The Final Ring - Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Robyn jogged through the forest, slipping through the brush swiftly and quietly. Thanks to the bullywogs' magical elixir, she felt full of energy and it seemed she would never tire. The young ranger made good progress, stopping only to blaze an occasional trail mark on the side of trees. Before long the land sloped upward and the trees became fewer and further apart. Thinking this was an excellent opportunity to study the surrounding area, Robyn stopped at the base of one of the larger chula trees. She slipped off her pack and hid it next to her spear and short sword behind some bushes. Grasping one of the lower branches, she swung herself up and began to scale the mighty tree.

At first the ascent was easy, but as she neared the top, the branches thinned and she was forced to pick her way with care. As Robyn broke through the canopy of leaves, she blinked as her eyes adjusted to the bright sunlight. A light breeze cooled her brow and dried the sweat from her long climb. Robyn surveyed the vista before her; she noted the shape of this new territory as well as the types of trees she could see from her perch. In the distance she could see darker clouds forming to the north, confirming her suspicion that it would soon rain. The air was alive with the smells of blossoms and plants, as well as the cool taste of the impending rainstorm.

Just as she was about to begin her descent, a flash of brilliant white light caught her attention. She paused, her senses alert. There, there it was again! It appeared to be coming from one of the hills to the south, possibly a league or so away. While this appeared to be outside the area she was supposed to patrol, Robyn felt it was best to check on this odd event. She quickly reached the bottom of tree.

Reclaiming her belongings, she looked to the sun to get her bearing and then set off to investigate the strange lights.

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Robyn moved swiftly at first, then slowed as she drew near. Moving carefully to minimize any sound of her passage, she began to search for clues to this sudden mystery. The stillness of the forest was her first sign that something was amiss. Soon, she detected the odor of fresh blood in the air. With sudden misgivings about coming alone, the young ranger crept through the brush, her senses alert for any signs of danger. The hair on the back of her neck stood up as she skirted a small clearing near the apex of one of the hills.

Death. The smell never changes, she thought. The pungent odor brought back memories of the night she had lost her mother to a poisoned arrow during a goblin attack.

Scorch marks on several of the trees bordering the clearing, as well as burned grass gave evidence of some type of magical exchange. Waiting patiently, using her senses to detect any attackers, Robyn crouched behind a laurel bush. When she was sure it was safe, she stepped into the clearing, her spear poised to defend her from attack. Several battered shields lay on the ground, bearing the crest of the kingdom of Wiltzford. The first body she examined was a human, wearing the uniform of a soldier from that great northern kingdom. He was lying on his back with several feathered shafts protruding from his chest. Looking closely at the arrows, Robyn was surprised at the markings along the shaft.

"Elves?" she hissed quietly.

Robyn furrowed her brow in confusion. While the relationship between the elves and Wiltzford could not honestly be called friendly, they were at least peaceful. Yet something about this body looked wrong. But she could not determine what was amiss. Two other human corpses could be seen, both riddled with elven arrows. At the far end of the clearing, four more bodies lay slumped on the ground. Pools of dark, drying blood spread onto the grass below them. As the ranger crept closer, she could see by the clothing and armor that these were elves. Upon seeing the pale blue eyes staring lifelessly into the sky and the tips of pointed ears poking from under golden hair, she knew something was terribly wrong.

Humans and elves fighting, it doesn't make sense?

The young woman brushed her brown hair over one ear as she pondered what this meant.

I have to tell Dingoo. This can't be good. It's been nearly a hundred years since the last elf wars.

Bending down, she began to examine the body of one of the elves. Noting the clan marks on the armor and swords, she whistled in amazement.

Dragon clan! What is a party of elves from the royal family doing this far from elven territory without a proper escort?

Carefully not to touch any of the jewelry the fallen warriors were wearing, she began to search for more clues. Two of the bodies bore crest stones of incredible beauty, but she knew better than to disturb them. Most elven treasure was protected by powerful magic curses to discourage theft. These spells often lingered even after the death of the owner, making corpse-robbing of elven dead very rare. Even the thieving kobolds were hesitant to disturb elven dead; such was the power of these enchantments.

As she finished examining the last body, Robyn was shocked when the corpse reached up and grabbed her hand.

"Gods protect!" Stifling her cry of shock and surprise, she whipped out her short sword and pulled away from the weak grip.

"Pleeease... heeelp..." the elven warrior gasped weakly.

Feeling ashamed that she had mistaken him for dead, Robyn sheathed her sword and knelt beside the dying elf. Bright red blood bubbled from his lips and out of the gaping gash across his ribs.

"Save your strength, I'll get help," she said as she began to remove her pack. "Let me bind that wound first."

"No time... they... took the Princess..." The elf coughed, and a splatter of blood seeped from his mouth.

"Who, the soldiers from Wiltzford? What princess? Why were you this far from the elven lands?" Questions raced through Robyn's mind.

"No soldiers... Orcs.... Princess Delia... was..." He coughed again. "...tracking unicorn... The chase led here... Was a trap." More blood ran from the elf's mouth and his voice was growing weaker by the minute.

"Orcs, but the bodies I see here are...?"

"Orcs!" he hissed in a painful voice. "You must ...save her...." The warrior coughed and shook violently as if suddenly chilled.

Robyn could see the feeble spark of life slowly fading from his eyes. Tenderly, she clasped his hands in hers and looked into his eyes.

He smiled as he saw the determination there. Then, with a final shudder, he grew still and cold.

Standing, Robyn looked at the human bodies again.

"Of course, no blood!"

While there were bloodstains around the arrow wounds, missing were the pools of blood underneath the bodies. The human bodies must have been placed here to obscure the truth. A clever deception, laying the blame on the humans.

She began to search around the clearing, in ever-widening circles. Finally, several broken branches marked the beginning of a faint trail. The orcs had been careful to leave little trace of their passing but the ranger's sharp eyes and keen skills were not fooled.

Unicorns. At least it explains how they got this far. 

An elven princess who could claim a unicorn as a mount would win high favor with the other elven nobles. She would have pursued one to the ends of the earth if she thought she stood a chance to win the loyalty of one of the rare beasts.

Turning to head back to the ranger compound, Robyn was dismayed to see how dark the sky had become. Obviously, rain was on the way. It would be afternoon tomorrow before she reached home, and even that meant traveling all night. By then, rain would have destroyed the faint trail that led to the kidnapped princess. She hesitated, unsure of what to do next. Tracking a party of orcs could be tricky, especially ones as unusually clever as these. On the other hand, there was a good chance that the trail the creatures had left would be obliterated by the coming storm. By the time she reached the ranger compound and returned, all hope of finding and rescuing the elven princess might be lost. As she stood pondering her choices, a distant rumble of thunder echoed through the forest.

That decides it. I'll follow the trail for as far as I can, then report back.

Moving quietly, she began to follow the trail the marauders had left.

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Occasionally she would stop and blaze a trail mark on passing trees to serve as waypoints for her return. The orcs apparently had set out for some rendezvous to the southwest, nearer to the badlands. As Robyn followed, the skies continued to darken and thunder became more frequent. It was near nightfall when the first drops of rain began to fall.

I need to rest anyway. I can wait for a bit and see if I can pick up the trail. If not, I need to head back. She panted while leaning wearily against the bole of a tree. How many leagues did I cover? I must be near the border of badlands by now?

CRACK! The sound of a whip came through the twilight, followed by a cry of pain.

Suddenly alert, Robyn carefully edged toward the sound. Careful to remain hidden, she crouched behind some small boulders and peered down the darkening trail. Through the rain-filled gloom, she could see four orcs, working their way up the trail towards her. Two of them carried shields and swords, while the next was armed with a large two-handed ax. The final orc was a strange sight, lumpy and misshapen, even for an orc. It wielded no weapons other than a whip, and was using it to drive the other three on. Listening from her hiding place, she could make out the voice of the whip-wielder spurring the others on.

"Hurry you miserable worms, Blath Mord wanted the trail scouted all the way back to Grissom's Hollow."

"But Tismmon, the rain hide our tracks, it cold and wet. Let's go back?" whined the ax bearer.

"I follow orders, Jarthmas, and you will too!" Tismmon said threateningly, holding up the whip to enforce his authority.

"You a bung-licker, little one. Blath Mord not always favor you, then you pay," one of the sword wielders muttered venomously. Although he clearly did not care for the smaller orc, he moved to carry out his orders.

Blath Mord? Sounds like orcish for White Shade? A clan name perhaps? Robyn wondered from behind the rocks.

Just then the weather betrayed her. A bright flash of lightning filled the sky behind her. In the luminous strobe, her shadow was clearly visible on the ground beside the boulders. The small orc happened to spot it and immediately sprang into action.

"Elf, elf!!" he cried, pointing at her hiding place.

The three warrior orcs began to advance, screaming battle cries.

"Oh shit!"

Stepping from behind the boulders, the ranger choose her target. Her arm drew back, then snapped forward, hurling her spear at the advancing orcs. The projectile sped through the air, ending its flight by embedding itself in the chest of the ax bearer. Without a word, he dropped his ax and pitched onto his back. Unsheathing her sword and dagger, she moved to attack to the remaining two fighters.

At least the little guy is staying out of it, she thought, seeing Tismmon's reluctance for battle. Can't let them get me between them.

She advanced, stopping at a narrow spot in the trail with her back to a tree. Raising her sword high, she prepared to meet their attack. The orcs smiled as they charged, happy with the apparent odds. As they approached, Robyn suddenly flung her dagger at the closest orc, aiming below the rim of his shield. He grunted in pain, and looked down at the hilt of the dagger protruding from his ample gut.

"Ahhhhhh, elf bitch!!" he cried as he dropped to his knees.

With one orc remaining, Robyn knew she finally stood a chance of surviving this encounter. While the massive orc was stronger, she was quicker and had more endurance. As long as she could stay out of the reach of his longer sword, the weight of his shield and heavier armor would win the battle for her. No longer worrying about being attacked from behind, she stepped away from the tree and circled to her right.

"Pilfon kill you!" the orc snarled in a spray of spittle. Spinning on the balls of his feet, he delivered a vicious overhand blow with his sword, intent on splitting her skull.

Robyn leapt to one side, deflecting the blow with her short sword. Sparks flew where the heavier orcish blade met her dwarfish steel. The force of the blow nearly knocked her blade from her grasp. The orc's momentum spun him further around, bringing her face to face with her opponent. Another stroke of lightning illuminated the two fighters' faces to each other.

Pilfon's beady eyes were wide with surprise as he gazed on the ranger's features.

"You no elf, you human!" he cried with a tone that sounded almost disappointed.

"Yes, and you're no goblin. But you bleed just the same, what difference does it make?" Robyn asked through clenched teeth.

"A big difference. Human have no defense against magic," Tissmon cried gleefully.

Robyn realized the smaller orc must be a shaman of some kind, capable of casting minor spells. Desperately, she tried to reach the trees where she could try to hide from the spell caster's magic.

The larger orc seemed to sense her strategy and moved to cut her off.

Suddenly, she heard Tissmon begin an arcane chant. She struggled to beat back the orc warrior when suddenly the shaman's voice cried out a magical note filled with eldritch power. Without warning her limbs suddenly froze in place, rendering her immobile. She struggled wildly, pitting her will against the orc's evil magic. Already she could feel the hold over her weaken. Her moment of triumph was short-lived however, as she watched Pilfon swing his blade towards her unmoving and defenseless head.

The spell failed a moment before the orc's sword struck her head from her shoulders. Robyn ducked, attempting to evade his blow. The heavy orc tried to correct his swing when his target suddenly sprung to life. Neither Robyn nor Pilfon were successful. The result was the flat of the orc's sword colliding with her temple. The young girl cried out briefly as an explosion of color and pain blossomed in her head. Darkness followed quickly and she remembered no more.

Continued in Chapter 4

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