((OOC information in the next post))
Hiding off the side of the road, the young, newly-minted sentinel held her bow trepidaciously. She'd been warned, perhaps out of sheer honesty, that the training wasn't what it used to be - some had even said that half of new sentinels did not make it out of their first engagement. A few weeks ago, she may have appreciated that honesty, but with mortality hanging over her head like a vulture over a carcass, she would have taken all the fairy stories in the world over the truth.
There was supposed to be a signal, but she didn't see it. Instead, the flaming arrows went up almost in synchronization all of the sudden, hitting different wagons along the caravan as planned. In a hurry, she sprung up to do her part, catching the immediate attention of about six heavily armored Orcs who had been bringing up the rear. She shot at one of them instead and missed horribly. In sheer terror, she dropped the bow and ran. The Orcs weren't far behind.
She'd often recalled watching nightsabers chase down hapless gazelles, but she never thought she'd be in the position of the latter. The Orcs were faster, more numerous, and better armed. In the clearing ahead, she finally turned to face the oncoming attackers as they tore out of the woods. She threw herself out of the way of the first axeswing - a move which was almost predicted by the one with the hammer, who replied with a strike that landed her flat on her back. The wind had been knocked out of her lungs and the glaive out her hand and she knew this was it. The last glimpse she caught was of a very large owl perched on one of the overhanging branches. - Except it wasn't an owl.
The other elf dropped down on two of them, her knife-ridden cloak flapping down unceremoniously down behind her. The other three turned around to see her pull two small knives out of each of her victim's necks, hurling one into the face of one of the Orcs flawlessly, but hitting a tree instead when she attempted to do the same with the other. Regaining her breath, the sentinel on the ground could only watch the ensuing melee, looking on with a sickening reaction building in her stomach to the warden's quick and brutal strikes - a far cry from the elaborate dance that had become almost romanticized in training. Within a few moments, both Orcs were dead - joining a macabre collection of mangled and bleeding corpses.
The sentinel scrambled up, watching the warden as she began to collect things from the corpses, pausing as she shot her a look. "Next time..." The warden started. "Don't try to be elegant... but congratulations, you survived your first engagement... pick some of this armor up, you're going to need it."
"Wait a minute, how do you know this is my first?"
"You were integral to the plan.." The Warden said flatly, rummaging through one of the Orc's bags. "Speaking of which.." She stopped and pulled what looked like a pilfered radio of goblin make out from under her cloak. "Did you get it?"
Another voice, that of a male, came crackling through the radio. "We did. Your little gambit opened a hole in the rear and we walked right in. - Is the recruit still alive?"
"As promised." Kyalin reported back.
"You used me as bait." Muttered the recruit as her eyes widened. "I could have been killed!"
"You were dead the moment you were inducted." Kyalin ever-so-nonchalantly retorted. "With the lessons you learned here today, you might live a little bit longer, but death in combat is the destiny of people like us."
"Warden" The pilfered radio clattered back. "The wood from these axes - they don't come from Ashenvale at all... or anywhere in Kalimdor."
"Are you sure?"
"The druids say they're from Pandaria... Krasarang."
The warden was finally still, shaking her head before she replied. "Get back underground as soon as possible. Take what you can, and we'll meet you there." She stowed the radio back under her cloak, her attention finally landing on the recruit. "Have you ever wanted to see new places?"
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<OOC information below>
Hiding off the side of the road, the young, newly-minted sentinel held her bow trepidaciously. She'd been warned, perhaps out of sheer honesty, that the training wasn't what it used to be - some had even said that half of new sentinels did not make it out of their first engagement. A few weeks ago, she may have appreciated that honesty, but with mortality hanging over her head like a vulture over a carcass, she would have taken all the fairy stories in the world over the truth.
There was supposed to be a signal, but she didn't see it. Instead, the flaming arrows went up almost in synchronization all of the sudden, hitting different wagons along the caravan as planned. In a hurry, she sprung up to do her part, catching the immediate attention of about six heavily armored Orcs who had been bringing up the rear. She shot at one of them instead and missed horribly. In sheer terror, she dropped the bow and ran. The Orcs weren't far behind.
She'd often recalled watching nightsabers chase down hapless gazelles, but she never thought she'd be in the position of the latter. The Orcs were faster, more numerous, and better armed. In the clearing ahead, she finally turned to face the oncoming attackers as they tore out of the woods. She threw herself out of the way of the first axeswing - a move which was almost predicted by the one with the hammer, who replied with a strike that landed her flat on her back. The wind had been knocked out of her lungs and the glaive out her hand and she knew this was it. The last glimpse she caught was of a very large owl perched on one of the overhanging branches. - Except it wasn't an owl.
The other elf dropped down on two of them, her knife-ridden cloak flapping down unceremoniously down behind her. The other three turned around to see her pull two small knives out of each of her victim's necks, hurling one into the face of one of the Orcs flawlessly, but hitting a tree instead when she attempted to do the same with the other. Regaining her breath, the sentinel on the ground could only watch the ensuing melee, looking on with a sickening reaction building in her stomach to the warden's quick and brutal strikes - a far cry from the elaborate dance that had become almost romanticized in training. Within a few moments, both Orcs were dead - joining a macabre collection of mangled and bleeding corpses.
The sentinel scrambled up, watching the warden as she began to collect things from the corpses, pausing as she shot her a look. "Next time..." The warden started. "Don't try to be elegant... but congratulations, you survived your first engagement... pick some of this armor up, you're going to need it."
"Wait a minute, how do you know this is my first?"
"You were integral to the plan.." The Warden said flatly, rummaging through one of the Orc's bags. "Speaking of which.." She stopped and pulled what looked like a pilfered radio of goblin make out from under her cloak. "Did you get it?"
Another voice, that of a male, came crackling through the radio. "We did. Your little gambit opened a hole in the rear and we walked right in. - Is the recruit still alive?"
"As promised." Kyalin reported back.
"You used me as bait." Muttered the recruit as her eyes widened. "I could have been killed!"
"You were dead the moment you were inducted." Kyalin ever-so-nonchalantly retorted. "With the lessons you learned here today, you might live a little bit longer, but death in combat is the destiny of people like us."
"Warden" The pilfered radio clattered back. "The wood from these axes - they don't come from Ashenvale at all... or anywhere in Kalimdor."
"Are you sure?"
"The druids say they're from Pandaria... Krasarang."
The warden was finally still, shaking her head before she replied. "Get back underground as soon as possible. Take what you can, and we'll meet you there." She stowed the radio back under her cloak, her attention finally landing on the recruit. "Have you ever wanted to see new places?"
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<OOC information below>
Edited by Kyalin on 12/12/2012 12:22 PM PST