action. "You…You…I never…you were…" he had no words to get out, he knew that the massacre at Garador Castle was his fault… He was rapidly trying to find an escape from his persecution. There were thousands and thousands of orcs that attacked the well-defended stronghold. Garador castle was a huge stone castle with a massive (now dead) populace. The orcs had defeated the castle with sheer numbers and a few war machines.
Suddenly the castle shook and cracks formed in the wall showering dust on the people below. The castle walls creaked and cracked threatening to fall on them. The General stood up and looked around calling out to one of his guards.
But before he left for reinforcements, another guard burst in looking terrorized. His eyes were wide and he was shaking uncontrollably. "They…they're here, sir…the...re…thousands…orcs...!"