Andre Godsond - Blood of Sword and Heart

[Minime]

ACT 1: The trap

Chapter 1
The shattering came as quick as the morning rays of the sun touch the pale skin of a sleeping man. But this tale is not about the known event, which changed the face of Azeroth, for it is about the battle-mage who dare spit death in the face..

"I'll tell ye', the King ain' got all of his brains, th-"
"Oh, and I forgot a person has several brains."
".. oi' shut up ye' swineherd!"
The men argued as they had their patrol through the thick and dense woods of the northern lands of the Eastern Kingdoms. On both sides of the paved road, a old and ruined fence stretched all the way towards a small and abandoned house with a graveyard across the path. Leather and rusty mail over their skin, with a overused plate chest. A leather belt to hold it all together with the insignia of the Grand Alliance. The shortest had next to the Alliance insignia a small badge with the royal crest of Stromgarde. All three of them had long halberds and a steel shortsword tied on their belt.

"Blast 'et, where's the sorcerer? DIdn' he say he'll be dancin' 'ere for us?"
One of the guards asked, as he stopped in the middle of a crossroad. He was the only one 'normal' in height. Not too small not too tall. His face was covered with a scar, going from his forehead down to his jaw. His name was complicated, so they called him "Scar".
The trees formed a natural cover, both for the light and sun which explained the dark atmosphere.
"I hate 'em pine trees, loo' at the size of 'em."
Muttered the shortest of the three, while supporting himself on the halberd, twice the size of the guard. His eyes were always on the constant lookout for the sorcerer.

And so it was, that the three waited for a few minutes, the shortest and the tallest both talking a few feet to the left from the middle and the other guard, 'Scar'. The tallest with his pipe in the right corner of the mouth, both talking about how to approach an Elf and shove her up the jewels, or where to buy the best tobacco in town. 'Scar' stood there in the middle, his halberd pointed at the bush before him, with his left eyebrow risen and eagle eyes peering at it. Some sweat ran down his forehead and with a nervous voice he responded.
"Lets piss of I say. Cun' trust this absurd silence!"
Just as he finished his sentence, the bush shook and all three of the guards turned their attention at it. The tallest throwing away his pipe and grabbing the halberd, the shortest pulling his sword and 'Scar' stepped two steps backwards.
"Who's there.. s-show yourself!" Shouted the shortest.
"Get out b'fore we pike ye' with our halberds!" Responded the tallest to support the sentence.
"I say th-" As 'Scar' wanted to add, he was interrupted by a man, being thrown from the bush with force who then crushed upon 'Scar'. Both of them being pushed to the ground, only the man from the bush continued to move, shaking like a fish taken from the water.

'Scar' only turned his head as the man burned with horrific cries before him and the other two guards. As if someone planted fire inside him. With a few deep breaths of the two guards to calm themselves, out of the bush there came a man. Dressed in leather, mail and plate. Down his shoulders two stripes of parchment with varius incantations hang, a fine ornamented sword around his belt which constantly hit the left leg while he walked. He moved as the breeze blew through the woods, waving his long hair in different directions behind him, the smoke of the burned man spreading and soon it would stop.
The man cleared his throat, pulled his right glove up, so his fingers reached the end. With a calm and deep voice with almost no emotions he said.
"You can either remain here and examine the assassin, who stalked your group since you entered the woods, or help me finish the objective you and I have been assigned to. Your choice.. but hurry."
"Wh-who are you?" Stuttered 'Scar', while picking himself up with the support of his halberd.
"M-Must be the sorcerer at the look o-" whispered the shortest to the tallest ten feet away while staring at him. The man nodded with his head once and clearly.
"Yes, I am the sorcerer. You were sent to assist me, were you not? I see the badge of Stromgarde on your belt and I see the violet plum feather on your helmet, scared man."
The man crossed his arms on his chest, spiting some leaves on the ground which must've came by his actions while behind the bush and in the woods.
"Now, off we go. Hop, hop, time is of an essence and we're loosing it."
"O-Of course" said 'Scar', turning around at the two others "Wha' ye' waitin' for. Get on moving!"

The men swallowed their spit, the shortest shook his head in disappointment at the burned remains left behind of the man. The others soon joined the sorcerer as he made a way through the dense road-bush.
"So, where are we headed sorcerer?" Asked the tallest, while turning his head once or twice to look for the shortest, giving him a hand signal to join them soon. The shortest nodded, picking up the pipe which was thrown on the ground and with a sprint joined the group.
"Deeper into the woods for the start. While the Forsaken and the Horde focus on."
The sorcerer takes a deep breath, pulling on his left shoulder to calibrate it so it doesn't rattle.
"The Alliance made a forward camp deeper in the woods, on the left flank of the Forsaken controlled part of Andorhal."
"So, we are to reinforce their numbers?"
"Precisely. If the men are prepared-" Tightens his belt for two more holes, as it goes over his chest and holds his cloak together with some other equipment. Camping one it seems.
"-, and they will be. We shall stage an assault to capture the docks and so ensure the Alliance forces to be able to charge at the Forsaken and reclaim the southern part of Andorhal."
The sorcerer then continued to give a detailed description of the objective, while reordering his equipment. His small pouch with a few bottles, a thick book chained on his belt on the middle. Enough for him not loosing it yet still able to quickly open and read an incantation. His enchanted sword a few times reflected the rays of the sun, a few times even absorbed. That was most entertained for the shortest guard who stared at it with an interest.
"Sir. If I may be bold to ask.. why do you wear all this equipment if you're a mage?"
"Because I am no mage. I'm a Battle-Mage." So the man ended his sentence while with one hand supported, jumped across the cut down tree.


Chapter 2
It was almost midday, when the Battle-mage and the three guards arrived at the camp. A mile before they arrived they heard battle shouts and a thick amount of smoke rising. Now they were certain as they saw the ruined camp. Littered with bodies all across, the Command tent raised to the ground. Only the flag of the Alliance remained intact, mostly because of its high place.
"By the light. W-Who be able tha' do this?"
The horrific expression of 'Scar' was on his face. Covering the large scar as he stared at the dead men. Not only were they dead, but the green bubbles on their body which spited acid gas into the air and the many desecrated bodies, who's chest were torn open and the flesh was spread across. Supported the horrific feeling of the place. All three guards shook, their knees trembling, the tallest and the shortest went down into the camp to inspect the dead. The shortest kneeled before a knight who had no signs of corruption or poison.
"Just look at 'is." Said the tallest while strolling around with small steps.
"Hmph. Maybeh' I'll take tha'. They dun' need 'em." Swallowed his spit as he took off the plate chest of the knight. Even if they were engrossed by the dead who were spread around like flies over the dung, they quickly turned into scavanging vulters, inspecting what's best to take.

The sorcerer shook his head in disappointment, turned his head up at the autumn tree. Which leaves have already fallen down a month ago, now the leaves were exchanged by a thick group of black crows. One of them, which caught the attention of the battle-mage was the oldest. With grey feathers and a bleached beak it fell down the tree with a rush, only to land at the knights topless chest. The shortest guard jumped backwards as it landed and started to tear the flesh off.
"Woah" Stupid son of a-"
The shortest hurled the chest plate next to the corpse to scare it off. But it didn't move, neither did it show any reaction. All until it then stopped eating and slowly slide down the corpse. With a green gas coming from the mouth.
"Don't touch the corpses. They're corrupted with the plague." Shouted the battle-mage, even him slowly descending down into the camp, with crossed arms on his back. He moved rather fast, cleared a path through the mess with his foot as he kicked away any mace, sword or shield laying before him.

The time slowly passed by, where once the dead were, only their remains. Weapons and a few arms lay. All of their bodies on a burning pile, by the order of the battle-mage to get rid of the infected bodies. Him himself was siting on a broken barrel before the tent, now risen up and supported with ropes they found around. Before the battle-mage, there was a cozy fire burning, on the right and left the shortest and the tallest. Just across the fire and the battle-mage, 'Scar' sat. With his sword in hand, pounding about what could've happened. There was no exchange of words for a good while, enough for the mage to sharpen and clean his sword intensivly. The tallest stood up while first giving a signal to the shortest with a nod, he cleared his throat and looked at the mage.
"You there, sorcerer."
"Battle-mage if you'd please. I'm not part of those scribes who live all day in their libraries studying pixies." Responded the mage with a grumpy voice and no eye contact. He knew what followed.
"I dun' care. We've been 'ere scratchin' our balls off!"
".. yea'. Wha' yer' plans?" Interrupted the shortest as he took the lead.
"If we dun' go at 'em now. We'll di-" The mage rammed his sword into the ground, stood violently as he pointed his finger at the man. With an angry voice and gesture.
"THEN GO! Go on and attack them if you want. But I tell you, you'll join the dead you see here. Worse even, you will join THEM. We sit here idle because I don't have a ploughing glimpse of an idea how to accomplish something, not even with twenty of us we were certain." He stopped his speech. with narrowed eyes, grinding his teeth to further improve his intimidation.
"Talk of me, think of me what you dare will. But bloody obey my commands and not only will you be happy and live, enough for you to get home and plough your wife a hundred times.. but you'll spare me this bloody and sensless argue!" The mage spat on the ground, as he stepped froth towards the tallest, looking him directly in the eyes.
"Understand?"
"I-I.. y-yes sir." Swallowed the tallest, while trying to have no direct eye contact.
The mage turned around, and slowly went towards the entry of the tent again. Scratching his burnt mark on his right arm. Two arrows, an eagle inside a circle. While the shortest leaned his head to the left and stood, the tallest nodded twice with assurance, took his sword out of the scabbard and wanted to strike at the mage. 'Scar' took hold of his sword arm in the last moment, pushing him but a bit away, WOSH an arrow pierced the eye of the tallest guard. If 'Scar' wouldn't have pushed him away, the arrow would surely pierce the mage. His body hit the ground and fell directly on the fire. 'Scar' rolled to the left, trying to grab his shield to block off the arrows.
"She- take cover!"
The shortest of the guards jumped forth, behind the mage, who before crossed his fingers in both hands to the shield incantation. Behold, a magical shield appeared, which deflected the arrows like glass deflects water. The arrows continued to flew around, 'Scar' shielded two of them, but the third hit him in the foot.
Shouts from the woods were heard, spreading across the camp in an echo, the location or number of the attackers unknown. The shortest had luck for he jumped across the fire when the tallest fell down, standing behind the mage, in cover.
"Blast them. Stand behind!" Shouted the mage while holding the shield, as the shortest wanted to help 'Scar'.
"B-Bu-"
"Stand back. There's no aid for the two!"

The shield held back the rain of arrows for a long time. Then after a few minutes it stopped, silence broke in and no shout, no arrow or a move of shadow was seen or heard.The mage blinked twice, lowering himself to grab hold of his sword. The incantation was canceled.
"Stand up, but beware. I don't believe it's the last we've seen of them."
"W-Who could do this? D-Do you t-think t'was the undead?" Stuttered the guard with a low and cowardly voice. He was still shaking, bend on both his knees as he stared into the distance. The mage in the other hand, took a stroll over to 'Scar' to inspect if he still lives, or at least see the arrow and try to recognize who uses such. He walked past the tallest, who was lying burnt where once the fire was. With a small jump across the rubble of weapons and armor, he kneeled before 'Scar'. With a low voice and closed eyes he mumbled.
"Go in peace, Aler'hmei adan." Closing the eyes of 'Scar', as he was dead. There was no pulse or any other sign of his heart beating for the mage. Taking a firm grip over the arrow with both hands, he pulled it out, stopping the flow of blood with a rug, pushed into the mail armor.

While the mage was inspecting the arrow, the shortest stood up, taking the first sword he saw lying on the ground. Crawling on all four towards his friend, the tallest one who was lying burnt on the fireplace.
"A-Are you alright chap? H-Ho.. don't play with me l-lad. I know y-you're alright." The shortest talked with the corpse, he couldn't accept or didn't wanted that his childhood friend, with whom he grew up, died before his eyes. Crying and shedding his tears on the corpse, it did not took long before he stood up quickly. The sword pointed before him as he inspected the area around with his eyes. In the distance, he saw a shadow moving and heard a few branches crack. Of course the mage made quite a rumble and rattle with the arrow. The guard blinked twice, slowly walking backwards.
"Hmm, I don't know who uses this arrow. It's cruelly made, adorned with some unknown poison, it isn't Elven Bloomblusum, it isn't the Trollish snake elixir and it isn't the Forsaken spider icho- huh, where's the guard?" The mage talked to himself, turning his head with a suprissed look on his face as the guard vanished. He blinked twice and shrugged to himself, turning his head back upon the arrow.
"Where was I.. oh yes. The arrow c- ugh!" A club or something of a sturdy and solid object hit the mage across the head. He fell down next to 'Scar', slowly he saw nothing then it was black. A whisper, a muffed scream was all he heard.

"Wake up whoreson! Don't believe we will drag you over the mountains.. you hear me dog?"
A bucket of water is thrown over the mage. First the cold water, then the bucket itself. He shudders, shaking himself for a moment by the shock. Bound by a thick rope around the tree, he can barely move and the linen sack over his head makes it even harder for him to breath and see. He blinks twice, staring through the sack which only a shadow of a person he can see.
"Ane'su dalan'ali rei Sha'tur."
Shouted the shadowy person that the mage saw through the sack, standing before him. More shadowy persons appeared, one of them took the sack off, throwing it on the pierced corpse with several arrows. It was the corpse of the shortest guard, now used to feed two blood hounds.
"Look, look, look. The great and famous Andre Godsond. What a pleasure to meet you, murderer!"
Bowed the Elf, who then kicked the battle-mage, Andre Godsond in the stomach. Biting his lower lip because of the pain, quickly looking his capturer in the face.
"Oh, don't worry about your friend. We've taken care of him.. as will we about you. Wait.. you don't remember Andre? C'mon, think harder, how about I say.. Serinas? Or even better. Death!"
The Elf laughed, making a gesture with his left hand for his men to put the sack over his head.

In the meantime, back in the camp. A trader past through, salvaging what he could until he stumbled across the body of 'Scar'. Taking a closer look, there was no body there anymore. Only the empty shell of plate armor, and where there once was the corpse of a green ranger, a naked Elf lied. The trader turned around to put the armor on his cart, as he saw a man with long hairs in the distance. Standing on the ridge as the sun shined him from the front. Only the silluete of his body, the shadow was seen, and even that vanished as the person jumped down and ran into the woods with his bow.

[Minime]

Reserved for more posts baby...

[shadowdragon1925]

You got quite an epic intelect and imagination men!
keep it up cause i love your stories dude