Born To Hail

Chapter 30

                Lueken awoke an hour before dawn, his sleep restless. He had been too excited to sleep, he knew that, yet he tried anyway. He knew there were many sleepless nights to come and wanted to sleep while he could. A few hours are better than none, he thought to himself as he prepared.

He went to were his armor hung on a stand in his room. It had been custom made for him. The elves had originally given a set of the armor their warriors wore, but he didn't think it suited him. It was too elven. So he had managed to talk one of the leather armorers in the village to craft him one more akin to what his tribe had made.

It was not a full suit of armor, like most the other races wore. It was only a few pieces; shoulder guards made from hardened stag hide died a dark brown, and lined with wolf fur the color of salt and pepper mixed together. A wide belt, from the same leather, to protect his waistline and hold various implements of war, such as knives and throwing axes. The last pieces of the expertly cured leather protected his shins. He was ashamed to admit his people could never make anything this well, yet he loved how it looked on him. Once donned in his armor, and Ogreth attached to his back, he felt he finally looked the leader of his tribe.

He slung his pack over his shoulder and strolled out of his room, with a spring in his step.

Little more than an hour later he met Fin at the base of the plateau, on the wide path behind Fin looked to be rows of short trees, with no limps or leaves, and oddly enough they each held a variety of weapons. At the front of the column there was a battle standard flapping in the mild breeze, five circles array evenly around a larger circle atop a field of green.

"They are my Ouron-Bok Vor or Iron Bark Warriors. They get their name from the armor that they wear. The armor is crafted from the Iron Bark tree that grows in the forest. They are the best fighters from this village. Here watch this." Lueken was surprised by the pride in Finrael's voice. Finrael pointed to the nearest Vor.

He ordered the Vor to walk over to the nearest tree.

The Vor glided over to the tree, an old Oak that stood nearly seventy feet tall, with the grace that only an elf possed. The warrior approached the Oak, he stepped up close to where his chest touched the rough bark.

Lueken blinked and rubbed his eyes, the Vor seemed to have disappeared right before his eyes. Lueken returned his attention to Finrael and said, "That's a quite the trick, I'm sure it works great for ambushes."

Fin nodded in the affirmative. With a curt command the Vor returned to his place amongst his fellow warriors. "Are you ready?" He asked the barbarian.

Lueken looked back towards the root-ramp that climbs the plateau back to Entnahil, he saw no one. "Sure." He answered, a bit halfheartedly. His lack of enthusiasm unsettled him, he knew the reason for his ill mood, but didn't want to admit it to himself.

"Good. We march in five." He called loud enough for the whole of his detachment of Vor to hear.

Over the next five minutes Lueken went through his pack, and double checked that he had packed everything. He knew everything was there, for he had checked the pack before leaving his room, yet he had to do something to pass the time. So once his was, again, assured his pack was good he readjusted the straps, for better comfort. Then he inspected the hundred warriors. All of them stood motionless information, awaiting the signal to start the march. As he walked around them none of the elves moved, save their eyes. Most seemed to watch him with what seemed like content in their eyes, the others were more like looks of dis-interest. None, however, seemed fearful or anxious of their mission.