El-Vador's Travels (36 page)

His
largest concern was what would happen when he got closer to the
burrow, there was only so near he could get to the structure before
advanced scouts or guards would spot him. He also had no idea what he
was looking for or how well-defended it would be. He cursed himself
briefly for not questioning this Salvarius more stringently, but the
man had a fervent belief about him that may have made the whole task
futile.

'Continue
your path, young pawn. I shall not allow for death to come to you so
swiftly at the mere border outposts of Orcish territory,' the voice
assured him, filling him with a steadying purpose.

The
voice had protected him before, in concerto with his own capabilities
he had slaughtered the guards on the border with its aid, it would
allow him to do so again with these Orcs in their burrow.

He
stayed alert throughout the rest of the tracking, keeping a fair
distance from the man who lived with the green-skins. The open plains
did not allow for much cover beyond the occasional strewn boulder,
but when tracking an opponent that did not even look back it
presented no difficulty.

Still
El-Vador did not relinquish his caution, stalking the man like a
mountain cat, his ears ever listening for stray sounds, his eyes
scanning the horizon for potential threats.

It
wasn't until Salvarius stopped in his tracks that the Elf had any
reason for this caution. The man just stood there in plain sight
unmoving, as if waiting for something to happen.

A
grinding noise split the air and El-Vador ducked under what meagre
cover he could afford, peering out as the ground appeared to rise in
plain sight.

It
was as if a huge lid had been lifted off the earth, tearing upward
and jutting into the sky. He watched as Salvarius approached the
structure at a stagger and descended into the very ground itself.
With a groan, the earth came crashing back down and settled once more
with a brief but resounding thud, had El-Vador not seen the position
of it with his own eyes it would have been imperceptible.

For
a time, he simply stood staring at the settling dust and earth,
uncertain as to how to proceed. He had been fearing that gaining
entrance into the secreted burrow would be difficult, even he had not
expected the sheer degree until confronted with it.

After
a time he skirted the perimeter of where the hatch had shut, there
was nothing of note about the surrounding land as far as he could
see, aside from a small river that winded its way from downhill.

A
river. Streaming water. Surely that had to serve as a source for the
burrow, did it not?

He
cautiously made his way around the area and over to the flowing
water, keeping his senses keen and eyes open for fear of any Orcish
sentries patrolling the area. Of that he saw no sign, instead
something presented itself that lifted his spirits.

The
river disappeared into the mouth of nothingness, a gaping maw of
darkness with large steel bars clamping the passage shut. To any
other person it would have been a foreboding sight, to El-Vador it
was both an opportunity and an entrance.

No
guards and no obstacles to his entry urged caution however. Why would
the Orcs build such a secretive structure only to create a back entry
so blatantly within sight? Something was wrong here, yet he did not
hear the other voice in his head warning him against this place.

The
large bars did little to impede his form, he slid through easily and
found himself in near-pitch blackness only faintly illuminated by the
daylight outside. The ground squelched underneath him unstably, a
misplaced foot in this treacherous area and he could be in peril, he
simply couldn't grope about blindly.

A
deep chuckling noise was followed by a searing pain in his eyes, he
clutched at them wildly and nearly pitched head first into the water.
When next he opened them the world was visible once more.

'What
have you done to me?' El-Vador asked the voice in his head, unwilling
to turn his head toward the light for fear of the consequences.

'Your
eyes can now navigate this darkness.' the booming voice replied,
causing a now-familiar feeling of tightness over his skull. 'Is that
not what you desired? Proceed with your journey.'

He
decided not to question it further, as he knew that doing so would be
fruitless. The voice only told him what it wanted him to know and
precious little else, once more it had proven useful and he had
begrudgingly come to accept that over time.

With
the darkness lifted by some strange internal luminescence, El-Vador
proceeded to follow the course of the river steadily downward into
the depths of the earth. So far there had been no divergence from the
straight and steadily sloping path, he simply had to follow its
course and stay alert for the inevitable change. It had to be
collected by the Orcs somewhere, the green-skins may prefer wine but
they needed water to make it.

As
he progressed through the now oddly luminescent tunnel he had no
further difficulties with his footing or needing to worry about being
unable to see potential threats. His newly formed vision in the
darkness seemed even better than his sight in plain daylight. Quietly
he pondered about whether this would be a permanent addition to his
arsenal or simply something that the voice had provided him for this
singular journey.

Further
clarification was not forthcoming, instead he was left with a
strangely hollow feeling in his chest which was dispelled immediately
when he heard the first of the noises.

It
was a faint scrabbling sound, barely detectable even to his own
hearing above the rushing water through the passage. He was no longer
alone, of that he was now certain, at least one of the denizens of
this strange tunnel was about to make an untimely appearance.

Drawing
his sword, he stood poised for a moment, straining his ears over the
sound of the water and once again picking up the seemingly random
noise as it skittered from place to place. There was nothing about
its course that indicated any pattern or logic, what if it were
simply vermin?

He
caught sight of the first of them and stifled a laugh as it rose to
its hind legs, as if inspecting him in kind. He had been right, it
was nothing but vermin, albeit slightly larger in stature than the
sort that scurried about the forests of his youth.

Sheathing
his weapon, he approached the rat and was somewhat surprised that it
stood its ground. The mere sight of another creature was enough to
send the native rodents of his homeland burrowing into the snow, yet
here was one that seemed almost insolent in its boldness.

El-Vador
approached the pompous little thing and offered it a kick, sending it
scurrying a little further up the tunnel with a cry, only to settle
itself on its hind legs once more and observe him with an undimmed
curiosity.

Stifling
a curse, the Elf drew his blade once more and decided to make quick
work of the thing lest it prove an irritation any further when things
became difficult, he didn't need animals following ahead of him and
announcing his arrival to the Orcs.

A
strange keening sound split the air as he approached with weapon
drawn, the rat was swaying gently as if it were rooted to the edges
of the murky waters and caught in a light breeze.

This
gave El-Vador but the briefest of pauses, as much as he couldn't
afford creatures following him, for noises to emanate from this
tunnel because of his appearance would be even worse. He promptly
struck the thing with his blade and silenced its song.

He
gave the strange incident no further heed until a few minutes later
when he heard the same scurrying sound but this time amplified,
whether by his strained senses or some other trickery he could not
tell.

Having
been forced to live off rodents in his time traversing the mountains,
when both game was scarce and the chill winter nights were
agonisingly long, El-Vador was not averse to lowering himself to
extermination of pests. Back then it was to ward off starvation, now
it was to ward off detection. One could easily have been the death of
him and the other could yet, the sobering thought negated the
triviality of the situation entirely.

The
cause of the increasing noise soon became apparent as several of the
creatures made appearances in a mimicry of their fallen comrade,
standing upon their hind legs and looking at him before breaking into
the same strange noise he had heard before.

El-Vador
approached with more than a little frustration apparent, sweeping his
sword out in a wide arc and beheading two of the creatures and
spattering the others in a great gout of blood.

Their
strange moaning turned into shrieks which the Elf quickly silenced
with his blade, leaving the tunnel quiet once more save for the faint
footfalls as he continued following the edges of the current.

The
scurrying came again, this time much more fervently than before and
amplified to a level that would undoubtedly carry far down the tunnel
and reveal that there was a presence within to any Orcish guards
patrolling. In response, El-Vador simply readied his blade once more
and cursed, knowing full well that the audible noise wouldn't make
any difference now.

There
were at least sixteen of them to his enhanced vision, no different
than the creatures before in both their general size and actions. If
this were to continue all the way to the Orcish burrow then he would
be caked in blood upon his arrival, a prospect he recalled all too
clearly from his previous exploits.

It
differed in one crucial way from the past noises of the things, their
strange song ran up the scale in pitch until its passed clear of his
hearing altogether. This was then followed by a shrieking cry from
the lead beast as it flung its way toward the Elf with bloodthirsty
abandon. El-Vador responded in kind with a quick cut that decapitated
it, but could barely bring his sword back to bear before the next was
upon him. He swung the blade out back and forth in a defensive
pattern, attempting to keep the full frontal onslaught from
clambering over him and forcing him into the water.

There
was only so much he could do in the face of such numbers, and instead
of leaping within range of his strikes the rats made for his ankles
and legs in the attempt to topple him.

It
was an unfamiliar method of attack to the Elf, who was much more used
to dealing with opposition his own height or scoring wild game from
afar with his bow. To deal with a procession of smaller creatures in
such close quarters called for El-Vador to improvise with his blade,
sweeping it out like a pendulum to ward off any creatures that got
too close.

It
was only a matter of time before the rats started to flank his
position, forcing him to place his back to the wall of this strange
corridor. He scored a number of hits while adjusting to compensate
for the malicious tactics of these beasts, but it did not stay their
assault, which bore a frenzied madness that defied preservation.

As
his swinging blade caught the skull of another rat that leapt for his
ankles, the creatures started to alternate their tactics. Some of
them leaping high to take him in the midriff while others kept
attempting to disrupt his vertical base, as if they had somehow
divined that his cold steel could not protect both positions at once
with any accuracy.

He
kicked out at one of the rats that had made a jump for his feet as he
swung his blade at another, it was then that a third one finally made
it through his defences and scrabbled up his leg. His defences
breached, El-Vador tried to shake the thing off and sprint clear of
the incensed creatures but it held on with a ferocious tenacity that
surprised him. He felt a prick of teeth as it bit through his jerkin
and found flesh, instinctively he brained it on the pommel of his
sword with a crunch and it fell into the water that his hurried
strides splashed through.

A
searing pain went up his side, emanating from the wound and causing
him to pull up. Turning his head back to survey the pursuit, he
strained his hearing for the scurrying feet that spelled trouble and
was instead greeted with silence.

He
wasn't being followed, as soon as he had retreated past his previous
kills the rats had seemed to have lost interest in him. El-Vador
found this surprising considering the fury they had attacked him with
and the incentive to follow that their dead comrades should have
inspired. Why had they given up now? Was it a territorial instinct
that demanded they not stray too far from their home?

The
pain silenced his queries and made him double over, his hands finding
purchase underneath the cool water on the edge of the flow as he
vomited bile.

'So
fragile, so easily subverted.' the deep voice chided him, adding to
the pain racing through him without a care. 'Your work here is
incomplete, I shall aid you further in your exploration. You need not
fear detection through these tunnels, the reason shall become
apparent.'

El-Vador
barely heard the words with the pain racking his body, then their
import sunk in as it receded, the voice somehow dampening his
autonomic reflexes to this insidious wound.