Shadows Hand

 

Tablo reader up chevron

Chapter 1

The sky was dark and thunder could be heard echoing in the distance. Rorick was preforming a routine patrol of the outer wood and had his bow in hand. He brought an arrow to its string incase he came across a wolf or bear. “How many damn times do I have to be stuck out in the woods during weather like this?” He said aloud. He noticed the wind was picking up, bringing his cloak up around his shoulders. A shadow off to his right made his training kick in. Like many times before in the academy, he went to the closest object that would provide him with cover. Rorrick swung to his left bringing his body up against a large oak tree. He trained his bow on the shadow and pulled the string back on his bow with a trained ease. “As soon as you slow…” Rorick let the arrow loose. The wooden arrow flew straight and sped towards the shadow. The shadow immediately fell to the ground. The arrow flew high over the shadows body. Rorick swung to his right hiding behind the tree. “Damnit!” Roricks cursed to himself. A second later he could hear the shadow’s feet striking the ground in a full blown run. Rorick pulled a dagger from his vest and waited to attack. He would spin and strike the shadow in an attempt to surprise it. “One… two… THREE!” Rorick spun to his right and lunged forward. The dagger wielded in his right hand punched forward, coming short of striking its target. The shadow stopped and turned; a leg or arm, Rorrick couldn’t make out which, swung towards his hand holding the weapon and struck the dagger from his hand. Pain exploded in Roricks right arm. The dagger tore through the air and slammed blade first into a tree to his right. Strike after strike was delivered to Roricks waist, chest, and hips. The pattern was organized and chaotic at the same time, baffling Rorricks mind at the precision of the strikes. Rorick could feel blood in his mouth. When he was hit with what felt like a hammer to his chest, he flew back slamming into a tree. Blood burst from his mouth and poured from his lips. 

 

Rorrick saw his attacker, a human male with a shaved head clothed in a white lenin vest and brown baggy linen pants. His physical ability was now apparent due to the lean muscle that could be seen from the attackers vest. A silver bracer on each forearm showed a dragon in combat. His brown leather boots had steel plating up the shins. Rorrick now understood who his attacker was that stood before him. The human bowed and walked slowly up to Rorrick who tried to call out for help, only having more blood bubble up into his throat. A monk of the Dragons Scale Temple, Here? Why? The monk standing over Rorick spoke with an emotionless tone, “You failed Ranger…” A kick from the monks left leg struck Rorick’s head causing his neck to snap at a sharp angle. He watched Rorricks chest fall flat and then turned to see the approaching clouds. “Time to leave.” the monk then with the rustling of the wind through the tree branches appeared to vanish. A yellow orc banner fell from somewhere in the canopy the trees made over Rorricks corpse. The cloth displayed a red line piercing a red circle.    

 

Quo had to move fast, he had just executed a member of the royal guard. “Why would master Xi send me out here to kill a single guard?” Why did he want me to leave an orc banner near the body?.” Master Xi had told Quo he had been summoned by the seven masters for an important task. He at first questioned the task, however was reeducated about following commands. Quo was leaping from tree to tree. Within an hour he was safely outside the Queens region. As Quo landed on a thick branch, deep in the Shadewood, he spun around and knelt down on the branch he had come to rest on. Quo observed the land behind him it was a vast sea of green with dark grays and blacks making up the mountains on the horizon. The clouds seemed to be swallowing up the sky. It will take a day or less to make it back to the temple, Quo said to himself. Quo closed his eyes and allowed his mind to sink deep into nothingness. “I need guidance.” Quo whispered as he began his meditation. 

 

Quo could hear whispers at first, slowly increasing in volume as he sank deeper into meditation. “You have done well, you made the assassination look like an orc raid causing the masters to be pleased.” Quo could not see any details of the speaker but could definitely tell he or she was beyond human. “What is the point in starting this war?” There was a silence that spanned a few moments, “I don’t need a point.” was the reply he received, than nothing.  

 

As if Quo had been smacked he took a deep breath and saw that the storm had cleared and the sun was already sinking below the horizon. Unsure when would be the best time to travel, Quo leaped down from the high tree he had been resting in. Landing on the dirt road below he could feel his muscles ache from the exertion he had placed on his body through. “I have to remember, none of the gifts given are permanent or without cost.” Quo had been given increased speed and agility to complete his mission by Master Xi.

 

 At first he was afraid of some other worldly power giving him anything, but it had proven useful. Master Xi had asked him to just obey but Quo had been a little resistant; “I can not accept something from this other power master, it is not our way. The one source would not approve!” Xi, with just his finger tips, struck Quo multiple times, rendering him immobile. “You will do as I say!” With a single punch to his nose, Quo slept in painful darkness. 

 

There was a weight in Quo’s pocket, a quick check revealed a ring. It was just a simple dull silver band. Etched into the band were swirl like symbols. “How curious.” Quo said to himself. Another check of the pocket revealed a note. 

    -Use this ring for a more permanent boost to your speed and agility. - Master Xi

Quo hesitantly put the ring on and his body felt the rings effects almost immediately. Although he was still stiff from the combat and escape, he felt as if he could easily do it again. “Nothing without a price.” he said to himself. 

 

A group of well armed men stood around Rorick’s body. “Who the hell did this?” It looks like he has been beat to death with a hammer.” Welson looked over Rorick’s body. “Convenient how there is a torn piece of an Orcs war party banner near by.” Another member of the group knelt down near the body. “You don’t believe this was done by an orc, troll, or hell any of the others?” Welson saw an arrow stuck in a tree a good bit away from the body. “Rorrick never misses and how many times have we all been put up against those smelly beasts?” The men nodded, “No. this was not some usual orc, or anything Rorrick had faced before. We are looking at a close quarters combatant who is fast and brutal.” Welson’s eyes caught a glare from another tree. He walked over and with some effort pulled a dagger from the tree. “Someone who likes to use weapons? Hammer, dagger, or…” Welson walked back over to Rorrick. “Lets get back and inform the commander, we need his blessing before we can look into this further… bring the orc banner as-well.” The group hoisted Rorrick’s body up onto a wagon and proceeded east, towards Isilliander.

 

A gray skinned male sat on a stone throne. Everything was covered in swirls of shadow. “The pieces have been moved and the way will slowly be made clear.” A group of robed individuals circled the speaker. “We need to send an agent to guide this contact of yours Lord Wruald.” Wruald nodded, “Very well… send someone useful.” One of the robed figures stepped forward, “I already have someone in mind.” 

 

Ethandril was stringing his black oak bow when he stopped and looked up from his work. “What is it?” A small goblin limped up to him, “You have been summoned by lord Wruald to go to Terra.” The goblin handed him a small scroll, “This details your mission.”

 

Tearing open the seal, Ethandril looked over the scroll. The right side of his mouth twitched into a grin. “I will head out immediately, let them know I accept.” As the goblin left, Ethandril plucked the bow string, relaxing to the sound it made. He checked the rest of his gear and made his way to Ebony tower. Ethandril hated teleportation, it always left him sick to his stomach for some time. On his arrival he stepped up to the dais. “Terra!” Ethandril shouted and closed his eyes. He felt a pull at the core of his stomach, he was falling then, spinning, and finally he felt his feet tap solid ground. When Ethandril opened his eyes he saw  a rocky terrain covered in snow. 

 

Ethandril sighed and with a shake of his head he tried to get an idea of where he was. “A map would have been useful, but you can’t expect much from hasty royals.” With a smile at his remark about royals he had a gut feeling telling him to head west.

Comment Log in or Join Tablo to comment on this chapter...

Chapter 2

Welson exited the commanders quarters, “What did he say?” asked Cormil. “He wants us to scout for this orc war band… Then he wants us to find out why they did what they did.” Cormil made a face of disgust, “Did you not tell him that you did not believe it was an orc?” Welson looked down the street, “He said he didn’t care what I believed, he cared about the evidence.” Welson and Cormil went to gather the rest of their group. As Welson walked he stared at the cobble stone street. His mind constantly reminding him… “This is a trap… and yet, I am willingly walking right into it.”      

 

Quo was walking along the roadway, he could see a strange traveler approaching. Quo made sure to keep his posture humble, “Hide in plain sight.” Master Xi would always tell him. During that course of training, Quo wondered if he was being trained more for assassination, rather than peace. The traveler watched him as they passed each other. Quo could feel a strange dreaded aura emitting from the traveler. Quo noticed a full quiver holding a great many elaborate black arrows. “A warrior perhaps?” Quo continued on, he would reach his destination in a few hours. 

 

Welson and his men had started out early and were making their way towards one of the many orc keeps. Welson spoke aloud to his group; “We are headed towards the Red Tusk’s, remember they hate strangers and are prone to attack.” They had been given strict orders to question the orc bands in the area about the strange sigil that was left near Rorrick’s body. Welson knew the best group to ask first would be the reds. “They seem to have all the news on the war bands.” Welson thought to himself. “Once I have my answer here I can look further for the real culprit. A new assassins guild perhaps?” Welson had lost himself in thought again. His father told him he was more of a scholar than a warrior, however that fact didn’t much matter to his father. “I will not raise a coward!” His father would always scream, every time Welson fell to the floor during their training sessions. The only proud thing Welson had done for his father was prove to be quite skillful with a sword. “Leave violence, to appease men of violence.” Welson could not remember where he had read that quote…

 

Sir!” Welson looked up at Cormil,  “Yes Cormil? What is it?” Cormil pointed to the mountain pass they had to use to reach the Red Tusk war band. “Sir the pass is blocked.” Welson approached, his horse did not approve and tried to stall. Before him stood two very large, very muscular, yellow skinned orcs. Welsons ability to speak orc was pretty rusty since the Tor’ Rach-Nian wars from ten years ago. “Great red tusks, I ask to see your war-chief in guidance to a problem.” The orc to Welsons right responded, “I am afraid that will not be possible… you see…” The orc threw down a blue piece of cloth. The same cloth that had the queen’s seal embroidered with gold and silver thread. “You see…” the orc continued… “it would appear that one of your more fanatical warriors was looking for some trouble.” The orc walked over to a large mound which was covered with a brown leather tarp. The orc pulled the tarp clear of the mound. Welson had to cover his mouth in an attempt from getting sick from the sight. Orc bodies, burned, cut, and riddled with arrows lay in a large pile. “This is not good…” Welson thought. A closer inspection of the bodies and he realized none of them wore armor or carried a weapon, “citizens.”. The bodies consisted of orc females and orc children of both sex. Welson quickly turned back to the two orcs. “It seems we have the same problem.” Welson tossed down the ripped up orc banner with the red sigil painted upon it. “This was found near one of our queens guard. The man was brutally beaten and left on display.” The orc stared at the banner piece for a moment. Welson could see that the orc recognized the banner.  “I do not know of any war parties traveling to your territory.” Welson thought it strange the mental capacity of this orc. He had always read that they were a simple and brutal people. They looked the part most definitely, but this one certainly had a knack for thinking. Which Welson was thanking every god he could name at that moment. “Is this a clans banner you know?” Welson asked with a calm and steely voice. The orc nodded, “Yes it is one of ours… I would suggest you leave human.” Welson was about to argue the point before a thirty man war party began to encircle the group. “I would suggest you leave and pray that we give you quick deaths. Your lack of honorable combat human makes my axe call to me.” Before Welson could even give the command to run loud horns were blown and a force of rage charged towards the small group of queen guard. “So this is what hell looks like… as it is about to swallow you up…” 

 

 

Earlier…

 

Ethandril was surprised to see a small orc encampment at the base of a small mountain. “Strange, that such creatures would live in the open.” A smile creeped across his face. “You will strike fear in both the humans and orcs. Divide them with chaos and cause them to go to war. Let the races of Isilliander and orc tribes be pitted against each other!” Wruald’s words echoed in his mind at that moment. “Orders are orders…” Ethandril said to himself as he approached with his bow drawn. “What kind of soldier would I be if I did not follow orders.” Ethandril laughed as he tracked an orc boy running to its mother. The black arrow tore through its throat in mid hug with its mother. The arrow plunged into the mothers chest, ceasing the orcs beating heart. The small camp erupted into confusion as black arrows shot from what appeared to be every direction. Ethandril’s bow would launch an arrow that would disappear and reappear near its intended target. The ebony tipped arrows plunging into their bodies with a magical force. Ethandril moved with supernatural speed. He would approach the camp at what appeared to be different angles. Those who were too close for his bow he would meet with a curved saber. Ethandrils sword tore through stomachs, necks, and what ever instruments the orcs would use in a feeble attempt to defend themselves. Ethandril laughed as an elderly orc male tried to use a pitch fork to parry his blade. Ethandril leapt away from the orc and fired a bolt of lighting that arced from his finger tips to its target. The lighting burnt the old orcs flesh, searing it black and causing it to rupture. The elderly orc fell to the ground as his body still twitched from the electrical charge. “Imbecile…”  Ethandril laughed. The orcs ran, calling for aide while trying to get up the mountain pass. “Help!” they screamed. Ethandril whispered, “They can’t…” as he continued his assault on the camp. When it was done he touched a red ring on his left hand, causing a faint orange glow to emit from the ring. Ethandril knelt down and touched the ground beneath him. Small fire elementals rose up from the ground. The elementals blackening the earth and all they came in contact with. “Burn everything.” he commanded. 

 

Ethandril watched for a time as the elementals sped through the camp, igniting fires with anything they came in contact with. He remembered taking the ring from a mage a few years before. The mage was so confident in his powers he did not think to properly defend himself from attack. It was a brutal fight but eventually, Ethandril had bested him. He touched the ring, a simple trinket that had the ability to summon entities from the plane of fire. Ethandril smiled, he knew the ring had its limits but he liked to test those limits. 

 

Hearing alarms coming from somewhere up the mountain, he quickly dismissed his fiery agents and blended into the near by wooded area. He left a small token of evidence behind, a blue banner cloth he had received from the goblin was tossed near the road. “Let the games begin.” Ethandril blended in with his environment, allowing him to leave the area with out being detected. 

 

Welson was screaming commands to his men. Arrows were flying from his left and right, causing his defensive line to break. “Hold!” Welson screamed, “Bring up shields!” Cormil was struck down a few feet away. A spear pierced his stomach and a sword flashed across his throat, severing his head. Welson blinked, his mouth went dry. Another soldier gave the command to their few remaining archers, “Archers! Take aim and fire!” Only a handful of the Queens guard remained. Their volley was small but effective. Welson saw the orc advance slow. “Sword brothers, advance!” Welsons men met the orcs head on. Each side swung their weapon with practiced efficiency. What was happening here was no longer combat to Welson, it was survival. A large axe swept across Welsons face, barely missing him, its wielder was as large as two men. Its arms alone, thicker than most trees. The attacker redirected its swing, bringing the axe down from overhead. Welson came directly at his attacker and spun to the right, allowing the axe to miss him and strike the ground. Sparks showered the orc from its blade striking the earth before him. Welson turned his swords blade horizontally and plunged it through the orcs rib cage. A roar so hideous and primal knocked Welson back. He looked down to his hand and cursed himself. His sword was stuck in the orcs side. Welson crouched and waited for the orc to come at him. All around him was shouting and horns calling for reinforcements. “We are dead… played as fools.” Welson leaped forward, trying to tackle the orc. A series of elbows and fists came down on his back. He could feel his armor giving under each massive blow. Welson was able to grab his sword however and turned the blade with all his might. The orc screamed and tried to push Welson away as the swords blade opened its wound and applied pressure to its rib cage. With that push Welson freed his sword as it tore out of the orcs side. The orc fell to the ground, its blood filling up its lungs and pooling beneath him. Welson turned to his left as another orc made its way over to him. 

 

Quo stopped, he could smell a strong odor of smoke. Turning towards the smell he could see smoke rising in the distance. “How odd.” he thought. “What could be causing so much smoke?” He decided to jog the rest of the way, ignoring the smoke. “It could just be a camp fire… besides, Master Xi expected me back an hour ago.” With a thought to the ring on his finger, his speed was increased and allowed him to cover more ground quickly. 

 

The sun had sunk to the horizon when Quo arrived at the temple. “Thank the light.” he breathed. Quo limped his way to the door. “Your report?” Master Xi was standing behind him. The only goliath Quo had ever met who had master himself to such a degree that he made no sound when moving. Lost in thought at what other secrets this master monk had caused Quo to hesitate before immediately going to the ground. “The task is done master.” master Xi nodded. “Go rest.” Before Quo could raise his head master Xi had vanished. Quo opened the door to the temple and made his way to his room. His body was stiff and he could feel fatigue taking its toll. Magic or not, the body had its limits no matter what you used to enhance it. Quo laid down on his bed roll; it was only a few minutes before he fell asleep. 

 

The orc leveled its spear at Welson, taunting him to fight. The orc had numerous scars running down its arms that stopped midway down its forearms. Welson thought to circle the creature but more and more orcs were winning their engagements against his men. “Surrender human, or die.” The orc stared him down, waiting for his response. “You will slaughter us, there is no point in surrender now.” Welson countered. The orc lowered his spear and gave a command to stop. Every orc disengaged their opponent and took a step back. They were organized to such a degree it made Welson’s gut turn. They were brutal, efficient, and worse yet… extremely well trained. “Throw down your weapons!” Welson ordered, to what was left of his group. He had left the city with close to twenty five men, he had only ten left. A quick look also showed that only five of the orcs had been bested. Those orcs had taken severe punishment before they had allowed death to take them. “How could they take so much punishment before dying?” Welson thought. He turned to look at his captors, they had stab wounds, cuts, and other injuries… some pretty serious. They stood without even a glance to their wounds, no pain at all shown on their faces. The look they gave back was cold, determined, and made Welsons spine tingle. The orc walked up to him, “You will explain to our chief why your people decided to attack. Maybe, just maybe, he will send you back as a prisoner of war… if demands are met.” He turned to a severely wounded guardsmen. “Put him on a horse and send him back to his momma.” The soldier had tears running down his face. He thought he was going home. He thought he would see his wife and child. That changed when his gut was cut, disemboweling him completely. “I never said alive.” The orcs men laughed, “To the Hold!” 

Comment Log in or Join Tablo to comment on this chapter...
~

You might like A.B. McCarter's other books...