El-Vador's Travels

by J. R. Karlsson

  It sighted the young Elf again and soared through the air once more, seeking to end this swiftly.

  El-Vador was forced into diving clear of the raking claws a second time, though he wasn't so fortunate in his evasion. They tore into his exposed back as he fell away, causing him to cry out in pain.

  Angered at having been struck, he drew back the bowstring to the ear and let fly once more — and the creature caught the arrow mid-flight with another savage chuckle. It snapped the shaft and let the splinters fall to the floor before a deft flicking motion of its hand bereft El-Vador of his quiver. It hovered over the Elf's bewildered head and tore itself into pieces before his eyes, the remnants landing uselessly at his feet.

  His bow was jerked out of his hand and its arms creaked under invisible force before giving way.

  The string swept forward and wrapped itself over El-Vador's throat. His hands scrabbled at it desperately as it started to cut off the supply of air but for all their clawing they couldn't remove it.

  He was drawn forward through the air under the watchful gaze of this hateful beast.

  'Don't you see?' it asked him. 'You cannot fight me any more than you can fight the turning of the seasons. I am nature, I am the law and I hold mastery over all that you are.'

  El-Vador abandoned his attempts to prevent being strangled by his own bow string and wrapped his fingers around the creature's neck.

  Pain shot down his hands and over his arms as soon as he made contact with it, the creature offered him a toothy snarl of pleasure, it knew exactly what was happening to its prey.

  The young Elf hung on though, refusing to let the pain get the better of him, the claws of the creature snapped over his arms in an attempt to part them yet still he refused to loose his grip. Dark spots danced over his eyes as he was starved of air but if he was going to die now he was determined to take this monster with him.

  The resolve of his former prey seemed to dawn on the creature, which abandoned its attempts to separate the choke hold and instead pressed its palms into the boy's chest.

  A concussion of air boomed through the cave as El-Vador was torn free of the creature and landed heavily on his back, several feet away from where he had been drawn to before.

  Seeing his death at hand and no way of averting it, he watched and waited for the beast's next move.

  Nothing happened, the beast landed upon the altar once more and sat watching him with what El-Vador thought was a gaze of deep consideration.

  'You continued to attack me even after you knew your death was imminent,' it stated. 'Perhaps there is still some use for you. Why does your father ail?'

  'He was struck by an Orcish arrow, he suffers greatly under the occupation of our lands.'

  The creature nodded at him. 'I sense it, you hold much hatred in your heart for these Orcs. They are abominations brought onto this plain by forces outside of my control, they need to be purged.'

  'They're beasts!' El-Vador snarled, forgetting momentarily in his anger that he was talking to a beast of a different kind. 'I would rid this land of every Orc had I the power to do so.'

  The creature brandished a small phial of red liquid unlike anything El-Vador had seen before. It hovered over to his open palm and nestled there. It was as if the texture of the container was made of solid ice, yet it was transparent like the surface of a lake and didn't feel overly cold to the touch.

  'You are a fair marksman,' the beast remarked. 'Take back your bow and your quiver and when the time comes to face your deadliest foe, your arrowheads must be coated in the contents of this phial.'

  El-Vador watched speechlessly as the pieces of bow and quiver leapt off the floor of the cave and reassembled themselves mid-air, drifting back into his arms.

  'Go now, my champion. Rid the land of these beasts and strike them with all the malice and hatred that still lingers in your heart.'

  He tapped the floor with the end of his bow, then held it out at arm's length before him. It was fully formed and solid to the touch. The deep laughter echoed around the cave walls once more.

  El-Vador looked back up at the creature, unsure whether to thank him or accept his gift, he found himself staring into darkness, the beast had gone.

  Turning to leave the cave lest any other wonders befall him, he discovered that he was now stood outside the entrance as if he had never ventured beyond it.

  He took several steps back in disbelief, clutching the phial in his hand as if it were the only way of proving his sanity.

  He rubbed his eyes and scratched his head, wondering whether he had somehow imagined the entire episode. But then if that were the case how had he come across the phial? Whatever his experience had been, it had not been a dream.

  Now that he was clear of the cave he had no trouble retracing his steps to the settlement. His return journey took him through the tree line beside the fort Chief Sarvacts' Orcs and Goblins had set up near their home. As always, they had sentries posted all around the palisade, all of them vigilant and some giving him looks of distaste. There was no way that he could hope to surprise them, attempting to take the fort with just a phial added to his arsenal seemed foolish even to him.

  He had nearly reached his home settlement when he stopped in his tracks, the sentries may well be vigilant during the day, but what of the night?

  'Father?' he called as he walked into their home.

  Cusband looked up at him, he was ladling some broth into a wooden cup.

  'So you have returned,' he stated. 'What have you learned from your time in the woods?'

  El-Vador thought back to his encounter with the creature. His father must have known he would meet it there. 'I have brought back a liquid that will aid us in our struggle against the Orcs.' he said.

  'A liquid, you say?' asked Cusband, seemingly unimpressed. 'Were you told how to use this liquid?'

  'Well, not exactly.' answered El-Vador, stumbling slightly.

  'When do you plan to test this liquid?' asked the forester. 'Did you even think to ask him how it was going to save us from the Orcs?'

  'I plan on attacking them at night,' declared El-Vador, 'I'm going to smear the liquid on the arrows I fire and take them out myself.'

  'And if you find that there's no difference?' asked Cusband relentlessly. 'Do you think they will take kindly to your shooting at them? They will torch the whole settlement because of your ineptitude.'

  'Then I shall test it first.' El-Vador said. 'There is enough in the phial for many arrows, I can spare one. When that night arrives, the Orcs will bother us no more.' He held his father's gaze, waiting for his approval.

  Cusband shook his head, drinking deeply from his broth before answering. 'A lone archer, even aided by this phial of yours, could not hope to triumph against so many,' he said. 'The others would not rally to your cause either, we lost too many warriors in the first fight, those few that survived the massacre will not want to invite a second. Fighting a pitched battle against invaders is one thing, to drive off an occupation is entirely different. Even if you were to slaughter every Orc and Goblin they would simply send more until you were overwhelmed. There is nothing but death at the end of this road.'

  Such bitter cynicism took El-Vador's breath away. 'Why did you fight the invaders in the first place, if you felt like that?' he asked. 'Why not bend the knee straight away?'

  'If we could have beaten the bulk of their forces at once, they likely would have given up the campaign as a bad job and gone home,' said Cusband. 'They've done that before. Now with a single victory they're settled on the land and they see it as theirs.'

  'They may be settled, I still plan to drive them away.' El-Vador said.

  'If you drive them off they'll just be made more determined and bloodthirsty.' returned Cusband.

  El-Vador couldn't believe what he was hearing. 'So we should just give in to them? Those are the words of a craven fool.'

  He fully expected his father to swing for him, or perhaps throw the remnants of the broth in his face. In
stead the man fixed him with a saddened look, as if there were no anger in him. 'That you would call your own father that disappoints me.' he said. 'You do not know the things that I have seen and done in order to have this little peace in my life.'

  'I don't care what you've done in the past,' said El-Vador, surprising himself with the cold edge in his voice. 'You cannot stop what I will make of the future.'

  'I do not wish to see my son killed and the settlement destroyed.' answered Cusband. 'You are too young to understand that every action holds consequences.'

  'Then why send me off into that part of the forest if I am such a youth?'

  Cusband only shook his head. 'The other hunters were complaining,' he said. 'You were driving off all the game.' His eyes narrowed. 'Why do you ask?

  'You know why I'm asking,' answered El-Vador.

  'No, you went into those woods to hunt, nothing more,' said his father.

  'Never mind then,' said El-Vador, the look on his father's face was clear enough. They weren't going to discuss what happened in the woods, or how he had obtained the phial.

  When El-Vador kept silent, Cusband nodded in dour approval. 'All right,' he rumbled. 'Listen to me when I tell you it is useless to strike too soon. It may take years to happen but within your lifetime you shall see a day of reckoning with your foe. For now you must simply prepare and be patient.'

  El-Vador nodded submissively to let his father think that he would wait. All the while the wheels in his mind turned, planning the downfall of his foe.

  When Gurgash returned to their initial encampment with a message from his commanding officer, he was impressed by just how much had been altered since his departure. The wood he had previously complained about cutting had genuinely been put to good use. There were several buildings to house men and the fortifications were looking impenetrable now.

  Gurgash was accompanied by Harg and two Goblin archers, apparently those upon high didn't trust him to run a simple errand without getting in trouble.

  His cousin pointed to wagons dotting the horizon, presumably more supplies and forces to populate the land.

  'Glad there's more bodies on the way,' said one of the Goblins. 'The ranks are a bit too thin for my liking. Here's hoping there's plenty of my brethren to stick these Elves with some arrows.'

  Soon they will have dug into these lands so deeply that no Elven counter assault could remove them, assuming there would be one at all and they hadn't broken the back of their main force as had been suggested.

  Sentries at the gate of the encampment gave Gurgash and his comrades a careful once-over before standing aside and letting them go in. That only irritated the Orcs and Goblins. Gurgash wondered if the gate guards feared they were Elven infiltrators in disguise. He laughed at the idea of saboteurs painting themselves green in the hopes of blending in.

  The commanding officer he was searching for was located in a temporary barracks that would soon become the bones of a permanent stronghold. The hall was well guarded, clearly these Orcs hadn't seen the remnants of the Elves limp off after being defeated in battle.

  The inside of the barracks was lit by several braziers that hung from the ceilings, the beds were in perfect alignment and there was a degree of space that wouldn't have been seen in lesser constructions.

  Gurgash asked for the commanding officer and an Orc at the far end raised his hand and called him over, apparently he wasn't so high and mighty not to sleep in the same room as his fellow officers.

  'What tidings do you bring, messenger?'

  'I have an urgent letter from my Commander, based in the first Elven settlement we captured.' answered Gurgash.

  'Ah yes.' The Commander smiled, baring a pair of large and crooked fangs. 'Hand it over then soldier, let's see what it says that's so urgent.'

  Gurgash handed over the parchment and patiently stood at attention as his superior mused over whatever had been written there.

  'Interesting,' the officer said as he finished reading. 'A most interesting report. I shall write up a response soon, for now you can depart with a verbal instruction for your Commander.'

  Gurgash listened on in confusion as the Commander spoke.

  El-Vador carefully picked up his quiver and bow. Experimentally he had coated one arrow in the quiver with a spot of red ichor from the phial. He needed to see exactly what this would do before destroying the Orcs with it. If he could not slaughter Orcs, he would have to make do with something else, anything else.

  He coursed into the woods near his home as if demons prowled his trail, so that the Orcs would not be wary of his violation of their curfew. He needed to find something living that he could loose this arrow upon, perhaps one of the nearby farmsteads that the Orcs had been building would provide an ample target for his initial foray. Assuming that such things weren't already heavily guarded against such terrorism.

  In the distance, El-Vador distinctly heard the sound of a tree come crashing to the ground, something was out there cutting wood at this late hour and it certainly wasn't Elven.

  As he progressed further into the woods the sound of chopping increased, he knew from the direction he had headed that he wasn't far from the fortification that the Orcs had raised outside the town. Perhaps someone had forced them to work through the night. Irrespective of that they were going to regret being out here alone in the woods with just El-Vador for company.

  Judging from the sound he was very close now. There was little light in this place, El-Vador certainly wouldn't have risked hacking down large trees in this darkness. Perhaps the Orcs had little care for their servants.

  The clearing in the woods came suddenly, El-Vador halted and observed a solitary Orc cutting away at a stump outside what looked to be a farmhouse.

  'Who goes there?' the Orc asked, peering out into the tree line and startling El-Vador, it had spotted him.

  Seeing as how he couldn't put an arrow through the Orc reliably in this poor light, El-Vador paused, not knowing what to do.

  'I am El-Vador.' he said, hating that he had ended up having to speak to this thing.

  'You speak my language?' it asked him, seemingly surprised.

  'I speak a little bit.' he said, not wanting to be drawn into a conversation.

  'I am Mugrab.' said the woodsman. He beckoned to El-Vador to come over out of hiding and speak to him face to face.

  He hesitated, then strode forward and stood at some distance from the Orc.

  'Were you going to shoot me with that?' Mugrab asked, eyeing the bow as El-Vador came froward.

  'Yes, I was.'

  'Why would you want to shoot a simple farmer?' asked the Orc, more confused than scared.

  El-Vador grew increasingly uncomfortable the more he found out about his potential kill. 'You don't belong here, the land you farm is stolen.'

  The Orc shook his head. 'This land was won by right of conquest and was not being used by any of your people.'

  He was beginning to lose his patience with this chatty green-skinned creature. 'The right of conquest is no right.'

  'Then why were you going to shoot me? Was it not to take back this land for your people through conquest?' Mugrab replied. 'Must it come to bloodshed? Can we not live together?'

  El-Vador's hatred of the creatures bubbled up again. 'Live together?' he asked. 'Your people butchered mine in an unprovoked attack, you were the ones who started this bloodshed.' He found he had put the arrow onto the string and partially drawn it, sighting it on the Orc. 'I will be the one who ends it.'

  Mugrab offered him a smile. 'Then do it.'

  IV

  Questions started to rise then, my true helplessness had been exposed by the might of something beyond my power that I could not understand. I had been set a task that was not beyond the scope of my lust for vengeance but one I felt was undoubtedly beyond my capabilities. Perhaps if I had not been so hesitant in trusting the creature, things would have been different. I think naught of it, regrets would swallow me otherwise.

  The mount
ainous Elven lands were subjected to the worst of the winter season. One storm after another, and blizzards that piled the snow in thick drifts that left trees so covered in white their greenery all but disappeared. Hunting was hard as game was scarce, even scarcer with the addition of the Orcs. Winter was a bleak and torturous time of the year, the time when folk lived on what they had brought in during the harvest and hoped they could survive long enough to see spring dawn once more.

  For El-Vador and Cusband, winter was an even chancier season than for most others. With his father growing weaker than ever before, El-Vador had taken on all his labour. In spite of this their efforts had been undercut by the Orcs, who had been willing to spare wood for the Elves in exchange for less grain than Cusband had previously demanded. They had suffered together through hungry winters before, this looked like it could well be their last thanks to the green-skins.

  Despite the drifted snow, El-Vador went hunting whenever he could. Although he still refused to believe that the others would let Cusband starve, he wasn't willing to take the chance.

  Even with his cold-weather furs, he still shivered as he entered the woods. The icy weather seemed to bite at him remorselessly in an attempt to devour all his body heat.

  Not far from the settlement the encampment full of Goblins and Orcs had grown in size.

  By now, it seemed as much a fixture on the landscape as the settlement itself and its sprawling size seemed to represent an increasing amount of control that the Orcs held over El-Vador's people.

  Sentries stood guard outside the palisade as always, their previously sour gazes had turned into ones of neutral indifference now. El-Vador pretended not to notice this change, he didn't like the idea of being seen as irrelevant. He needed to act, and soon.

  His father hadn't been lying when he spoke of the scarcity of game in the forests, the influx in population combined with El-Vador's constant foraying and the winter climate had reduced the already meagre population significantly. He would be hard-pressed to find enough food for them to survive on but that wouldn't stop him from trying.