The Sword Of Evernight

The Sword

The Beginning:

Thrand plodded through the forest clutching his bow and three decent sized rabbits. it was getting dark and Thrand new better than to stay out late in the woods. many foul beasts prowled at night, and human was a rare delicacy for them. he paused a moment, for he thought he heard a clash of metal, but looking around he saw nothing through the shadows and made his way onwards. Darkness fell on the horizon blanketing the land and Thrand thought he heard the metallic sound again. He looked behind him. Sullenly he walked on. Any variation from his normal routine was welcome he thought. Again he heard the clank, closer now and he was sure he heard it.

"Who goes there!" he cried out into the darkness, his voice quavering. There was no answer however. Thrand cautiously laid down his catch and nocking an arrow to the string, he crept forward into the enveloping gloom. His eye caught movement in the trees, and he turned to face the direction from whence it came. Slowly he drew back to half draw and called out again,

"Who goes there!"

A man in tattered, blood caked armour staggered from the trees.

"Don't shoot..." he croaked, collapsing to the ground. "Come... help me... I haven't much time left, yet my mission is far from over..."

Thrand wearily inched forward, not releasing the draw.

"Who are you and what do you want?" Thrand did his best to keep the fear from his voice but it was unsteady giving the impression of lack of confidence. The man panted, coughing up blood,

"I am Seraz, envoy of King Alvrad. I was bringing the Sword Of Evernight to his majesty, when i was ambushed by Durhs. I barely escaped."

Thrand ,though still weary, also knew that denying a king's envoy was punished only by death, slowly dropped the bow releasing the tension of the string and knelt beside the man. Large gashes ran the length of his torso and his back was peppered with small dart wounds. Thrand grimaced as he tried to help the man to his feet.

"Come, I will tend to you at my cottage."

The two men hobbled through the black evening, only stopping for Thrand to retrieve the rabbits he had killed earlier.

Thrand returned to his cottage, helping the half armored Seraz along. He entered clumsily, and laid Seraz down onto the bedroll. The man slept, feverishly. Thrand thought over the chain of events with disbelief. These things don't happen in real life, but only in minstrel's saga! He chuckled to himself. In the morning things would be back to normal, he thought somewhat sadly. It would be terrific if all this was real, but he decided to enjoy the dream while it lasted. Finally when he awoke he spoke in a hoarse, raspy and tired whisper.

"I have not long for this world, but my mission is not done. I consign this sword to you. Deliver it to King Alvrad and you will be rewarded. Fail, and may you rot in Enma's hell, forever and ever" Seraz produced his sword from his scabbard and handed it carefully to Thrand. "Take care of this. And take haste! My enemies may have followed me here." Seraz sank down into the bed, closing his eyes. In his mind, he was troubled, and as darkness closed in, he prayed to himself. Thrand went to bed, in the small loft above the ground floor, keeping the sword close by.

Thrand was awoken by strange sounds of scuffling and muffling below. He peered through the thatch in the loft's floor, through the dark and to his utter horror, three hulking figures were rummaging through his few belongings. Despite, the dim light, he recognised the figures as Durhs, there foul stench polluting the cabins air. Thrand inched towards a thatch on the roof. At this point, it was only a matter of time before the beasts found a way to the loft- and to him. He opened thatch and crept onto the roof gripping the sword in one hand, and balancing with the other. He jumped down to the ground, as an ugly, grotesque head of one of the Durh came into the loft. Thrand ran for the forest, cursing that he didn't have his bow.

He sprinted away looking back to see three shadows filing from his cabin. He sprinted off, not bothering to be stealthy. At this point stealth would only encumber him and slow him. Thrand saw the Durhs bounding behind him- gaining! He pushed himself harder, running and jumping down a hill in the forest. He tried to take paths ridden with obstacles, to, potentially, slow his pursuers. Thrand ducked as a durh pounced over him, and began to run another way. The beast pivoted and with a growl, it jumped towards Thrand. The two other beasts bounded from the trees and before he could escape, thrand was surrounded. The beasts circled Thrand, and to make matters worse, rain began to fall. Thrand held the sword up, catching the moon on its silvery blade. The beasts made horrid sounds, which Thrand guessed to be laughs. What a horris way to die, he thought. Why wouldn't he just wake up!

The Durh bounded towards Thrand, catching his torso between its maw. Pain shot through him. Pain that was too sharp and real to be a dream. Thrand swung the sword with his last strength at the monsters matted coat of thick oily fur. The sword cut deep into the beasts flesh, and the durh let go Thrand as it howled horribly, clawing at the wound. Thrand staggered backwards, holding up the sword as the other beast cannoned into him. It threw him into the air, catching him between its teeth. Thrand felt his ribs crack and grip loosened on the sword. Pain clouded his vision and blood streamed from multiple wounds on his body. His head lolled for a moment, and the Durh shook him violently, before flinging him against a boulder. He did not get- he couldn't. He hurt everywhere, and slowly as the Durhs circled in, he felt darkness close around him. He did not fight it. In fact, he welcomed it like an old friend. As he slouched against the boulder, he saw a fast flaming blur barry itself into the second Durh's chest, erupting in flames and two more barry themselves in the third Durh's chest and head, exploding with fire again. He looked up to see a figure crouching above him. The tendrils of darkness jerked him away and he fell into a fitful, nightmarish sleep.

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Thrand woke to the sound of a crackly fire and the stench of rot, the smell was so strong it enveloped him, so he could both taste it and feel it, prickling his skin. He opened his eyes, and he saw a large fire piled with three Durh corpses, and a familiar figure sitting by the fire. He had long brown hair and thin, and wiry. His eyes were dark, and he wore a gaunt expression.

"Hal!" he said weakly, "my sweet holy Vadne! How good is it to see you!" Hal was the village Wizard's apprentice. He was an intelligent student and a fast learner. Nothing went over his head.

"What were you doing fighting Durhs alone?" his friend replied, in a concerned tone.

"I came across a king's Envoy, he was bringing this sword to the king. He said it has the power to save the kingdom." Thrand realised how absurd he must have sounded to Hal. A morbid grin spread across Hal's face and he spoke.

"Well then. that makes sense. A band of Durh came to the village last evening in search of a sword and a rider whom they called Seraz. When we had none the burnt the village. Those who tried to fight were slaughtered, including master... master Kyav" a tear welled in his eye, before he added "I came to find you, after the rest of the village was chained, and marched away. I'm lucky to be alive."

"What!? The village was burnt?! And Kyav is dead!" Thrand's stomach fluttered and he went pale. "My god, dark times are these. And that stench of burning corpses only darkens it, could you do something for the odor?"

"Oh, sure" Hal waved his hand, saying a word dispellment and the odor dissipated."I have horses we should make haste. Your hut was burnt; I saw smoke through trees when I found you. It's lucky i did. You would have died from the cold, if the Durhs didn't finish you off." Thrand tried to stand but his legs gave way and he collapsed. He breathed heavily, pain shooting up his side. At least he had stopped bleeding. Gently, Hal helped him to his feet and lead him to two horses a little ways off.

"I've cast a spell of quick healing upon you. As long as you rest, you'll heal many times faster.'' Hal comforted.

They mounted with much difficulty and made their way on. Thrand slumped in the saddle, mentally preparing himself for the painful jostling ride ahead. Thrand and Hal avoided the ruins of the village as they head for the mountains; the capital they knew was situated on the far side of the mountains and forests. Thrand gazed slowly at the lands he had lived all his life in, with sorrow. It was unlikely he would ever come back. He held his head high, as his passed mother had taught him, he looked over the hills to the far off. He was off on an adventure, wasn't this what he had always wanted?