THE IDOL OF THOGARA
AS WRITTEN BY ZOGAR SAG
WITH INTERRUPTIONS BY DAPHNE
-= 1 =-
The messenger stepped cautiously into the small clearing, he was clothed in woodsman's garb with an ash bow on his back, his eyes immediately searched for any signs of danger. The moonlight filtered through the trees overhead, illuminating his face and revealing his elven features. Pausing only briefly, he skirted the open area and moved silently off into the dense foliage on the far side of the clearing. Scarcely seconds later, a full tracking party of orcs emerged, surveying the surrounding area for any signs of passage, they seem to find what they were looking for, they too quickly disappearedfrom sight into the thicket, on the trail of the elf.
The messenger was named Jay-Jay; his mind recalled the events that had transpired on the day before. The elf knew the importance of his mission, to fail would mean the deaths of many, those who he loved and was sworn to protect. The orc armies were on the move, they were mobilizing and emerging from the rock hills where they had lived somewhat peacefully for centuries. Already, they had swept down on several of the outermost settlements, razing entire villages with nye a survivor. Out of the night they came, driven battle-mad by their leaders, they made short work of the few defenses that the elves and men had. The settlements were not used to war, all had been peaceful for generations. Now, possibly to late, the elvish council of the borderlands had chosen to act. A large force consisting of men and elves who had lived their lives in this rough country, who were hardened and survivalists, had been sent westward from Borhaven, to alert the rest of the elvish nation, and to secure the aid of the dwarves. Scarcely hours after they had set off, they were ambushed. After a pitched battle, the band from Borhaven had been slayed to all but the last man, the only survivor was Jay-Jay.
These thoughts flashed through his mind as he raced through the underbrush. At times he could hear the pursuit, others he heard only the wind as he rushed by. He had employed all his cunning, all his tricks to avoid leaving a trail but still, the orc trackers had trailed him. Now he relied on speed alone to reach some outpost in this dreary wood. Even as he ran, as his legs were a blur, he knew his strength was ebbing, he must soon stop or collapse from exhaustion. To stop would mean sure death, the trackers would not pass him by. This thought kept him running when he knew that he had pushed himself as he had never done before. Jay-Jay remembered the fighting the day before against the ambushing orcs; when the battle had turned to the worse, his captain had entrusted him with the scroll from the council; had told him to run as he had never done; and deliver the message to the King of the elves, Jal Zosara.
-= 2 =-
Jal gazed thoughtfully out his chambers high windows. As his gaze absently fixed on the outline of the palace gardener, already busy tending the shrubs and flowers; his mind was on the rumors of a large orc uprising to the east and north in the rock mountains. He had called another council today to discuss the sending of a large force of soldiers to the borderlands. Numerous councils had been called, and each time, the parliament had failed to agree on the course of action to take. Jal had limited power these days, with the elvish state being mainly a democracy. Each time, the council had failed to take action, instead, they had sent messengers and scouts to the frontier outposts. As of yet, none had reported back. Today, Jal decided, he would force the council to open their eyes, he would press harder than ever to gain their support for his plan.
-= 3 =-
As Jay-Jay ran, a new sound brought itself to him, it was the sound of rushing water. He judged that it was slightly to his left and adjusted his course toward it. He could only hope that a village was built near the river. After several minutes of forging through a particularly dense clumb of underbrush, Jay-Jay emerged from the thicket on the bank of a medium-sized creek. Too late! The thought screamed in his mind as the sounds of his pursuers reached his ears, closer than ever, scarcely forty yards behind him. Sighting up and down the creek revealed no hope of safe shelter, he realized this was as far as he would go. But the message must be brought to the king whether he would live or die, "but how?" he thought as the orcs grew nearer. He began to cross at a narrower part so that he could get a clearer shot with his bow at those who pursued him as they emerged from the foliage on the bank behind him. As Jay-Jay crossed, his foot stuck in something and he fell headlong into the icy current. The creek was neither deep nor strong enough to sweep him away; he sat up and pried the object from his foot, he recognized it as a small crawfish trap used by villagers in these parts. An idea formed as he gazed at the trap. Jay-Jay removed the entrusted scroll from his belt and placed it in the trap; closing the sprung door behind it. Then, with a heave he threw it to dry land on the far embankment. He turned downstream, away from the trap and its precious catch. As he did so, the orcs broke from the shelter of the forest. Jay-Jay drew his ash bow in a flash and succeeded in loosing one feathered arrow into the black midst of his enemies before they were upon him.
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