by J. L. Ficks
Four ugly, scar-faced Braznians emerged out of the brush, two on either flank. They were all clad in chainmail with leaves jammed into the links for camouflage. They carried bastard swords and kite shields. The shields shined so brightly the Dark Elf could see his face reflected in the polished brass. He saw no fear in their hearts like the brawlers he had encountered in Jile, only a brazen boldness as sharp as the edge of their swords. They surrounded him trading bloodthirsty bearded grins.
Shade heard that slithering again behind him, of scales pulling almost inaudibly, across the trodden dirt trail. He saw the smirking face of a Syssrah, a snake-man, in the reflection off one of the shields. The Syssrah raised a long spear. His slippery smirk snaked even farther up his creepy scaled cheeks. Syssrah looked like men, except they had the lower half of a snake. No legs, just horrible wriggling tails. The assassin’s skin crawled. He abhorred Syssrah above all other races.
The Syssrian bandit raised himself up on his tail. He nearly reached the Doelm’s height, but he did not strike. His disgusting long scaled body swayed in the shield’s reflection like a charmed snake. His sick pale yellow skin was clad in scaled bronze armor. He wore a headdress capped by a bronze viper. The Syssrah’s green lips parted and a humanlike, but forked tongue slid out. He emitted a slight hiss which squirmed down Shade’s collar and crawled down his back.
“You are passing on Lewd’s Highway,” the Elf said smoothly, his speech sweet and tart, “and anyone who trespasses on Lewd’s Highway must pay a toll.” He nooked another arrow to his curved Elvish longbow. He took aim at Shade’s head, but the corner of the Dark Elf’s eyes lingered on that disgusting Syssrah.
Shade blinked. He refocused one hundred percent in control again. He was aware of every creaking muscle, every heel digging into the dirt and even that meandering spear behind him. He pulled two of his concealed daggers out just a crack and beamed widely. Ah, his first test. “A toll?” he cut back, “The Sewer King must be worth less than a lick of dirt if he thinks he can cut coins from my purse.”
“How dare you insult the supreme warlord,” the Elven Highwayman spat back, “don’t you know that Warlord Lewd owns not only every brick in the Kurn sewers, but every kernel of dirt in all Karus Forest? You are most unwise to speak against the one who singlehandedly tamed the wilds of Karus Forest and brought the black crown of Kurn to bear upon his own brow.” He pulled his arrow back. All he had to do was release. Quaelinari were just as fast as their dark-skinned cousins.
“So high and mighty sits the king of piss and manure,” Shade grinned wider, “I nearly hesitate to knock him off so grand a pedestal.”
The men huffed. The Doelm growled and brandished his axe. The Syssrah emitted a soft rattling hiss. The Elf’s almond eyes shot wide open burning with uncooked shock and blistering anger.
The bowstring creaked as it pulled back.
“HOW DARE YOU!” the highwayman captain growled, “Lewd will pay extra well for that flapping tongue of yours. You should have exercised more discretion before wagging it before a pack of wolves!”
“No,” the assassin hissed low and cutting, “it is you who should have exercised more discretion!” He squinted hard and at long last his glowing yellow eyes stabbed through the shadows of his hood.
The highwaymen all hesitated. The Elf’s tan face drained of all color. He stared slack-jawed and bumbled awkwardly, “Just who do you think you are?”
“I am the last face you will ever know.” Shade raised his head. His hood fell back revealing his dark heritage. A Dark Elf!
The air filled with hisses and whispers. The name “Shade” was on the tip of every dry tongue. Fear swept over the brigands shrieking in their ears. Its icy grip seized hold of them like hosts of ghastly hands, squeezing the warmth out of their beating hearts. There was only one Dark Elf who walked the streets of Doljinaar…only one. Even the Doelm, the huge Doelm’s face, went white with fear.
“No…” the Elf whispered.
“I warn you again,” Shade said, his hands still under his cloak, “walk away. There’s no need to join your master in his grave!”
“You mean to kill Warlord Lewd? An impossible feat, even for you, Shade!” the Elf stammered, “Kill him!”
Shade unsheathed his daggers. In the split second before the highwayman captain could release his arrow, the assassin had already spun around. His first dagger sailed through the air. He caught the Elf in the neck. The Elven captain fell backward dead. The arrow fell harmlessly out of his lifeless fingers.
The other highwaymen hung back. They considered turning and fleeing for their lives. Their leader had been fast, but Shade had proven far faster. But the Doelm was too thick of skull, the Syssrah too much at the assassin’s exposed back to give up his make believe advantage and as for the four Braznians…they had not been broken of their daredevil fervor for danger. Fatal mistakes one and all. They charged him like a pack of goaded boars hurtling headlong into a wall of spears.
Shade whirled back around. The Syssrah lashed forward with his spear. The nimble assassin turned his shoulder and dodged the thrust with ease. The snake-man rose up again and struck. The Dark Elf turned his other shoulder cleanly aside, but stayed on the tips of his toes. He retrieved another dagger. Clash! Clash! He turned aside the punctual spear thrusts with his dagger.
The Braznians came in extra shield heavy. It seemed their reckless nature wasn’t entirely without prudence in the field of combat. He ducked the bastard sword of the first Braznian who dared take a swing at him. He slashed at the man’s shins. The Braznian cried out as a mixture of chain links and blood spattered the air. He crumbled to the ground groaning. He did not look so brave nursing his bleeding legs.
Shade blocked the slashes of two more incoming Braznians. He saw the Syssrah thrust his spear forward again in the reflection of a shield. He pulled off a kick jump in mid-air. The spear snapped right between his outstretched legs. He landed again. He caught another Braznian across the neck. His dagger came in so close contact he actually scattered sparks across the top rim of the kite shield. The man didn’t even realize he had been cut until the shock of death ghosted across his face. Shade watched in cold satisfaction as the fire faded out of his eyes.
The Doelm charged forward grunting, steaming.
The assassin kicked a Braznian hard in the shield.
The man tumbled backward into his kinsman.
Shade whirled back around. He could not risk leaving the Syssrah too long at his back. He just barely ducked the next spear thrust, but once again the Syssrah rose up again on his tail pulling too quickly away to counter. The assassin ground his teeth in frustration. ‘You elusive snake!’ he thought.
The snake-man tried to spear him again.
The huge Doelm had nearly reached him. He could feel the brute’s hot spurts of breath spatter the air. The assassin side-stepped two more thrusts and glanced aside the spearhead of yet another strike. The Syssrah rose up methodically on his tail, thrusting skillfully forward again and again. He struck as quickly as a snapping serpent. The Dark Elf was forced to dodge repeatedly. The snake-man’s tail pulled his torso back too high for even the trained assassin to get in a clean riposte.
Shade ducked under just as the Doelm’s massive axe sailed overhead. The Braznians sprawled to the ground. They had nearly lost their heads. The Doelm snarled at the nimble assassin. He swung again. He cut a juvenile tree right in half. The tree toppled. Shade dove out of the way. The Syssrah pulled back. The Braznians rolled to the side. The tree fell with a great crash.
Shade dashed up the tree, but the Doelm took another swing at him. He leapt the blade. He kicked the Doelm square in the jaw. The brute stumbled backward. The assassin spun around. The Syssrah struck again.
Shade leapt. He spun wildly and just missed another spear thrust. He hit the ground and rolled over the downed tree. He slipped the two Braznians who took more hacks at him. The Doelm charged again. The Syssrah raised his spear. Shade tried to slip away, but the Brazni
ans closed off the gap.
The Doelm hacked at Shade. The Syssrah thrust his spear again.
Shade grabbed a handful of dust and threw it in the Doelm’s face.
The Doelm stumbled backward and knocked into the Syssrah. The snake-man missed his mark. The left Braznian cried out. The spear glanced off his partner’s shield and thrust deeply in between them. It grazed his right shoulder and drew blood. He froze in shock. He stared down and rubbed the blood between his fingers. The other Braznian stopped in mid-battle. He looked knowingly at his companion.
The Syssrah cursed.
The Doelm wiped the dust out his eyes. He blinked and growled.
The lightly wounded Braznian doubled over. His eyes rolled up into his head and he foamed at the mouth. He spasmed and died. Syssrian spearheads were widely known to be tipped with poisons.
Shade seized the opportunity to pull up the last Braznian’s chainmail shirt. He drove a dagger deep into his side. The man moaned and fell forward. Shade wasn’t taking any chances. The assassin kicked the dying Braznian in the chest. The man fell backward and skewered himself on the Syssrah’s spear. He died before he suffered the ill effects of the poison. The shaft snapped. The Braznian hit the ground leaving the snake-man momentarily unarmed.
The Dark Elf lunged at the opening.
The Syssrah pulled backward and threw his twisting torso around.
Shade grazed the Syssrah across the left forearm, but the recoiling body hit him with a forceful smack. He reeled backward. He landed on his rump just in time to see the huge Doelm raise his axe over him.
The assassin rolled to the side. Doelms were not as slow as the largest races such as the hulking Minotaur or the fat Gorums. The Doelm swung the axe downward and got it stuck deep in the earth. Shade was about to strike when he noticed the Syssrah recovering out of the corner of his eye. The snake-man drew not one, but two additional spears out of a long snakeskin quiver strapped to his back, filled with spears.
The Doelm ripped his axe out of the ground.
Shade felt chunks of soil graze his face.
The Syssrah threw a spear and the Dark Elf ducked. It struck a tree and got deeply lodged in the trunk. The snake-man tossed his offhand spear up into the air. He caught it in his throwing hand. He let the second spear fly.
Shade handsprung out of the way. He reached his feet and threw a dagger. He caught the snake-man in the left shoulder at a chink in his armor. The Syssrah hissed in pain, but didn’t go down. He wrapped his slender fingers around the knife hilt and cried out. Shade watch in satisfaction as his foe slowly pulled the blade out, but he could not afford the time to gloat.
Shade turned just as the Doelm pounced on him. It had been a superhuman leap, covering over six solid feet of ground. The Doelm had come down with all the propelling force, rage and ferocity of a territorial bull gorilla. The brute swung his pole axe so hard he scarred the air. The assassin ducked again. The mighty blow sailed overhead. The Doelm broke out into a bloodthirsty delirium. He swung his huge axe in a maniacal Doelmish battle rampage.
Shade stumbled awkwardly, but managed to elude every swing. Chunks of bark flew through the air. The Doelm left deep gouges in the huge Karus Oaks and cut more adolescent trees in half. Trees toppled over. Both the assassin and the Syssrah scrambled out of the way. Crash! Old leaves wafted up into the air. Bits of bark and sticks stung his eyes. Crash! Crash!
Shade wiped his eyes and reached his feet again.
The Doelm swung widely. He left a small clumsy opening.
The Dark Elf stabbed forward when suddenly he sensed the Syssrah behind him again. He had to turn his blow. He missed his lethal mark and merely nicked the Doelm’s bulging shoulder. His dagger clattered to the ground far out of reach. He side-stepped another spear thrust and yet another. The snake-man wielded two additional spears and Shade did not have time to retrieve fresh blades.
The Doelm brought his battleaxe down in a huge double-handed hack. Shade just barely managed to back step far enough to elude the devastating blow. The axe cut deeply into the mud just a hair shy of the assassin’s big toe.
Shade glared at his two foes in annoyance. He did not ordinarily have this much trouble with any one Doelm or Syssrah. This pair had been well trained. They must have spent many years in their respective militaries before becoming deserters and brigands out west. The Doelm stood to his right. The brute yanked his axe out of the ground and turned to him. The Syssrah wavered to his left, propped up high on his tail, clutching his double spears and his creepy serpentine gaze awaiting the assassin’s next move.
Shade merely nodded his respect to his two foes, but that respect did not last long. He gestured with both hands in a come-hither motion. They charged. The Doelm came in much faster, his axe already wound back, but the Syssrah’s spears provided a greater reach advantage. The assassin did not go for his blades. He merely waited, goading them on with that boastful, all-knowing leer.
Shade leapt into the air as they finally reached him. He grabbed hold of the Syssrah’s left spear and set the point into the onrushing Doelm. He guided it deep into a slit in the Doelm’s leather cuirass. He heard a grisly sinking noise as the spear drove into the Doelm’s heaving chest. The Doelm squealed, but just as Shade had planned the stubborn brute carried his blow through. He caught the Syssrah deep in the side with his huge axe. The Doelm strength sliced through the bronze scale armor as easily as tin. The Syssrah groaned. His body keeled over to the side. He twitched, clinging barely to life.
Shade landed and hand-sprung backward. He watched from a short distance off.
The two highwaymen collapsed against each other. The Doelm was down on one knee. He shook with an unyielding rage. He yanked the spear out of his chest and threw it to the side. Yellowish foam dripped from his mouth as he shook with the quaking of a seizure and yet he refused to die. The Syssrah lay almost comatose. His slitted eyes popped back open. The snake-man sprung to life in one final backstabbing act. He drove his second spear deep into the other side of the Doelm’s chest. Then the light left his eyes and he died. The Doelm groaned one final time and he too passed away.
Shade listened to the scraping of bare branches in the forest for a few moments longer. He reflected on the challenge the pair had offered him and hoped that the Kurn underground itself would provide far worthier challenges. The sound of a body dragging over the trail broke his contemplation. He saw the last Braznian, the one he had wounded across the shins, trying to drag his bleeding legs down the path toward Kurn. He had left a long trail of blood in the mud behind him.
Shade stalked down the trail after the wounded man. The Braznian tried to pull himself desperately down the road, but he could not escape. The assassin caught up to him with ease. The man trembled hysterically. He looked up at Shade in a glossy half-glazed shock. The Dark Elf kicked the man swiftly across the face. He knocked the man flat out. He sheathed his blades. Let the man go crawling back to Warlord Lewd. Let him tell his master that death had arrived.
Shade huddled under the cover of thick bushes, trying to ignore the irritating prick of pine needles. He watched the guards on the east walls of Kurn go about their rounds. This section of wall was always left undermanned. The Old Thieves’ Trail, or Lewd’s Highway for a short time longer, happened to end here as well. It was still a one-hundred yard sprint across an open field and into the city. He spit in his hands and rubbed them together as he eyed the guards on the battlements.
The rumor that Kurn did not welcome those of less than reputable reputations was not entirely accurate. In truth, Kurn was filled with an oversupply of hypocrisy. The beating heart of Kurn was not in the lenience of its citizenry, but in the commerce amassed in its streets. And it would be precisely this quenchless flavor for wealth that would permit his entrance into the city.
Shade pulled his travel cloak more tightly about his body. He did not dare risk using Unseen form. The Kurn guards would be equipped with terramite helmets and the use of Shadow Magic would be a dead g
iveaway to his dark heritage. Better to appear to be an Elven or a human thief than a Dark Elf. He watched as the guards made their rounds. He waited for the top of the hour when the guards would set their backs to the watch and a patient lurker could make a safe sprint into the city.
In truth, Kurn did indeed welcome any mortal. The Shamites had grown too rich on the Black Markets to leave any paying patrons dead on the city outskirts. Even the guards had been bought by Shamite gold, just as long as they didn’t get sloppy. A superior officer would be forced to make an example of any soldier that was caught permitting the entrance of a criminal or a night mortal into the city. The guard would either have to kill the trespasser or face the punishment of the state.
Shade grinned in amusement. ‘It’s all so characteristically human.’ His eyes never left the guards. Then regular as clockwork the watch faced north and south. They waited thirty counts staring down the long walls of the city, but left a convenient hole in the watch. The assassin sprinted from the trees. He dashed madly for a tunnel closed off by all appearances by a sturdy iron sewer grate.
The sewer grate drained onto a ledge and down into the moat far below. He ran across a sturdy wood board laid out rather handily across the moat. He splashed through the shallow waters on the ledge. The waters running off the ledge were ankle deep at best. He reached the sewer grate and opened a postern gate fashioned quite mysteriously into the cross-bars. He slipped into a dim torch lit tunnel just as the guards turned on their next round.
“Ah, yes,” he laughed out loud, “it’s all so characteristically human…”