The Silverwing Forerunner

It's happy hour, the alcohol is flowing. It's time to pull up a tankard of ale, bottle of wine for the ladies and regail tales of heroism and grandeur.

Topic/Postby Vennie » 06 Aug 2008, 11:51

The Silverwing Forerunner

The forerunner ran through the forests of Ashenvale vigorously, effortlessly dodging each tree and obstacle in her way. The three orcs smashed their way through each obstacle left standing between them and the elven envoy. She glanced behind her to find them shouting at her and decaptitating nature with each swing of their thorium axes. She leapt behind a tree briefly, climbing up the ancient structure as she watched them run past her without notice. In complete silence, she leapt from the great oak and landed in perfect balance. She breathed heavily, although it was strained, as if she was trying to subdue the noise made from inhaling and exhaling. Without warning, an orc sprang from the shadows. He roared as he swung his axe at the fair skinned elf, who almost immediately lept into the air and clung to a branch from the oak she had just departed from. The orc snarled at the wolf helm wearing elf, who bore the tabard of the Silverwing.

A number of orcish cries sounded before the three orcs who she had previously tricked returned and surrounded the ancient oak. Each began to hack at the tree, seemingly attempting to bring the elf to them. There was a fair distance between the tree and the nearby lake, but there was no choice. There was risk, but that risk would determine life or death, deliverance or failure. The elf hung down from a branch, the orcs' axes just out of reach as she swung around it, gradually picking up speed before letting go of the branch as she performed a backward somersault to edge herself closer to the lake. The orcs rushed toward her, swinging their axes with urgency. The elf ran at an alarming speed before diving straight into the lake, one orc managing to slash a section of her tabard. He held it in his hands, before throwing it, enraged at the messenger's escape. At this point he noticed that he was standing on a mark. He looked up and a moment too late as a dagger drove straight into his green skull. The orc cried out as he fell like an ancient oak onto the ground.

His companions, who had been searching other parts of the lake rushed to his side, but by this time the poison embellished dagger had done it's duty. One orc turned to the waters and stared down into them. Without warning, a tentacle like stave fell out of the water. The orc slashed the tentacles with it's axe, roaring. The other orcs glanced briefly but assuming their fellow soldier had the situation controlled returned to searching for the envoy. The orc felt a tap on his shoulder and turned to see the forerunner, who kicked his him harshly into the waiting tentacles, which comfortably devoured him. Another orc rushed to the place as the silverwing runner had disappeared into the trees. Again a soldier was fooled, walking into a trap as roots grabbed his feet and swung him upside down, hanging by a branch on the tree. Without time to even cry out for help, a dagger drove into his neck. The final orc, realising his other colleagues to be dead, fleed in terror.

The sentinel hung from a branch and landed quietly on her feet. She pulled an envelope from her busom and smiled, placing it back where it was and disappearing into the Ashenvale undergrowth.
Vennie
 

Topic/Postby Fritzor » 06 Aug 2008, 18:41

interessting to read. well done
Fritzor
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Posts: 149
Location: sweden down south


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