NIGHTELVES and ORCS in SPACE

I wrote this because I'm awesome.



06/24/06




A deathlike silence enveloped the surrounding area as an uprising of frigid mist glided across the frozen landscape. Inanimate corpses of slain warriors were dispersed sporadically along the snow laden battle-zone, their grotesque visages portrayed sights of haunting agony and torment. The shattered remnants of destroyed cargo vehicles burned with gouts of black smoke and charred wood, fractured weapons littered the ground among the dead, it was visually chaotic array of death and discord. The few Night Elves left alive lay unconscious or were trapped within mangled piles of smoking wreckage, the serene silence of deep winter broke only when a few faint screams echoed across the perilous mountainside.

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              Tynea rose from the ruins cautiously, injured and exhausted.

She felt heavily disoriented, the scene before her looked like a glazed grey mess as her silvern eyes fought to adjust from their unfocused state. Her senses were frayed, and her body was scathed and bruised, she struggled to stand upright to wonder aimlessly through the wreckage. She moved down the broad mountain region to where she could look back and still observe the black spirals of twisting smoke rising slowly towards the evening sky. With no understanding of her location she began to seek refuge from the rapidly increasing cold, the winds felt sharp as they cut through her torn clothing; she tossed away her battered plate suit to alleviate her movement earlier so now she traveled unprotected. She held her arm raised and observed how the delicate shade of her violet skin was now obscured by bloodstains and filth, an intense throb of depression sank deep within her as she trudged onward through the thickly layered snow banks.

              The battle had left the landscape in ruins with fallen trees and ripped earth. Mutilated bodies of Orc warriors and Night Elves alike lay strewn out in the open. The bloodshed had lasted a short time, but the remains from the confrontation served as a reminder of how brutal it had been. It appeared as though a party of nearly thirty Night Elves had been ambushed while traveling to their home of Astranaar from the snowy depths of northern Winterspring during a season of treacherous blizzards and severe cold, they had been conducting an annual hunting expedition and their crude weapons did little to defend against the band of Orc fighters. Though the Night Elves had fought valiantly, the blood lusting Orcs slaughtered them mercilessly, and by some measure of an impossibility Tynea had managed to survive the battle, only to be left helplessly scouring the desolate mountain range in search of help.

               So many images and feelings raced through her troubled mind, remembering much of anything had become burdensome. Inordinate flashes of action and fighting remerged at random as Tynea attempted to recall the events that had occurred, but it was almost as if there was an indescribable block disrupting her thoughts that she couldn’t ascertain, but despite this, the feeling that there was nothing that could be done aside from staying alive at this point began to take hold.

               Tynea continued mindlessly, approaching the edge of what appeared to be an archaic forest set deep within the surrounding mountainscape; there was a good chance that suitable shelter existed within. She ventured into the darkened woods without any understanding on what to expect. The winds lowered to a brooding state within the sheltered woodland, giant tree branches swayed harmoniously as they brushed against one another, and dull beams of fading sunlight coursed through the intricate array of forestry overhead which provided enough lighting to observe the surroundings. An eerie calm presided over the snow-stroked land; Tynea became swift and alert as she began to notice hints of swift movement from the sound of ruffling underbrush and compacting snow. Judging by the speed of the movement, Tynea concluded that there must be some animal-like creature moving through the forest around her. The sound of the movements increased as Tynea began to feel a surge of adrenaline course through her; she scouted around to identify the origin of the noise. Perhaps a wild beast who had sought to devour her flesh prowled along her path in anticipation for the kill, or maybe the band of savage Orcs had hunted her down in order to complete their extermination of the Night Elf party, neither proposition seemed appealing. Suddenly, the sound had ended almost as if nothing had happened, Tynea stood in place with a confused look, her knees deep in snow. It was possible that she had imagined the sounds, as if extreme weather and exhaustion had caused her to become delirious.

              As she continued the sky grew a deeper shade of crimson when sun descended, and had become illuminated by pale moon-beams and flickering stars. The cold was bone chilling, and Tynea had little to defend against the elements. She had constructed a small shelter inlaid with the softest materials she could find in her backpack; the forest appeared darkened beneath the glowing blue sky. She moved into the shelter gently, and tried to cover herself in the material as best as possible, it was going to be a cold night. The forest was now pitch black, Tynea laid back into her shelter and closed her eyes. Off in the distance she could hear wolves calling, it reminded her of her homeland. She wanted nothing more then to find her way back home as a sole survivor, and to tell her tale. Surely the town would prepare a group worthy of hunting down and slaying the Orcs in these lands, and avenge the fallen. It was not long before she slipped into a deep, vision filled sleep. The battle that had taken place earlier that day replayed itself with haunting realism…

             The two forces met in a collision of gleaming steel blades and clashing shields. Blood was spilled freely as the enemies fought with undying ferocity. Leadership among the Orcs disintegrated into uncontrolled acts of hateful carnage and bloodshed; the integrity of the Elf line waned, as they were struck down by the screaming monsters. The ranks were thick with battle cries and confusion, as Tynea struck fiercely with her two-handed weapon. She heaved her sturdy iron broadsword forth to defy the approaching onslaught and attempt to slay the Orc battle commander, Raezak the Bloodletter as he was known. Elf and Orc blood spattered through the wind as she weaved through the battle with the recklessness of a leaping wolf, she held her sword poised to strike at the heart of Raezak, who stood preoccupied with the decapitation of an incapacitated Night Elf warrior, it was her Brother Aelnis. An all-consuming upsurge of hatred fueled her rage as she plunged her ebon blade deep within Raezak’s bowels before he had a chance to try and parry the attack with his blood stained battle-axe. He let loose a terrible howl as he gazed deep within her silvern eyes, with a cold-hearted glimpse of merciless hatred, he then slumped forth into a pool of his own spilled blood. She kicked the body forward and ripped out her blood-slaked blade, and the enemy had begun to take notice of their commander’s death. The fighting intensified as Tynea fought to fend off the attacks of several opponents. She move and struck with the precision of a lightning strike, and cleaved outward in a whirlwind of slaughter, many Orc bodies fell screaming beneath her feet. From then on the events were a blur, indiscriminate images of bloodshed and fighting.

             Tynea awoke immediately to the sound of soft movement in the woods, the night was still in motion, and she felt almost completely numb. The pain was almost unbearable, and the remembrance of her brother brought her to tears. She clutched the frigid material covering her body but was nearly frozen solid; she began to fear for her life. Suddenly she glanced forward and saw what appeared to be a silhouette of someone roughly her size in the distance, it was approaching. As the figure moved closer, Tynea noticed a faint aura surrounding it, almost like glowing outline. At first she was frightened, and motioned towards her frost encased sword, but then the being spoke.

            “I have been observing you” it said in a soft, feminine tone. Only when the figure was standing right above Tynea did she realize that it was Night Elf, and her appearance made it look as though she was a Priestess of Elune.

            “You have proven your strength, young one. I shall guild you through these lands to our Temple of the Goddess, where you will be taken care of.”

She tried to think of a reply, but before she could respond the priestess placed her hand upon Tynea’s arm. Sudden and unexpected warmth surrounded her almost instantaneously; the priestess had begun performing a healing ritual. Tynea’s numb, aching limbs began to flow with warmth and rejuvenation; she gazed up at the priestess to see that she needed a considerable amount of concentration to heal the damage. Tynea felt a renewed sense of relief, but it was only fleeting, when it was over the priestess stood back in anticipation for Tynea to arise under her own strength, which she did with ease. Tynea glanced at her as if she had been some ethereal savior, and the priestess met her glance with a smile, and motioned for her to follow. She built up the courage to speak.

             “Why have you come here, and how do you know me?” Her words sounded shallow and confused.

             “The order is in dire need of adepts such as yourself, the forces of the horde have been converging on our lands as you may know, and it is only a matter of time before we must wage battle with a force of our own to drive them from these lands.”  The Priestess merely motioned for her to follow once more, and they began their journey through the moon-lit woods.

             “On that fateful day in which your party, including your brother fell to that ruthless band of Orcs, I was observing the battle in a spiritual presence. You loss has been great, I have no doubt, but nearly everyday similar confrontations arise, but with no survivors.” Tynea praised the Priestess profusely for having saved her life; her gratitude was met by nothing more then a glance of understanding as they started to walk. Suddenly, Tynea touched the Priestess on the shoulder, and then hugged her. The Priestess comforted her as Tynea’s tears fell to the ground and crystallized in the freezing weather.

              “Your brother was brave” the priestess spoke, “he fought with undying courage before being taken hold of by several Orcs and the leader himself, his death was noble.”

               They trekked through the dark, mist veiled woodland as the Priestess continued to describe the training Tynea would undergo. Lyndaris, as she was known, spoke of the untold savagery that had occurred throughout the Night Elf domain, and how skilled fighters such as her were needed more then ever. Tynea could sense the sadness and anger in Lyndaris’s voice as she spoke of the battles, and things were only getting worse.