"Where the hell is he Vane? You said they were the best trackers in the world!" Frank throws his cup of water at one of his men. He knows he can't throw it at Vane. He was sent to them as help but he knows he can't burn this bridge yet.
"It is not my fault you decided to let him go. We should have killed him on the spot when he arrived. Come Puddle we have real work to be done." Vane turns around and walk off into the darkness. He's the safest person in these woods. His drake by his side and a pack of werewolves at his command.
Frank shakes his head. He knows it's a lost cause to chase after him. Besides, Puddle won't even let him get close. It doesn't matter, once the capital falls and he's sitting in the chair, everything will be okay. Frank thinks about the things he needs to do in order to get there. His father wants to be king, but Frank knows his father is unsuited to rule, he should be the one.
The howls ring throughout the forest. A woman screams. They hear the crash and snapping if trees as the pack gives chase.
"Looks like we won't have to feed them tonight, guess your lucky Bates." The man standing not to far from Frank stands up a bit taller. Tightens his grip in his spear. "Get the men ready, we need to find this mage before he tells the King."
"Yes Sir." Bates slams his fist on his chest and then runs off to gather the men. Frank kneels down by the fire, his large hands open to the fire. He can feel it in his gut, this is going to be a long night.
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Alred breaks through the las t of the bushes. He's about twenty-five behind the pack of werewolves. He catches a glimpse of a white silk flashing in the moon light. As it disappears in the darkness, the werewolves come to a stop.
Alred slams his feet down, reaching for a tree. Alred notices the lack of. He looks around the small open meadow. Small bushes dot it. The ring of the meadow no larger then few carts next to each other. Spread through the meadow, seven pairs of bright yellow eyes lock on to him.
Alred tightens a grip on his staff. He pulls a dagger out again. The blade ready to slash into them. His eyes adjust to the darkness. The black blobs
'What do I do? The last time I fought a werewolf alone, I almost lost my arm. There are seven times that now and I'm still alone.' The word alone ringing in his mind.
Alred looks at his staff, the dull look lump at the top of the staff. Alred realizes he has an earth crystal in his staff. A small smile slides across his face. He touches the ground with his staff.
"Shackles." The whispers m, no more of a mutter of a word escapes his lips. Alred watches the vines race out of the ground. The twirl around like a brood of vipers. Each one locking on to a werewolf.
Alred hurries to replace the earth crystal with a fire one. The werewolves struggle with the vines. A few loosing right away. While the stronger ones breaking the vines with a single bite.
A small werewolf breaks free, running from the vines. It charges towards Alred. Its long black claws stretch forward. Reaching for him. He steps to the side. Pain ripples from Alreds side. The gush of a warm fluid down his side. He swings his down, slamming the dagger into the back of the werewolves skull. He let's go, pulling the other one out.
He turns s to see another one breaking free. He points his staff. The red crystal shining brightly, "Fire pillars."
Orange circles appear under the werewolves, steams raising from the ground. Small arcs of red flames dance around them. The red circles sink until a single red ball can be seen. One by one they each explode. Pillars of fire race for the sky.
The werewolves all yelp and the flames dance through their fur. The burnt hair and flesh fill the air. One by one. They fall to the ground, their lifeless bodies still smoking.
Trying to stop the bleeding. He pulls the bottom of his robe up, running his dagger through it, cutting off a thick section. He hurries to wrap it around him. Alred places his hand on his wound. He rips the dagger out of the last werewolves head. He rushes deeper into the woods. Using his staff to help him walk.
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Three months before Alred arrived at the Havrick Manor. To the North of the Southwick kingdom. On the southern license fields in the Ogden Kingdom.
Laena tugs on the thick course rope. The sled she's pulling continues to only sink in the fresh powdered snow. She has gotten lucky today. Elder-stags are becoming scarce.
Between the humans and the orcs, there are fewer of them coming this far into the ice fields. Today she was able to find two young bucks. She stops, looking back at them, afraid they will be gone. Her village needs this meat.
Aching pain squeezes her stomach. She tries to rub the pain away. It's the fifth day with out food. Some of the elderly have already gone in their sleep. She looks at the arrows sticking out of the bodies. Their feet are still bond, just in case they aren't dead.
She blames their chief for this. He doesn't ask for help. Not that there are many people of places that are willing to help a poor Ice-elf village. Shouldn't somebody help them? The orcs promised to not attack and that was only if they give them food.
The only thing the food bought freedom from was the attack from the orchestra themselves. Most elves try to live in piece, even away from the human kingdoms. Most kingdoms also tend to leave them alone. Stories about kingdoms falling due to a curse from an elven princesses.
Laena pushes herself to keep going. She just has to make her way through the small grove of pines that surround the village. The deep she walks into the pines the quietness starts to steep in. Normally on a day like today, even though there is a small fury, the kids would be outside playing. Even the loud month of Everlyn can't be heard.
Laena stops. Dropping the rope to the sled. She pulls her bow off of her back. Nocking an arrow right away. Each step in the snow on crunches even louder. She walks off the path. Crouching as she walks, looking towards the village, hoping to see someone safe. A loud scream echoes from the village. Someone bashes their way through the pines. She only sees their white hair between the trees. Just as she turns to go meet the elf, a thumping thud silences the small woods.
Laena looks and sees Everlyn on the ground. A long black arrow sticking out of her back. Her clothes looking as if they were being ripped off of her. Laena sees her frost blues eyes grow dim. Laena fills with anger as she stalks forward.
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