Narg and the Necromancer

Elf

The group marched throughout the morning, glad to be rid of the gloom of the castle and back into the open air, even if it was into a forest with stunted and twisted trees. The day itself seemed to share their mood and the sun shone through the branches.

Eventually they came across a clearing. On a slight rise stood a small fort made of dark granite. Narg remained still and watched for long minutes before slowly backing up to his waiting companions.

“It’s an outpost of some kind, looks in good repair, though I didn’t see any movement. It appears to be locked up tight.”

“We should scout around the area,” suggested Shogun.

Narg glanced up. It was early afternoon and the sun was still shining high in the sky. The sight of it re-assured him for some reason. “Well enough. You two, circle that way, I will go the other direction. Meet on the far side.”

Gorgus and Shogun nodded, and set of quietly the way Narg had indicated. Narg watched them go for a moment, and then started to circle the fort in the other direction. All seemed quiet, too quiet. Who occupied the building? There was no pennant or other markings to signify ownership.

He made his way carefully through the woods, Bloodletter held ready. After some time he spotted an opening in the low hill the fort was built upon. The tree cover to the hill was not total, but the view from the fort was not good from the angle, so he decided to investigate, and moved closer, keeping hidden as much as possible. Still no movement. He arrived at the opening with no untoward incident. It appeared to be the entrance to a tunnel, perhaps natural, but he thought not.

Slowly he edged towards the cave mouth, keeping to the side to avoid silhouetting himself. A quick look into the darkness revealed nothing, so he slid around the wall into the entrance.

Inside was dark, the light from the opening enabled him to see a little way, but it would not be enough further in. “A low illumination would be helpful sword,” he whispered to Bloodletter.

Bloodletter let out a low sigh, as if it was a lot of effort to comply with such a dullard. Still, a moment later its blade pulsated with a dull red luminescence, casting a b****y coloured shadow around the small cave. Narg advanced further in, treading carefully. The cave opened up to a reasonable size, though it was devoid of anything obviously interesting. Slowly he crept towards the rear where the cavern twisted right.

“Er, Narg,” whispered Bloodletter.

“What is it sword? Be quiet here, there may be creatures nearby.”

“You mean like him?” it whispered, and jerked its tip towards the wall on the left.

Narg jumped backwards, as a figure that had been previously still against the cavern wall stepped out of the shadow.

“Ah, the sword is the more intelligent of the two,” it said.

Narg raised Bloodletter, casting light over the creature, but the low emanations of the blade fazed the Black Elf not at all.

The dark creature was tall and handsome, with an arrogant look on his face. He wore elegant black amour, decorated with golden rings, and a large sword in a sheath slung over his back. Leather leggings were tucked into high boots, also black of course. Indeed the only thing that was not dark was his hair, which was as white as snow, and his long teeth as he smiled.

“Who dares to trespass upon the territory of the Black Elves? I would know thy name before quenching my blade in thy flesh.”

Narg drew himself up. “I am Narg, and I cower before no creature, even those as scuttles in the crevices of holes such as these.”

The Elf scowled. “Thy shall regret those boastful words human. Thy faces Lord Raiden, Baron of the territories of Xxizz in the great under-halls. Now thy should meet Rone - the soul-eater who will be your doom.” So saying he reached over his head and drew his sword. Bloodletter snarled in challenge at the Elf’s Runeblade, a longsword crafted in Night metal using underworld magic, imbued with a tortured soul whose only longing was for blood. The blade moaned an eerie sound, gleaming with black light, and the air between the two weapons sparkled with static magic.

“Time to meet thy god surface crawler,” screamed the Black, and leapt at Narg, who moved forward to meet the assault.

They came together with a crash of metal on metal. Their swords a blur as they attacked and counter-attacked. Bloodletter wailed a low chilling groan, whilst the Dark Elf’s Runeblade made a hissing sound, and both shrieked the sound of tormented souls when they came together.

The Elf was fast, he lunged and twisted, getting past Narg’s guard and leaving a b****y line down his left arm. Narg countered savagely with a high swing that nearly split the Elf’s head in two and would have ended the fight there and then, but a quick duck to the side left the Black’s ear a bloodied stump instead.

“Don’t look so pretty now,” he gasped as they both moved back to evaluate their next move.

The Elf spat at Narg’s face, and Narg jerked right to avoid it. The demi-human moved in with a low thrust and caught Narg on the thigh, opening up another gash. Narg twisted away and swung Bloodletter in a roundhouse s***h to cut the Elf’s forearm in retaliation.

The Black leapt back again, nimble as his kind was. Narg’s follow-up swing missed and he was forced to jump back to avoid the Runeblade gutting him.

They both paused a moment, eyeing each other warily.

“Thy death will be slow and long human,” the Elf sneered. “I will cut thy balls off, roast them and feed them to thee as my demon-slaves eat the skin from thy still living body.”

“Ha! Then I would have a good last meal,” retorted Narg, goading the Elf into another shrieking attack. The Runesword swung up high, and then down hard and fast. Bloodletter rose and blocked it, and both blades screamed in agony as their magical energies fought for dominance. Sparks and small bolts of lightning flew around the cave, creating a spectacular light show.

As the two combatants struggled to push the other away, the Elf kicked at Narg’s knee. Narg blocked with his own leg and brought his foot up to kick the elf between the legs. He got in a glancing blow as the Elf did a standing back-flip to escape the attack.

“Fancy,” spat Narg and lunged, spearing Bloodletter forward without warning. The Elf parried, but even so Narg’s sword shouted in glee as he drew dark blood from the Black’s side.

Narg had to withdraw to avoid the Runeblade spitting him, but the Black did not follow, instead staggering back holding his wound.

Narg chuckled. He lifted Bloodletter and took a long slow lick of the blood from the blade.

“I will taste more yet,” he grinned, a wide and evil smile, showing red teeth. “It shall be I who does the skinning, night creature.” Thus saying he launched himself forward again, Bloodletter shedding dark drops as it flew through the air.

The Elf blocked with his Runeblade, but he was weakened, and Narg pushed forward relentlessly, attacking like a man possessed, forcing the Elf to give ground. Suddenly the Black realized Narg was pushing him back towards the cave entrance. With the strength of desperation he fought back, both fighters no longer taunting, but putting all their strength into trying to simply gut each other.

The Elf was good, and he had the Runeblade, but the injury was telling and as he neared the entrance of the cave the daylight started to bite. Smoke began to rise from his back, and he screamed in anger and agony as he threw himself at his hated enemy, giving Narg another cut on his arm. Narg snarled, blood dripping down his chin and from his wounds, but he gave no ground and booted the Black in the stomach hard, kicking him clean out of the cave.

Elf and Runeblade both gave off piercing shrieks as the dreaded sunlight bit into them. The soul trapped in the sword howled and belched black fire as its unlife was stripped away. The Black suffered a similar fate. Dropping the smouldering blade he fell to his knees. The dark skin on his face boiled and bubbled, his eyes glazed white and slowly melted, running out of their sockets. His hands clutched at his ruined face, but these too were turning black, slowly crumbling. One fell off completely and lay writhing on the ground with a dying life of its own.

The sun blazed down relentlessly, and the elf fell backwards. A cloying smell of burning flesh filled the air as his skin burned and peeled off. Still he writhed, his n***d skull faced the sky, and his throat made gargling noises as the jaw fell away. Slowly his smoking body moved less, and eventually lay still.

Narg, who had been leaning on Bloodletter and watching, approached cautiously, sword held in front of him. With one swift movement he kicked the skull as hard as he could, splattering fried brains over the leafy floor and his boot. The remnants of the skull flew into the forest, hit a tree with a dull thud and shattered, leaving a grey and red smear on the trunk.

“Hmf” grunted Narg. He spat blood, cleaned and sheathed Bloodletter, and took a piss on the corpse.