The Bizarre Adventures of a Half-Elf

Prologue- The Half-Elf

Charlotte tightened her grip on her two short-swords, watching her breath fog the air before her face, and trying to ignore the cold drops of rain that dripped from the tips of her ears and down onto her cheeks. Most of the others had the hoods of their cloaks up for protection against the elements, but the Half-Elf knew that it blocked visibility.

She did not know much about the champions who fought for House Faistraad, but from the looks of the dozens of fighters who lined the opposite side of the field, she could that they had more. Being unprepared as well as being outnumbered made her grind her teeth.

But at least the rain provided some cover on the otherwise empty expanse of grass that served as the combat field, aptly named the Bloody Field. She could just make out the other side in the distance, and she saw who she assumed was Lord Faistraad prepping his men for battle. From what she could see, this lord was much younger than the one she fought for.

Lord Cornello did not have much to say to his own side as far as pep talks went. He had said all that he needed to the night prior, and talking in the rain seemed too much of an exertion for him as he sat underneath the tent awning provided by his servants. So Charlotte waited amidst the others, who either fretted nervously to themselves or beat their shields in an attempt to bluster some courage. The dual-wielder did neither of those things, instead choosing to stand seemingly relaxed.

 While most rogues tended to make themselves inconspicuous, Charlotte had chosen a more intimidating appearance: A double-sheathe criss-crossed over her chest and around her shoulders so that she could carry her two short swords on her back, and a dagger and several throwing knives rested on her belt.

Some might have said she was a little over-prepared, especially since the upkeep of her weapons had left her little money for a proper set of armor; hers was little more than thin pieces of leather strapped over her arms from elbow to fingers and her legs from knee to top of foot. But her mindset was that she didn't need that much protection if she killed them first. She hoped her confident and sudden appearance gave her an edge over the others. 

"Easy, lass. Bloodshed'll come soon enough," Kano's voice from behind drew her attention. The larger Human man had been silently sharpening his axe with a whetstone, less boisterous than he had been the night before.

"I'm fine," she retorted calmly.

"Sure, y'are. I can see it in ya. Ya look relaxed, but yer muscles are tense. Killed a lot of people, ya have."

"If I hadn't, I'd be crazy to be standing here."

"Military or mercenary?"

"Both. Soldier turned merc."

"What made ya turn teh adventurin'?"

"Guild life didn't sit well with me."

"They blackmail ya, did they?"

The Half-Elf remained silent, and her jaw stiffened slightly at the man's intuition.

"Ah. I getcha. Don't ya worry, miss Charlotte. Old Kano won't breathe a word."

The horn sounded.

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