The wind blew through the trees
causing the shadows to dance as the sunlight peered through the thick canopy of
the Forests of Cormanthor. The trio of elves perched silently observing the
caravan slowly trudging its way through the forest along the well-worn path.
The elves sunk deep into the shadows of the canopy to prevent discovery by an
errant reflection of sunlight off metal. Their bows were half-drawn, the metal
arrowheads blackened with soot to prevent reflection and smeared with sap
containing various poisons.
Below them a dozen or so humans and
dwarfs trudging slowly along had no knowledge of their elven observers above or
that their impending death was at hand. A moment later a mirror flashed from
the trees that signaled the loosing of arrows into the caravan below. Several
heartbeats later the three elves dropped from their perch to the forest floor
to examine their handiwork. Bodies littered the forest floor, men and dwarf
alike. The elves went about their work collecting and cutting the arrows from
the bodies. Once their handiwork was done, one of the elves reached into his
pouch and pulled a dagger with a broken blade bearing runes no surface elf
would dare be seen carrying as well as a few scraps of deep black cloth and
dropped them amidst the slaughter. Then as one the elves disappeared into the
forest leaving only the dead as proof of their passing.
*********************************************************************************************
The moon crested the horizon
illuminating the night with a soft ghostly glow. Upon a remote bluff
overlooking the Forest of Cormanthor stood a single solitary figure that gazed
upon the forest canopy below. The chilling night wind blew over the trees
making the branches sway creating the illusion of the forest being a great
green ocean that rippled and flowed beneath the bluff. The lone figure stood
there silently for several moments as if lost in thought, before raising a hand
and gesturing towards the tree line.
Figures melted from the shadows and
padded towards the cloaked figure with a cadence that displayed both wariness
and respect. A single voice rang out once the figures had gotten within ten paces
of the cloaked individual.
“Report” the cloaked figure spoke in a male voice.
Eight figures dropped to their knees
and removed their hoods to reveal elven features beneath. The elf closest to the
cloaked figure spoke first.
“A caravan of a dozen humans and dwarfs perished at the
northern end of Cormanthor my lord. We placed the broken dagger of the dark kin
at the scene.”
“Did you disguise yourself as drow before attacking?” the
cloaked figure asked.
“No my lord we were in a hurry to
complete the mis-‘ the elf began to stammer before a single silver blade etched
with shadows was at his throat, it’s razor edge drawing a line of crimson along
his jugular. The cloaked figure had moved so fast that he had seemed to almost
appear in front of the elf. Two crystalline blue eyes that brimmed with
unrestrained fury bore hard into the elf’s face and the voice now as hard as
steel barked a question no louder than a whisper “And when I said to disguise
yourself as drow when attacking the humans did you think that was a suggestion?
You jeopardize everything we have worked for with your carelessness. If I did
not need you further I would end your miserable life right now. Next time
however, I will not be so forgiving.” Before the elf could respond, the cloaked
figure withdrew the dagger blade from the elf’s neck and was almost instantly
back at his original position several paces away.
“Next” he intoned with all the rage gone from his voice.
The next elf spoke and reported
similar activities where drow weaponry and items had been left at the scene of
carnage. The reports continued and each time the cloaked figured nodded his head
in a gesture that could be considered acknowledgement but not quite approval.
Once each of the kneeling figures had reported, the cloaked figure turned to
face the gathered group and removed his hood. The gesture was done merely as a
formality as every elf kneeling knew to whom they were addressing. He was Lord
Ruluvien Tahl’Veras, the Vel’Nikeryma of their local cell of Eldreth Veluuthra.
The Eldreth Veluuthra was an organization dedicated to the eradication of all
humans from the face of Faerun and the Vel’Nikeryma served as their Blade Lords
or leaders who were responsible for directing their cell’s operations and
actions against humankind. As he stood before them, the moonlight made the grey
in the Ruluvien’s hair shine like silver as he addressed the group, “I believe
we are poised to launch this operation into the next phase then.”
Ruluvien glanced about then spoke
“These verminous humans have been slowly invading the southern tip of
Cormanthor. Their relentless advance into the forest must be stopped but we
cannot openly declare war upon these creatures as they would be as numerous as
ants when you kick their hill. We must divert their attention and focus to
other enemies and then strike at the heart. We have caused much disruption in
the past few months and slain countless humans under the guise of being drow or
daemonfay. The humans in response have done exactly as we had expected, they
have decided to convene a council before acting. This will put their leadership
in one location and will be perfect for lopping the head off the snake. This
council will be meeting at the Druid Grove near the southern tip of Cormanthor
in two days. The structure is an open auditorium and should be easy for us to
sneak in and assassinate their regions leaders. There will be three targets of
interest; Captain Aldrige, High Priestess Beryll, and Hierophant Calens.”
“Faerdril, summon an image of the grove.” Ruluvien
commanded.
One of the kneeling figures stood
and began to chant softly, as he finished a translucent glowing image of the grove
appeared before the group.
“It is done my lord” Faedril remarked.
Ruluvien began to give assignments
for positioning and targets. “You three shall slay Captain Aldrige as he enters
the hall here” Ruluvien pointed at a location on the image.
“You three shall assassinate the
High Priestess when she arrives here and I shall personally handle the
assassination of the Hierophant Calens.” Ruluvien remarked. “Faerdril, you
shall remain hidden and shall polymorph any of our fallen into drow and
daemonfay as well as half the slain guards in order to disguise who is
attacking the council. The rest of you will need to take your teams and attack
the western courtyard here disguised as drow and kill as many humans as
possible to sow chaos at the time of the attack. We will need to have the
humans mobilize to fight the drow and daemonfay for us so that we may strike at
all three when they are at their weakest and reclaim our forest.” Ruluvien
spent the next half hour coordinating the plans with the group and ensuring
assignments were known. After much discussion one of the group asked Ruluvien,
“what of the human ranger that has been foiling many of our attempts in the
past few months.”
“What human ranger?” asked Ruluvien
“The humans call him Darkcloak” replied one of the elves.
“He is of no consequence. Kill him.” said Ruluvien.
*********************************************************************************************
The outdoor auditorium was flush
with people for the council meeting. Dignitaries from the dales had arrived to
discuss the burgeoning issue of attacks on the human settlements by both drow
and demonic creatures from the forest. The auditorium was huge, built entirely
of stone into the cusp of a hillside; it formed an almost perfect semi-circle
using the massive wall of trees behind it as its natural acoustics. There was
no ceiling to the auditorium and the rows of ascending stone benches encircled
it. At the bottom of the auditorium flanked by two were-tiger guardians, sat
Hierophant Calens upon a chair made of twisted roots and branches. To his left
and across the room stood upon a stone dais Captain Aldrige flanked by his
guardsmen and advisors while on the opposite side of the chamber sat High
Priestess Beryll of Chauntea. The High Priestess sat in quiet conversation with
another woman while she waited for the council to convene. Before the
Hierophant was an oaken table where many of the emissaries had already taken up
seats in preparation for the discussion.
The Hierophant stood and raised his
arms high into the air and addressed the attending masses “Good folk of the
Dales, thank you for attending this convergence. We live in perilous times.
These past few months many of our friends and loved ones have been murdered by
the machinations of those who revel in evil. Raids from the dark folk and even
worse have left us with dead loved ones, wrecked homes and burning fields. “
As the Hierophant spoke 3 pink butterflies floated across
the auditorium.
“We must seek to protect ourselves from this and fortify our
communities.” The Hierophant continued. “I have called this council to…”
A swarm of crimson winged
butterflies erupted from the crowd and flew upwards. As the crowd’s attention
was drawn to the sudden flurry of wings a bubbling gurgle could be heard
escaping the lips of Captain Aldrige as a black-bladed dagger punched through
the front of his chest. Two more daggers slammed into the Captain’s neck from
each side as three of his guards withdrew bloodied black daggers and escaped
towards the forests their disguises being cast off to reveal black skin. As the
horror of Captain Aldrige’s death began to sink in, a singular figure sped
across the table at almost inhuman speed towards the Hierophant.
The were-tiger guardians now alert
to danger both dropped instantly to the ground dead as two silver daggers
punched through their eye sockets from the speeding form racing across the
table. The Hierophant stopped mid-sentence as a dagger punched through his
cheek shattering his jaw and splintering teeth. The howl of agonizing pain was
mercifully cut short when a dagger slammed into the back of the Hierophants
head with a bone crunching snap and the shadowy form of his assailant twisted
the dagger with a sickening pop. A fountain of blood erupted from the exit
wound of the Hierophants skull drenching the assailant in a crimson spray. The
assassin quickly glanced around the room to see that the High Priestess still
lived and was being defended by a human male with grey-brown hair. Several of
the Eldreth Veluuthra lay dead or unconscious at the human male’s feet as he
was engaged by three others seeking to kill the High Priestess.
The human wore the garb of a
ranger, forest green chainmail covering his large frame and two empty scabbards
at his waist. A dark cloak was draped over his shoulders and served as a
barrier between him and the attacks as he whirled and dashed out of the way of
the oncoming attacks. He wielded two scimitars expertly as he blocked the
poisoned daggers of the disguised drow assassins. A feint pulled one of his
opponents off balance enough to where he could punch the tip of one of his
scimitars into the assassin’s chest, dropping him where he stood.
The room has erupted into chaos at
the assassinations of the captain and hierophant but the ranger’s stalwart
defense of the high priestess was beginning to restore order to the room as the
remaining guards began to mobilize and charge towards the scene of battle.
Cursing, Ruluvien threw a blue
capsule onto the ground which erupted into a plume of blue smoke which signaled
the withdrawal of his forces from the scene. Ruluvien drew a dagger and hurled
it at the back of the human ranger defending the high priestess. Before the
dagger could hit home the ranger spun and blocked the throw with his iron
gauntlet that bore a single crimson rune that glowed with a soft fiery light.
Much to Ruluvien’s annoyance, the ranger’s eyes met his and the ranger smirked
before returning to defending the High Priestess.
Anger almost overwhelmed the
Vel’Nikeryma but his goal had been attained. Even as his forces withdrew from
the slaughter, Faerdril was disguising the corpses with magic before
withdrawing himself.
*********************************************************************************************
In the following months the humans had mobilized and taken
the war to the drow and daemonfay in the southern reaches of Cormanthor.
Ruluvien and his cell were able to pick off smaller contingents of humans, drow
and daemonfay with relative ease with minimal casualties. Time and time again
however, the human ranger bearing the dark cloak would turn an easy victory
into a punishing loss as his last minute intervention would turn the tide.
Ruluvien raged at his cell, “Find the Darkcloak! Slay him!”
It wasn’t until Ruluvien led raid
near to the moors that he finally encountered the ranger the humans called
Darkcloak once again. The Eldreth Veluuthra attacked the caravan of supplies
only to find that it was a trap as crossbow bolts tore into their ranks from the
covered wagons. Many of the elves fell before the main contingent reached the
covered wagons and the humans erupted from concealment weapons drawn. Ruluvien
and his assassins punched through the human ranks, stabbing and slashing with
murderous abandon. Each strike made with perfect fluid grace followed by a thin
ribbon of crimson trailing behind. The humans began to fall as the lightning
quick attacks of the remaining elves began to take their toll.
Suddenly an elf to Ruluvien’s left
cried out in pain and then dropped, an arrow jutting from his chest. Ruluvien
looked up from his mask to see the human ranger standing over one of the
wounded human guardsmen with his longbow drawn and an arrow nocked. Anger
flooded Ruluvien’s thoughts as he kicked the human he was currently engaged
with in the throat and then turned to speed towards the ranger. The human drew
and loosed an arrow in one fluid motion at Ruluvien before dropping the bow and
drawing his two scimitars. Ruluvien deflected the arrow with one of his dagger
and closed the distance between the two in seconds.
The two combatants fought amidst
the battle around them. Daggers and scimitars flashed and chimed as the two
unleashed attacks in a flurry of steel. The uncanny speed of the elf was
countered by the practiced maneuvers of the human, each kick or trip was
blocked or dodged before it could land. Ruluvien’s attacks began to increase in
speed and ferocity as his anger began to consume him, each block or parry from
the human ranger was a split second slower than it had been before. It was only
a matter of time before the assassin was going to breach his defenses and kill
the ranger. The battle had carried the two well beyond the area of combat where
the two forces were engaged and they were now fighting at the edge of the moor.
A dagger blade slid along the chainmail of the ranger’s chest and the human
jumped back in alarm. Seeking the kill, the elf lunged forward only to have the
ranger also lunge forward and head butt him and knock him backwards.
Ruluvien stumbled back, his vision swimming and the ranger
took a moment to catch his breath before attacking the elf. Suddenly on the
defensive, Ruluvien shook his head clear and began encircling his long daggers
in a defensive arc to parry the ranger’s incoming attacks. The elf finally
regained his balance and pressed the attack again. One of the ranger’s
scimitars fell from his grip and a cry of triumph escaped the elf’s lips.
Before the elf could seek the advantage however a gauntleted fist careened into
his guts and knocked the air out of his lungs. As Ruluvien stumbled back, the
ranger dove for his scimitar and regained his footing as the elf caught his
breath.
The two combatants had been
fighting for several minutes now and began circling each other warily. The elf
finally said “I will enjoy killing you ranger. You fight well.”
The ranger smirked and said “You don’t.”
The brazen remark caught the
arrogant elf off guard and a cry of rage was torn form his lungs. As the elf
charged, the human hurled a clump of mud that he can scooped up rather than his
scimitar right into the elf’s face, blinding him. The human then slashed his
remaining scimitar across the elf’s face and kicked him off the cliff and into the moor below.
The elf cried out in pain and surprise as landed in the mire and muck..
The elf clamped a hand over his
wounded face and roared back at his opponent “You shall die Darkcloak! You
have no idea whose path you have crossed this day!”
The ranger looked down from his
vantage point above and said quietly “You’re right I don’t. And I don’t really
care either.” The ranger bent to retrieve his bow and finish off his opponent when he saw his comrades still embattled with the elven attackers. Darkcloak then rejoined his comrades and fought off the
rest of the elven attackers and left the Vel’Nikeryma fighting to keep from sinking in
the bog below.
*********************************************************************************************
Ruluvien looked in the mirror at
the pale white scar that stretched down his cheek. He thought back to the
valuable lesson he had learned that day several years ago when years of
planning had been foiled by the actions of a single human ranger. Since then he
had engineered the deaths of hundreds if not thousands of humans along the
borders of Cormanthor, but he never again took for granted the canniness of the
human race and their uncanny ability to foil his plans with a single action or
phrase.
Ruluvien finished scribbling in his
ledger and grabbed the scrolls he had written down which were orders to his
agents within his cell. “I will find you again Darkcloak” the Vel’Nikeryma
mused “and next time, we will see who walks away.”
To be continued…
