El-Vador's Travels (16 page)

The
broken pieces of mirror littered the walls of the sanctum, throwing
Sarvacts' ravaged features back at him and serving as a constant
reminder of what he had become. He cared no longer about the chill
that his icy domain exuded, his mind bent fully upon this one task
and his body but an unfeeling tool to execute his plans.

He
was alone here with the corpses of his enemies, both the beginning
and the end of his plans. Little need had he of company from his
fellow Orcs, sufficient as he was with his minions.

They
did not think or feel beyond what he told them to, nor did they
require much sustenance in order to continue applying his will. They
were slaves forever in servitude to his power and wished nothing more
than to carry out his goals.

Sarvacts
smiled to himself, it wouldn't be long now. The Elf would come and he
would suffer the consequences, drawn to him like the rodent prey that
he occasionally feasted upon. His laughter rose now and the sound
echoed through the chamber, bouncing from the chill surfaces and
carried out into the snowy wastes he now called home.

They
shuffled mindlessly through the corridors of the abandoned structure,
an army of his own creation. Orcs with the unfortunate chance of
perishing under his command and Elves with the foolishness to stand
against him. Their weapons were stilled now, they fought not under
the dominion of Sarvacts. Through what was left of their minds
Sarvacts divined a great many things of his enemy.

He
walked deeper into the bowels of this great fortress and a scant
warmth touched his bones. He was a creature of purpose and death and
surrounded himself with corpses. The stench of death had long stopped
holding sway over his senses.

Sarvacts
strode into the depths of his domain, his Orcish eyes unaffected by
the dark. Soon he would set his final plan in motion and bring an end
to this minor setback.

He
reached a larger cave within the caverns that lay underneath the main
structure, a moment he had waited for had arrived.

'Come
forth, your time of service is at hand.' he commanded. His voice
echoed through the chamber, it did not greet silence though.

A
stirring in the darkness brought forth his greatest creation. There
came a shuffling of feet as the figures came out to greet him. The
chill air wrapped itself over Sarvacts, he knew that it wasn't from
the cold that this sensation arrived.

They
drew closer now, forming a circle around Sarvacts without surrounding
him.

'At
last, our time has arrived.'

No
answer from his assembled forces was forthcoming, not one had breath
to draw.

'Who
am I?' Sarvacts asked them.

'You
are our master, you hold dominion over us all.' they replied as one.

'Who
among you knows of the Elf called El-Vador?'

'All
of us know.' came the familiar chorus. Sarvacts had taken some time
discovering which of his forces had already seen the boy.

'Attend
to my words closely, I shall not repeat them.'

They
shuffled closer to him then, as if to ensure that they would not miss
what he was about to say.

Sarvacts
opened his palm and an orb of light danced upon it, the yellow light
fought the gloom and kept the creatures from advancing any closer.
Though he was their master it always paid to be cautious, his
paranoia had saved him on many occasions.

'Why
did my previous agents fail to lead El-Vador to my domain?'

An
eerie humming rose from the bodies in concerto. 'El-Vador was wary of
your forces and shot them.'

'He
shot them? Arrows do not extinguish my power over your bodies.
Explain how this is possible.'

The
voices continued as one. 'Your agents attempted to waylay the Elf and
were shot at, when they retreated to lead him to your domain
something else happened. A struggle ensued. Your men died.'

'How
can you say that something else happened without specifying what it
was?' Sarvacts asked, his temper starting to get the better of him.
'Are you not omniscient with regards to the actions of said Elf? How
then can you not perceive what happened to prevent my agents from
succeeding in their task?'

'We
see all that this Elf does.' the creatures replied. 'This one act
eludes us still. We have no further explanation, El-Vador yet lives.'

'Then
I shall just have to send further agents to get the task completed.'

The
small orb on his hand vanished as Sarvacts glared at it, making his
way to the chamber exit. 'Out of my way!' he growled, shouldering his
way past the circle of figures. 'Go back to your darkened corners and
think over that which you have missed.'

As
he stalked angrily from the cavern, the creatures began their tired
shambling back to the edges of their prison. All but one.

In
the darkness, unmoving, stood what was once an Elven woman known as
Phaedra. She stood alone, unmoving and did not retreat into the
depths of the cavern.

Sarvacts
had shoved his way past her in anger, his touch had broken whatever
hold he had previously kept upon her without his knowledge.

It
slowly dawned upon Phaedra that she could now do whatever she wanted.
Even escape.

The
others had returned to the depths of their dwelling, but Phaedra felt
no compulsion to do so. She needed to leave this foul place, to undo
what had been done to her. Could she really just leave the chamber
and return to the world she once knew? How had such a simple touch
broken the spell?

That
was when she remembered how Sarvacts always kept them at a distance,
it was fear of their touch undoing the spell that had caused it.

No,
Phaedra thought to herself. The spell was not entirely undone, she
was still trapped in this hideous form and would be hounded wherever
she went.

Whatever
else might be, she was still a creature to be reviled, not dead and
not really alive. She had been held in this state by this monstrous
Orc for an unknown length of time. She had no doubt that everyone she
once knew had been slain in their conquest of her lands. She had been
denied her rightful place among them, and she wished for nothing as
much as to join them in eternal slumber.

What
could she do now? She could not end herself for fear of not joining
her kin and should she demand that Sarvacts destroy her he would
simply restore his control over her once more.

Phaedra
searched her memories, could she free the rest of her kin as she had
been freed herself? What else was there left to do in this realm
before passing into the next? The answer swam up through the depths
of her mind, the very thing that Sarvacts feared most.

The
point of her previous focus under the Orc also potentially held her
release, along with the release of the others in this cavern.

She
knew what she must do now. She must find the one known as El-Vador.

El-Vador
had slowly tracked his way through the mountains, the cold and jagged
teeth that separated the Elven lands from others. He carried a sword
in his grip and his keen eyes scanned the horizon for further
trouble. A bow was slung across his back which he used for hunting
game and keeping himself fed. Compared to the scarcity of the
woodland creatures in his former home there was a veritable bounty
for him to live off on his way down from the peaks.

He
shivered at the memory. It had been unnatural, those creatures that
had attacked him before, and he had seen enough of that from his last
encounter with the beast from the cavern. The voice had been silent
regarding the attack, apparently it hadn't been the creature's doing.

It
would undoubtedly be considered inhospitable in these parts by many,
to El-Vador it seemed a perpetual summer. Though it was not warm
enough to discard his furs to ward off the chill, he no longer
struggled through the cold nights. In spite of this he slept lightly,
wary of a further attack from the same shambling forces of before.

It
was no easy journey on such light sleep, he had little choice in the
matter though. Heading north to discover what was left of his people
seemed defeatist to him, his task of destroying every Orc that lived
was the only appropriate response after they had attempted to do much
the same to his kin. The wolves in these southern regions troubled
him not, they seemed well-fed and less inclined to attack large prey
when there was an abundance of smaller quarry about.

El-Vador's
keen gaze travelled across the horizon, he knew that the Orcs lay
south of here in great burrows that they called home. He had no idea
how far away they were or if he would encounter any civilisation on
the way. If he need suffer the elements until he reached his
destination then so be it, the voice that plagued him would
undoubtedly provide a way upon his arrival.

He
had heard of a city to the south, one constructed by a relatively new
race known as the lands-people, they cared little for the affairs of
Elves and Orcs but under their roofs he may find the sleep and
supplies he needed to further his quest.

And
if the good lands-people should happen to lose a few of their
possessions in order to pay El-Vador's way then so be it.

He
would keep travelling south until he discovered signs of these men,
if they didn't make an appearance he would keep going until he caught
sight of his first Orc. Since leaving the remnants of the stronghold,
El-Vador had not set gaze upon anything but prey. He wasn't that
concerned about the lack of conversation, his greater worry was that
he didn't know where he was going beyond simply walking south.

A
scream cut through the air from the hill directly below them, he
slowed in his tracks and crept forward cautiously, unslinging his
bow. It would seem that he would have some company after all.

The
noise came from the south, so unless he decided to track around it he
had already planned to pass through the area. While part of him was
intrigued at what could have caused the screaming, he was no fool.
Whatever had made that noise was not inviting and there was no need
for him to go charging in and involving himself in matters that
didn't concern him.

He
lowered himself into a crouch and carefully crested the hill, peering
down at the scene below.

What
must have been a man was standing with his sword drawn against three
opponents, all of them fully armed. He was slowly ascending the hill,
attempting to reach the higher ground before they attacked. It didn't
look like he was going make it. His enemies were circling now and
looking to cut him off before he could reach the hills and prevent
them from attacking his flanks.

At
first El-Vador considered coming to the aid of this stranger, one man
against three opponents seemed dire odds. He stopped himself from
interfering, he knew not this man's allegiances or how he would react
to an Elf appearing this far south. Better to let these hunters have
their way with him and move on. El-Vador watched silently as the
battle unfolded beneath him.

One
of the three attackers charged forward, the other two holding back
for a moment to watch the action. He swung his axe down and the man
parried it, glancing the head wide to his left and using his momentum
to swing at the man's ribs. The assailant attempted to dodge the blow
but his motions betrayed him and the edge of the blade bit home.

The
attacker groaned and fell back, dropping the axe and clutching at his
side, he appeared to be having trouble breathing.

The
second warrior thrust forward with a wicked looking halberd,
attempting to skewer the man on its point. The man parried this
firmly and then brought his sword down, lopping the halberd in two
with a single stroke. He lunged forward at the defenceless man and
impaled his throat with the tip of his blade.

The
third attacker had managed to get round to the man's flank unawares,
he lunged forward now with his sword at the defenceless target.

El-Vador's
arrow sunk deeply into the man's chest, he let out a cry of choked
surprise and fell to the grassy foot of the hill.

'Who
are you, stranger?' the man warily called up to him after a time.

'That
depends on who is asking,' El-Vador replied in the common tongue.

'I
am known as Harlven, a priest of the Church of One.'

El-Vador
had seen religious kin before, none of them brandished swords and
fought off ambushes. He approached this stranger cautiously, his bow
still at hand lest this be a trap

'I
am El-Vador, I come from the lands north of here, though they are no
longer my home.'

If
the man seemed surprised at seeing an Elf in these lands he did not
let it show. 'Well met, El-Vador. What made you finally decide to aid
me in my fight against my would-be killers?'

'To
watch a man die at the hands of three others when he was clearly
trying to defend himself seemed a poor choice.' El-Vador pointed at
the sword that Harlven's still held. 'though I have never seen a holy
man outfitted for combat so well as you.'

'I
am from a warrior caste.' Harlven said. 'often we come across those
who wish us to cease spreading our word.'

El-Vador
shrugged. 'I have no quarrel with your religion or who you choose to
spread it to.' He saw no reason to continue speaking to the man and
began to head south once more.

'Hold,
stranger,' Harlven called after him, 'where is it that you're headed
in such a hurry?'

El-Vador
tensed slightly, fearing an altercation now that this swordsman was
in close quarters. 'I travel south to the human cities, what is it to
you?'

'You
aided me valiantly against those thugs, I am in your debt.'

'Tell
me where the nearest city is and we are even.'

'Three
day's march south of here, the road you're on leads right to it.'
Harlven said. 'it is a sinful place full of dangerous people, what
takes your feet there?'