OrcSlayer, Chapter 1. Semi-complete.

Book 1
The Gathering


ZERO
On the Hunt: Elvex

The tall Elven form crouched by the edge of the watering hole, concealed in a bush. A deer cantered into the clearing and began to drink the unholy water.
Elvex slowly sat down, removed the sword, shield, food pouch and waterskin from his back and waist and laid them and himself on the ground thoughtfully. He began thinking about the long day he had just lived through. He and his Half-Elf cousin, Tarcus, had to capture at least 4 deer and bring them back to their grandfather, Aloom’s, hunting and weapons store.
The old man had run out of venison when a stranger to the village had slouched into the store and ordered all the venison they had in the store. Elvex and Tarcus had warned Aloom not to sell it to him, as they had a terrible feeling when they looked at him, but their greedy grandfather sold him the meat for several golden furews without question. The stranger had glanced behind the counter and stared at Elvex with interest. He suddenly had an urge to leap over the counter and slay the beast, but restrained his anger. Tarcus, however, didn’t withhold his madness. He roared and jumped over the counter, drawing his feet up in a kick. The stranger caught his feet with uncanny speed and flung him back over the counter, saying, “Grow faster if you wish to fight me, Half-Elf.” Elvex glared at the stranger, then ran to his fallen brother. Aloom, who had been retrieving a section of the meat after ogling at the amount of money he had haggled from the stranger, realized that Tarcus had been yelling “That Damon broke my ribs! 3 on my left side!” and came running. He bent over Tarcus as Elvex turned to the stranger with apprehension in his eye. The stranger bid him farewell, adding, “We’ll meet again soon, Foresight of the Apocalypse.” Elvex was left to puzzle the meaning of this statement as Aloom carried Tarcus into the back. Later, he shared the saying with his cousin and grandfather. Tarcus stared blankly at him, but Aloom gasped “He’s talking about the prophecy your mother had before she gave birth to you! I should’ve listened to you two while I could...” Tarcus and Elvex instantly wanted to know what the prophecy was, and Aloom began the story:
“A few hours before she gave birth to Elvex, Ebe began to writhe and shriek. Your fathers and I tried tying her down, holding her, everything we could think of, but she continued to toss and turn, tearing at the ropes, clawing our faces and ripping the bedclothes. We sat and waited for her to come out of it, which didn’t take long. After a few minutes, she stopped writhing and began to gulp in air. We began asking ‘What happened?’ and things like that. She told us that she had seen a great war between Good and Evil, Elvex, Tarcus, Groyld and several others she mentioned later in the middle of it. Second, she saw the grown Elvex killing the King and Prince of the Orcs in the Forest of Poamire and finding one of the jeweled swords on his person. Third, she then saw Elvex accompanied by Vampyres and Tarcus being captured by Orcs. Then she saw Elvex, Tarcus, Kasi, Blari, one of the Vampyres and a deformed...thing fighting off Orc Warlocks and Elvex hypnotizing one of them. She then saw Elvex meeting with two Lycanthropes and them journeying to the Lycanthrope capital on bizarre mounts. Then, she saw him finding a great Samurai accompanied by a God. The God of War: Zrat, in his human form! Then, she saw two Dwarves finding the camp of the eleven and joining them. Then, he was talking with the leaders of all the Greater Races of the Lands, planning to attack the Evil’s army in a great war that would tear the Land apart. Then, she fell asleep and didn’t wake until she was to bear you into the world.” Aloom sat back, staring at the disbelieving faces in front of his.
Elvex was the first to speak, his voice slightly high-pitched. “Did my mother say anything after she woke up?”
“No,” said Aloom. “She woke, bore you, named you and then fell back to sleep.”
“Was she sure it was Groyld, Elvex, me and all those others?” asked Tarcus, his cast creaking as he sat forward.
“Sit back or that cast will crack!” snapped Aloom. “She was positive that it was them, though we didn’t believe it for a time. Is that all?” he added, casting wary glances at the two in front of him. “I want you two to go and pack for a hunt.”
“What?” cried the twosome. Elvex angrily added “I was going to meet Kasi at the General Store and take her out!” Tarcus burst out at the same time, “How can I hunt with this cast?”
“I don’t care what you two think!”Aloom had roared, standing up to his full height. “We need more venison unless you want to go hungry, lose the house or become bankrupt! Now go!”
The two grumbled and stalked out of the room. Elvex turned at the door, asking’ “Can I at least go tell her--?”
“I’ll send a message,” Aloom had snarled. “Now go!” Now, here he was, laying uncomfortably behind a bush instead of eating at the Round Tables or watching a fencing match with Kasi, his fiancé and daughter of his least favorite person, the town smith, Roin. He glanced up, chewing the piece of grass he had stuck in his mouth, and swiftly but silently leapt to his feet. The deer had finished drinking and was wandering aimlessly back into the trees. Elvex scooped up his sword and hurled it at the deer’s backside. The blade wedged itself into the deer, killing it instantly. He gave a silent arm thrust of approval and strode forward to retrieve his sword and the deer. He began hauling them back to the bush where he had been crouching. This was his third deer and fine time for Tarcus to start his part of the hunt. He laid the deer carefully behind the bush and began to pick up his food pouch and waterskin when he noticed several footprints in the forest clearing, nowhere near where he had walked. He ignored them and buckled his food pouch around his waist. He tucked his waterskin away and belted his shield to his back. He sheathed his sword and lugged the deer to the camp he and Tarcus had made.
Tarcus looked up, mildly surprised with his quick return. His yellow eyes bore into Elvex as he started to ask “Back so--”
“I’ll be back in a minute,” said Elvex, throwing his food pouch and waterskin by his bedroll. He turned on his heel and strode back to the clearing.
He quickly walked over to the footprints by the far side of the watering hole. He studied them and decided they had to have come from an Orc. But why would Orcs be in the Poamire Forest? he asked himself. The answer came quickly and in the form of golden bolts.
A bolt came flying from the trees behind Elvex and where the footprints led to. Elvex dove behind the closest bush and yanked out his sword without a sound. He quickly strapped his shield to his arm and began to run at the tree, shield raised high and sword parrying all the bolts that came beyond his shield. He reached the tree and attacked the being behind it. The crossbow splintered and Elvex had his sword pulled from his hand as the being dropped the crossbow and raised its fists. He slammed his fist into the side of the person’s head and brought the other under the jaw, feeling the bone crack as he connected. The form in front of him toppled over, groaning. Elvex wrenched his sword loose from the crossbow and raised it for the death blow.
“Wait!” called a voice from behind a different tree. A hooded and cloaked figure strode out, his hands reaching up to pull back his hood. As the hood came back, Elvex stared and felt his jaw drop in surprise. The person under the hood was none other than Roin, as far as he could tell. His nose had became oddly squashed and burned and the ash on his face had sunk into his skin, giving him the appearance of an Orc.
“Why are you here?” asked Elvex in a hushed voice.
“You just attacked my son, Prince of the Orcs!” bellowed Roin, his eyes upon the figure under Elvex’s feet and a thin line of drool hanging from his mouth.
A muffled, half unintelligible voice came from the rumpled form at Elvex’s feet. “Faver, you thad he wooldn’t fight back!”
“Are you here to fulfill the prophecy?” hissed Elvex to Roin, anger edging his voice, his face dressed in an ugly expression. He started to strap the shield back onto his back.
“Prophecy?” asked the being under Elvex. “Faver, what is he--”
“You shut up,” said Elvex, kicking the stout figure.
“The prophecy of your fool of a mother?” growled Roin, his angry face growing more and more enraged. “She died in battle and that ‘prophecy’ is nothing but a load of lies!”
“My mother didn’t die in battle!” shouted Elvex, having his turn to enhance his anger. She died when an assassin snuck into our house and murdered her! You’re the one full--”
“Is that what your joke of a grandfather told you?” screamed Roin. “She wasn’t a housewife! She was the leader of the mighty warrior women, the Amazons! The Orc and Amazon army clashed in this very forest! She had the Holy Armor on but one of my best Orc Clerics threw a vial of unholy water from that pond,” he jabbed his finger at the watering hole, “and doused her in it! The nearest warrior of ours instantly slew her and the army faltered, giving us a leg up! You’re standing right where your dear mother died!”
Elvex had fallen to his knees during this explanation and was now breathing heavily. “Y-you’re lying,” he gasped, his breath faltering.
“Lying, am I?” yelled Roin triumphantly. “Up, Yior, my son!” The Orc sent flying by Elvex’s kick scrambled up, Elvex’s sword clamped tightly in his hand. “Let’s kill this fool now, before his foolish brother comes to try to kill us!”
Elvex hadn’t taken in a word of what Roin had said. He was fighting his own battle in his head. One voice was telling him That’s the Orcs: Tell lies about the person’s family, then kill them.
But then, a smaller much more reasonable voice said, What if he’s telling the truth? What if Ebe really was the leader of the Amazons and died in battle against the Orcs?
Orcs are liars.
Telling the truth!
Lying!
TELLING THE TRUTH!
“SHUT UP!” roared Elvex, his temper exploding. He leapt up and roared one word from his consciousness: “WAKI!!!”
Fire erupted from his body and lanced out, catching Roin and Yior firmly in its tentacles. The two Orcs looked immensely surprised and instantly dropped their swords. They thrashed and writhed, but, the more they thrashed, the tighter the fire enveloped them. Elvex quickly released the Orcs, seconds early. Yior had already turned to ash, but Roin was to incredibly burned to move anywhere.
Elvex leapt upright, grabbed his sword and Roin’s sword, sheathed his and strode to the burnt body next to him. He placed the blade of the sword on Roin’s neck, saying : “Up! And give me your sheath and food pouch, too.”
No response. Elvex repeated himself but Roin ignored him again, laying face down. Elvex bent down to shake the Orc, but got a gigantic shock.
A smoldering hole had appeared in the back of Roin’s robes. Elvex shakily turned him over and saw that the hole lined exactly up with another one, exactly where Roin’s heart should have been. Elvex threw up next to the body, the yellow-colored acid casting an eerie light around the clearing.
Elvex rummaged in the robes after he had finished vomiting and found the sheath and food pouch that Roin had been carrying. He turned the sheath over in his hands and saw an unreadable word engraved in the metal. He tilted it closer to his pool of vomit and read the word “Pouer”. He questionably strapped the sword next to his and slowly wandered back to the camp, tossing the food pouch from hand to hand.
Tarcus looked up again as Elvex entered the clearing. “What happened? I heard you yelling...”
“Yeah, I’ll tell you later,” replied Elvex. “Can you tell me who or what Pouer is or was?”
“Why?” asked Tarcus.
Elvex told him what had happened in the clearing. Tarcus stared at him after he had finished the story and asked, jaw open wide “Who would’ve thought? Roin, the King of the Orcs....”
“Roin was the King?” asked Elvex, his stomach dropping. He had killed the King of the Orcs?
“Yeah, he was,” said Tarcus, eying Elvex nervously. “He disappeared years ago after the Battle of Poamire, about the same time as our Roin suddenly appeared in the village. Boy, are YOU in hot water...”
“Yes, yes,” said Elvex impatiently. “What about Pouer?”
“Oh, yes, Pouer,” said Tarcus, coming out of his reverie. “Well, Pouer was the greatest warrior of all time who suddenly disappeared. The Dwarf Shamons said they could see his spirit roam from place to place, but didn’t have any proof. The day after he disappeared, his wife saw, scrawled on the wall in charcoal, HELP ME! THEY’RE ATTACKING ME! THE RED KNIFE IS WITH THE FAITHE... and it just trailed off. His wife had the all the Bibles and chapels of the Gods searched, from Atyu to Zrat, but they never found a red knife.
“This sword is red,” said Elvex, drawing the blade from its sheath.
“His wife had no idea that his sword was red, as she had never seen him us it,” said Tarcus. “Anyway, in a few days, Pouer’s wife was attacked by Orcs. They knocked her uncon-scious in the struggle. When she woke up the next morning, all the pillows and mattresses they owned had been slashed open. Even the chicken coop had been searched. Many of the chicken’s nests had been overturned and the chickens where all over the yard with their heads yards away from the bodies.”
“Of course!” said Elvex, punching his right hand with his left fist. “He was trying to write ‘feathers’ but while he was writing, his head was hit with a blunt object, so he almost wrote ‘faithers’. It all fits!”
“Whatever,” said Tarcus irritably. “A spy within the Orc Nation sent a message to the Leaders of the Axis of 6. A few days after the attack, the King, Tynpo at the time, was carrying a sword that looked like Pouer’s. He was never heard from again, so the Leaders sent a new spy. This one sent message that the sword was Pouer’s sword, and, a few days later, the King died and passed the sword on to his oldest son, Zupe.
“So that’s how Roin got his filthy hand on it!” yelled Elvex, again punching his right hand with his left fist. “He got it from his father! And this was the sword my mother was talking about in the prophecy!” He yanked the sword out of its sheath, swinging it experimentally.
“Whatever,” said Tarcus again, kicking dirt into the fire. “I’m going to sleep, so shut your great face.” He walked over to his bedroll and stretched out on it, taking care not to crack the cast on his side.
Elvex laid down on his bedroll also. He almost instantly fell asleep.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Elvex woke with a start. He could have sworn a breeze had been blowing in his ear. He decided it was just his imagination and tried to fall back asleep. He failed to do so, so he started going through Roin’s old food pouch. He found a second sword, a crossbow, some golden bolts and the venison Roin or Yior had purchased the day before. He quickly woke Tarcus and showed him they didn’t need to hunt anymore.
“Well, good,” grumbled Tarcus. “Thanks for waking me up at-”-he stopped to consult the sun’s position in the sky-“-at almost 7 in the morning.”
“Let’s go home,” said Elvex, striding back over to his belongings. “Aloom will be angry with us when we finally get there for being so slow, or dawdling, or some dumb thing like that, but happy we somehow recovered his venison.” He shoved all the venison and weaponry into his food pouch. He filled Roin’s food pouch with leaves and some mashed berries. He then set a net into the ground and stretched it taut. Tarcus watched him with interest.
“So, all we have to do when we hunt next is find the net,” asked Tarcus, “and we’ll have the meat?”
“Sort of,” responded Elvex, strapping his sword and shield to his person and carefully stepping over the net. “It’s also to capture any other Orcs following us.”
“That’s a pretty good idea!” agreed Tarcus. “Let’s go!”