by Justin Wayne
Chapter Eight: “No invitation?”
Jiff neighed happily as they left the woods of Journ and made their way through the desolate town. Munching on an apple, he clopped along past where he had dropped Thom, who was still unconscious and snoring, and left the town in favor of the open plains. He shook his mane in gratitude.
As the little hamlet disappeared from sight behind them Outsider could feel a great weight lifted from his shoulders. Only now, noticing the difference, did he register the presence that had been following them. Dark elves, after generations in the Shadowverse among demons and other summoned entities, had developed sensitivity to other-worldly beings and could sense when they were around.
There really is something back there.
He shook the eerie feeling that something had been watching all day and ignored the lump of guilt that settled in his throat and made it hard to swallow. It was times like these that he regretted making the decisions the life of a bounty hunter demanded. But repressive as he was, he buried such feelings deep where they couldn’t hurt him.
Out of sight, out of mind.
He looked back and noticed that the frown Thom wore in his sleep had dissipated as well. His back was already scabbing over in the cold air and saved from much worse due to his thick coat. He turned back around when a glint of light whistled toward him, tearing him from his thoughts and into reality. He veered his course and pulled Jiff back, a spear thudding into the ground exactly where they would have been, and pulled the gray gelding around to face the oncoming threat.
A pair of riders rode toward him, one wielding an axe, the other a flail that swung overhead in an arc. With his acute elven vision, he saw the flail-wielder was an orc; large and a veteran in age and combat. The other appeared of similar build yet much taller with...he recoiled from it and had to blink a few times before looking again.
“What the hell?”
The skull-faced one took the lead of the two attackers and raised its wicked axe high with a battle cry that sounded like something from a nightmare. As it closed in, he could clearly see the empty eye sockets and bare boned head charred black.
As a learned bounty hunter, Outsider knew well that few things could make a fire hot enough to do such damage to bones as tough as an orc’s. His concoction was one of them. He also knew that fewer things could empower one to live through such.
What had at first seemed a chance raid now appeared to be a strike at revenge.
“What? No invitation?” he called as the distance between them closed rapidly.
“Come taste the steel of Cleave Rend!” it bellowed and brought the axe down on him as it passed. Outsider saw his reflection in the midnight blade and recognized it as a sentient weapon by the aura it emanated. The fact that he could feel it troubled him. He ducked his head to the side and dodged the swipe, but was taken by surprise when the oncomer threw the axe from the end of its swing, which carried by its momentum, completed its pendulum back into its other hand; spinning from one hand and around its back to the other for a follow up strike.
The flat of the blade caught him in the shoulder and pulled him from the horse as Cleave Rend finished its pass. He hit the ground rolling and came up to his feet without harm. He whistled for Jiff and ran toward the gelding only to be cut off by the flail-wielder. He dodged a wide swing of the heavy weapon, amazed by the strength of the old orc, and flicked his knife at him.
But the orc was no rookie and had anticipated the retaliatory strike. As such he had a wooden shield already in place on his off hand into which the knife sunk. He pulled the knife free and threw it back.
He had no knowledge of how to correctly throw a blade however and the nimble elf easily caught it. He turned for another shot when Cleave Rend returned for a second charge and swung so low that he could have split the grass if only an inch lower. Despite the force of the blow backed by the speed of the horse, Outsider was able to throw a knife in the crease of its arm and jump up to kick it through the elbow before being knocked aside.
He rolled once more to his feet and realized they would juggle fighting to wear him down. If he wanted to survive he would have to even the playing field and take down the horse.
Outsider leapt aside as Ulgvhen assaulted with the flail once more and gave him a wide berth, then came back to the center of the field as Cleave Rend returned for a third pass. The elf slid across the frozen grass beneath the orc’s horse, and retrieved the spear they had thrown. Then as he was about to be trampled, shoved it deep into the chest of the skull’s horse. It gave a cry and collapsed forward onto the spear which dug into the ground, propelling the horse over its head until it landed on its back, crushing its rider.
At this, Ulgvhen charged from behind at the elf and brought down his flail in a mighty swing that tore the mace from its chain. The mace hurtled off several hundred yards but the chain found its mark and blew the elf off his feet. The orc dismounted and ran to his brother, pulling the horse off him with a groan, and found Cleave Rend’s body bent double with his spine twisted and head lying against his shoulder.
The axe lay just out of reach.
“Brother?” he called as he laid him out flat on the ground. “Cleave Rend?” He turned his head and looked into where his eyes should be. “Uvrikh?”
Meanwhile, Outsider tried to catch his breath. He knew a few of his ribs were cracked and his shoulder had been popped out of place. Every time he tried to move it racked him with excruciating pains that left him sweating and shaking. Forcing himself to stand and biting his lip, he made it to his feet and drew another knife.
He was never one to lose an advantage even when hurt.
Using his good arm, he flicked it to his finger tips and threw it into Ulgvhen’s back with enough force to sink the blade to the hilt. The orc roared and leapt up in a rage, with its chain clinking along behind it. Within its eyes, Outsider could see the fury. An orange menace burned in the blackness of the iris like a smoldering coal. With a burst of speed Ulgvhen leapt forward with the chain whistling past him already out. Outsider rolled from its reach and slipped Darkbane from its sheath. The blade pierced the darkness of the orc’s eyes and shone in their reflection.
Then he covered the ground between them as quickly as possible to remove the chain’s reach from the equation. But the orc was ready. The veteran warrior spun his wrist and the chain wound up his arm to the shoulder so tightly only the elbow was exposed. Darkbane came down on the chain with a cascade of sparks only to be shied away. The bounty hunter’s cloak took a punch and pulled him down with its weight, but no bodily contact was made.
He hurriedly rolled onto the balls of his feet to evade a vicious stomp and sprang up with a roundhouse kick that caught the orc unaware, connecting with its jaw. It stunned Ulgvhen for only a second, but it was long enough. He clambered onto Ulgvhen’s back and holding onto his shoulders for support, stomped the throwing knife previously stuck into his shoulder through the thick muscle until the blade was buried.
Ulgvhen was unable to raise his chain-laden arm to defend himself, but still he fought. His other arm grasped Outsider by the cloak and threw him in a circular fashion into the dirt.
The elf rolled, hitting his knees painfully as he tried to slow himself. His arm rolled back into socket with a sickening click and relief flowed through him. Then he was on his feet again as he was rushed. But he was the armed one this time. He loosed his grip on the dagger and allowed Ulgvhen to tackle him. But instead of being driven away he gripped onto the wounded shoulder with one hand, digging his fingers into the wound, and stabbing low with the other.
The orc dropped to his knees and snarled as the blood oozed down his back and from the corner of his mouth. Outsider looked down on him. “Finish me off, demon!” He stared at the ground. “Let me die with honor. Like a true orc warrior.”
Ready to oblige, Outsider stepped forward with his dagger poised for a lethal strike. Then a chill crept down his spine as a specter passed by him. He backed away from the
orc and his eyes raked the field for the shadow. Then they locked onto the axe near the dead horse and its fallen rider that was glowing maliciously. The grass around the ominous weapon withered and turned black as if scorched.
Even Ulgvhen stared it in surprise. “What’s it doing?” He struggled to look back at Outsider who was deep in contemplation. “Answer me, murderer. I know the dark elves are versed in dark arts.”
At that Outsider looked down at the wounded fighter with contempt and stomped his face into the ground with the heel of his boot.
“And I know orcs are too dumb to understand anyway.” He turned from him and to the axe that was now shivering slightly as if cold. The body beside it convulsed. The black skull rose briefly. The elf watched in horror as the axe dragged itself through the grass to the grisly corpse and fitted itself within the gnarled fingers. Then in a flare of black flames, Cleave Rend was whole again and sat up, twisted his head back on correctly then one by one reset the broken bones.
For several moments only the popping of ligaments and cracking of ribs filled its mind. But it was quick to turn its attention to the one responsible.
“One such as yourself should be proud of what you have accomplished.” the demon-voice cooed. “As such, it is with full knowledge of your feats that you shall leave this world.” It stood and raised the axe high over head. Once again, Outsider was amazed at the once-orc’s immense size. “But fret not, for yours will be a quick end. I respect you. And so your death will be.”
“Is that right? Well I’m afraid I shall have to decline your offer. At least for the time being. You see, I have matters to attend to.” His eyes passed over the towering monstrosity and searched for Jiff. “Sorry for disappointing you.”
“I care not for your insignificant existence. Outside of the battlefield, you are nothing. So here you shall remain.” The threat hung in the air like smoke, unanswered and intangible. “Let us begin.”
The axe spun from his hand and split the air with a shrill shriek of steel as it was expertly deflected by Darkbane. But the sheer force of its whirling momentum knocked Outsider off his feet. With a spin of his lower torso in a windmill fashion he twirled onto his feet. He looked up and saw the axe was already back in its wielder’s hand.
“Coming back from the dead…nice trick.” Outsider mumbled under his breath. “My turn.” His last throwing knife, the other within Ulgvhen’s back, flicked into his hand with a backward grip and he stormed the resurrected monster with dual blades. He ducked low beneath a swing and stuck the dagger into its belly, rolled past another and slipped the knife between the plates of armor. Black blood sprayed from it and smeared across the blades, Darkbane’s, seemingly repellent, dripped clean.
But Cleave Rend didn’t seem to notice the wounds and shrugged them off as a mere inconvenience. It kicked at the elf and continued hewing away at his defenses. Hoping to tire out the little creature, it ignored any repercussions, and mindlessly pressed forward against him.
“You can’t hurt me, you pest. You are but a flea upon a dragon; unable to chew through the scales.” he jested and slammed the flat of the blade down in a parry, bending the knife.
Outsider looked at it and sighed.
“I am really running out of knives here.” He rolled against Cleave Rend and stuck the knife into its leg, then snapped the bent blade off into it. Even ignoring the pain, the undead orc found its leg incapable of bearing weight and collapsed to one knee.
But the axe wasn’t through yet. It continued swinging away and slowly making its way back toward its target.
Outsider was baffled. “I’ve seen some things in the Shadowverse that would make some men cry. But you,” he pointed to the stubborn fighter, “You are something else entirely.” And with that, he threw Darkbane into the skull where it broke clean through the cranium, leaving a gaping hole in one of the eye sockets. Cleave Rend keeled over and went motionless, having attained enough damage to need repairing.
The bounty hunter ran past it, not knowing what else to do, and retrieved Darkbane. He looked at the gore and brain matter spilling from the shattered skull and muttered thanks to the supernaturally clean blade as he slipped it back into its hidden sheath beneath his underarm.
He surveyed the little scene once more, watching as the axe began to glow, and reached out to pull it away from the corpse.
His sixth sense screamed at him.
“Perhaps not.” He jerked his hand away and instead yanked free the spear from the horse, and drove it through the skull again, pinning it to the ground as deep as he could manage. Ulgvhen stirred nearby, and he paused to watch him falter and continue sleeping.
Turning around to call Jiff, he noticed the gelding was nowhere to be found. He whistled a high note that seemed to be culled by the fierce northern winds. Twice more he called and twice more he was met with nothing. His eyes narrowed within his cowl.
“Thom.”
He turned to the fallen orc’s horse that was grazing in the distance, accustomed to battle. He called to it, sensing it was hungry, and offered it a ripe apple that shone in the sun. The glint caught its eye.
That’s right. Come on, boy.
Hesitantly it made its way to him, sniffed his hand, then the apple, then back to his hand, and crunched the apple out of his palm when it was satisfied no danger was present. It shook its mane as the stranger stroked it, than as if it had read its mind, scratched it behind the ear where it liked it.
“There you go, good boy.” He patted the dark brown mustang reassuringly then swung into the saddle slowly, his ribs aching terribly. Soothing the new horse, he made his way west to catch the thief and reclaim not only Jiff, but his stake on the bounty.