Tai - Her very own prologue!

• Posted by PedestrianCarrot August 27, 2012 - 784 views

  The forests were still. It was as though Valenwood itself had frozen, mourning in anticipation of the events about to pass. She was bent in a crouch, high up and hidden by the shadows cast by the draping greenery. One hand was wrapped about a branch above, more for comfort than for fear she might fall. Her dark eyes were set upon the scene unfolding within the glade, but a gentle breeze played through the leaves and drew her attention to the right. Her eyes found Saylen mirroring her behaviour, his own attention fixated upon the approaching Thalmor. It was a comfort to know he was so close, while you wouldn’t think it to meet him –since he generally acted like such a massive tit- his skill in archery was unmatched and his very presence inspired confidence. The other members of the Bosmer rebellion were dotted about the area, their pounding hearts matching the rhythm of her own. Stealth had befriended them and their locations eluded her, yet she could feel their presence, sense their motives and there was no doubt that when the time came the rebellion would act as one.

   

  It seemed to be male - the high elf, parading before the massed gathering of his kin – there was an edge of masculinity to that strut.  A unique arrogance coated each step, an arrogance that personified his very race. It brewed a heated contempt in her heart and she felt the anger reflected back to her as though the forest itself had stiffened mid snarl.  

   

   He waited until his feet had come to a complete halt before confirming his gender beyond the haughty swagger, the deep lyrics enunciated in a male voice that was anything but gruff. It was clear that his masculinity had been bred through privileged education, not extreme inebriation, cavorting with women and getting punched in the face....an absolute must in the lengthy initiation of adolescence to manhood. His company, a gathering of six to eight others, halted in unison behind him. They appeared unarmed, but her eyes licked over their hands, wary of flames that could ignite from their fingertips at the slightest hint of defiance on the part of the Bosmer Elders.

   

  "There are rumours your area has become sanctuary to criminals Aerdil."

   

  Ah, Aerdil. The woman stood tall for her age, straight, rigid and proud in the face of the threat. Rumours circled that she had been quite a catch in her youth, fuelled by adrenaline and a hunger for lust. Now the creases in her skin only served to add weight to her presence, what she had lost in youth she had gained in wisdom and outright demanded in respect. Thick grey tendrils had been tamed into a plait that hung low past her waist and as the crisp clear voice of Aerdil rang out into the trees, Tai could not help but grin. Now THAT was a woman who could hold her own. Sneaking a glance to her right she noticed the same pride written over Saylens lips.

   

  "The forest is home to all our kin who wander it, Maradeth. I harbour no criminals under 'my' protection. If folk choose to pass through these trees, do you expect an old woman to take up arms and challenge them? I think not!"

   

  There was mumbled agreement from the other elders behind her. They would back her to their graves though none held quite her steel. The Thalmor gathering on the other hand, seemed to stiffen in their robes, taking umbrance to the challenge in her tone. Tai felt her heart palpate as a flicker of flame caught her eye, but it was extinguished as soon as it had shone.

   

  "If you cannot control the area we have graciously proffered to you, then perhaps we need to retrieve what you have lost," anger filled the agents voice, his volume rising with each word. "Discipline! Order! Loyalty! It is well known that the seeds of rebellion have been dropped and all evidence of their planting points to HERE! So tell me Aerdil.....do you intend to assist in the uprooting of these traitors or must I teach them cost of betrayal using more.... illustrative means?" To punctuate the latter he rolled his wrist with a flourish, an upturned palm coming alight with arcane flame. She sensed the forest twitch.

   

  "They are not traitors Maradeth," Aerdil made a lowering motion with her palm, a soothing gesture that Tai associated with the taming of beasts. She had seen it during many a heated debate. Her voice turned, becoming soothing, gentle. "It is nothing but the excitement of youth, brought to your ears by the folly of adolescence. Stories beneath the stars long past hours that youthful eyes should be closed and fast asleep. Keep your calm, I will speak with them."

   

  But Maradeth was not so easily pacified. He began to shake, the flame in his hand adopting the tremble. "Four of our agents are DEAD! At the hands of Bosmer bows. Three more were found just South of here, their bodies decimated....flesh skinned from their bone. Five are believed missing. An entire company of men, scholars no less.....vanished not a month past, to feed the rebellion thirst. All this of this within our recent movement here."

   

  "The wilds hunger Maradeth....you cannot blame....."

   

  Aerdil was cut off, his anger exploding into rage, the flames growing as though fuelled by his rage. "The first time we put it down to wolves, the second to the landscape and the movement of the trees, after the third we became suspicious, but now it seems the traitors act freely and without caution.......I will wait for truth no longer!" It was then that his hand was lifted, his company behind him readying their fingertips with fire, a united action that caused the glade to glow. The elves began to stir, backing away from the arcane threat but Maradeth was done watching us squirm. A jet of fire erupted from his palm. Whether he had intended to hit Aerdil or simply provide a warning shot, Tai would never be certain. The Bosmer sprang to action, the forest acting as one.

   

  The entire gathering encircling the glade, flew down between the vines letting rip a piercing battle cry, the screeching sound itself enough to cause the Thalmor to duck. It wasn’t a word, manufactured by language, nor a cry akin to the sounds a human might utter. It was a terrifying wail, as though someone had cut into the celestial flesh of Y’ffre himself and the wilds were screaming in harrowing rage. Arrows began to fly, flames spilled freely into the air and the scent of burning wood filled the glade, acrid, pungent and rancid against the unmistakable stench of fear. She caught Saylen running towards Aerdil, his fingers fast, arrows relentless, before he finally tumbled into a graceful roll, hitting the ground behind her and disappearing with the elder woman into the trees. If Tai had been from another place, she would having been a little jealous of his swarve execution of such a roll muttering bitterly about ‘....damn poser...thinking he’s James-frikkin-Bond!’. ( Cue necessary discussion on Skyrims James Bond equivalent! ) A stream of flame followed them into the trees.

   

  Tai had taken a different target. Maradeth. She was not the only one. In response to the onslaught of arrows he had abandoned weaponry for a ward greater power, drawing to him the deadly tirade while he crouched in relative safety beneath his arcane shield. As endless arrows reigned down upon him she saw Bosmer after Bosmer fall from the trees, their limp bodies giving their final response to the might of the Thalmor mages. She cried out loudly:

   

  "Take out the rest of them! Apply your arrows to the rest!!"

   

  The battle cry was taken up and the hidden rebellion made short work of the Thalmor left in the chaos to wield their magic blindly. Fire was their weapon of choice for where they missed our kin they struck at our homeland and the dry grass within the glade had soon caught aflame, the sounds of battle giving way to a cracking blaze. She felt a stab to her heart, sharp emotion tearing her gut, while the fire manifested into a force of its own and cries of retreat were bellowed into the smoke.

   

  It was then that a fireball struck, not her body but the boots that covered her feet, knocking them clean out beneath her. Her arm flew out to grip ahold of a branch, but her temple connected with wood before her hands could establish balance. Knocked clean out she fell through the trees and with the singed greenery no longer there to cradle her fall, it was deadened grass that met her fragile frame, long after her own consciousness had descended into blackness. Her last lingering thought extinguished with the bump.

  “Shit.”