The Chronicles of Outsider: Humble Beginnings

by Justin Wayne

  ***

  The day passed by in a slow motion blur. While every moment seemed to drag on for an eternity, they were far between and seemed to skip. Trying to remember what had transpired; Thom found several discrepancies and blank spots in his memory. When asked, Merlon and Outsider too, found it to be full of empty lengths of time. Merlon assured them it was just nerves.

  So the hobbit busied himself making sure the fire was kept going, the horses didn’t stray, not that Jiff ever did, and practicing with his axe. By the time the sun was beginning to dip behind the mountain pass he was full of adrenaline and nothing but ready.

  Even the cold pit of fear within his stomach wasn’t enough to quench the fire of his resolve. But the waiting anxiety still proved to be the worst part. Thom squirmed uncomfortably as the feeling of spiders crawling up his back caused shivers down his spine.

  “When’re we getting out of here?” he complained and fell back, kicking his feet. Merlon looked sidelong at him and laughed a short bark. “Since when’ve you been in such a hurry to fight? ‘Specially orcs?”

  “Since sitting here waiting just a couple hundred yards away has proven the worse.” Nodding, the dwarf sat beside him and continued sharpening his axion. Thom eyed him helplessly. “What do you do to pass the time?” The dwarf motioned to the weapon in his hand and scraped the whetstone down its length whistling.

  Thom watched him hone the already razor edge then pulled his own axe from his bag. The now-shortened oak handle was already rubbed smooth from years of use and the blade was darkened from age, however it was free of rust and responded phenomenally to being sharpened with the chunk of whetstone he was given. Before long, the keen edge was scintillating against the aged backdrop of the rest of the axe.

  Merlon and Thom were both working away when Outsider descended the hill so quietly they didn’t know he was there until he spoke. “It’s time.” The others jumped. “The sun’s nearly set and already the shadows grow long. You two stay back from the light, close enough to see clearly, until I call you.”

  The dwarf jumped to his feet. “Ye’ mean to keep all the fightin’ to yerself ye’ do!” he accused with a stubby finger pointed the elf’s way. “I’m not one for sittin’ by while me friends are in danger.”

  The elf laughed. “Danger? It’s dusk, good dwarf, and night is the time my people are born into and live their entire lives within.” His blades appeared in his hands suddenly then vanished just as quickly. “Keep your heads down and stay below the horizon line else your silhouettes will be visible. Just follow me.”

  Silently, a few minutes later, the group made their way across the dark plain slowly with only Outsider having to crouch to stay below the skyline. The shadows had grown long from the west; stretching from the mountains and past their campsite. They made their way forward at an angle to avoid coming into the center of the ring of firelight and instead opted to come at them from the right, where the smallest numbers of orcs were grouped.

  The experienced sleuth motioned for the fighter and thief to remain where they were then continued ahead alone. He took a knee and reached into the pack he wore and removed three lengths of mahogany and a small pouch. The thickest strut was the handle to a bow, strong and solid in his grip. The other two were the limbs, supple and flexible which locked into place and were bolted in with the pouch of screws. Hooking the bow over his right ankle, angled between his legs, and bending it over his left leg, he strung the recurve bow and tested the pull experimentally.

  Nodding at its weight and security, he pulled back the flap on his pack to keep it open, strapped it on even tighter, and reached into it. A black arrow with eagle fletching was clipped onto the string with a barely audible snap as the nock took hold.

  “Let’s see if I remember how to do this.” he murmured and drew back steadily as he inhaled. His back muscles flexed under the sixty pound pull and his chest tightened.

  He leaned his head to the side slightly, to see around the arrow, and shifted his vision into the dark spectrum. Four orcs were gathered around the fire and were happily munching on something between swapping stories. He eyed the length of the arrow shaft and aligned it with the orc farthest to the left of the group, hardly in the light at all.

  He let loose.

  The arrow flew with a twang and buried itself in the orc’s neck. With a jolt the beast grasped at its throat, unable to speak and fell over. The nearest orc looked over just as a second arrow found its mark in its chest, puncturing a lung. The last two were in the middle of an argument and miraculously didn’t notice their number being halved.

  “It was this big I tells ya!” The closer of the two cried and held his green hand over his head. “Taller than me an you together!”

  The other shook his ugly head and opened his mouth to speak when an arrow passed through his gullet and protruded from the back of his neck; all after passing through the first speaker’s eye.

  Outsider stopped, looked down at the bow in his hands, back to the two orcs dropped with a single arrow, and shrugged. “Damn.”

  “Damn.” Thom and Merlon said in unison on the other side of the ring of fire. Merlon took heart at the fact it was hard to see, even with his own dark vision, and he would have missed it if he hadn’t known what he was looking for.

  The hobbit instead grimaced at the grisly sight and shuddered. “Glad he’s on our side.” Merlon nodded wholeheartedly. They squinted their eyes in an attempt to watch his movement to the next fire but soon lost him as the darkness deepened and his camouflage, both external and natural, blended into the background seamlessly.

  Instead they simply watched the forms of orcs disappear from view as he made progress through the defended encampment. One by one they slipped from the firelight into the dark, striking a grim pose for their last instant within the lights as the arrows struck home. But before long one of the groups burst into action, calling out warnings and taking up their weapons with a roar.

  "We got missing sentries! Anybody see 'em?" one of them hollered and lit up a torch. The others followed gathered around their fires to follow suit.

  Outsider reached into his pack and impaled a small pouch tied tightly into a ball on the end of an arrow. He pulled it back as the orcs threw extra firewood on to maximize visibility. Others ran from their posts to defend the side they knew to be attacked. Then the rigged arrow flew into the enlarged fire casting up sparks.

  Flames engulfed the mass of orcs and spread out in a cloud as it exploded violently. Bodies were tossed about like ragdolls and coated in writhing tendrils of pure heat. The sudden change in atmosphere was shocking as night became day and the air filled with acrid smoke.

  The inferno quickly spread, casting an immense glow about the area and revealing Outsider’s position to the enraged force he faced. But he was prepared and readily made the sacrifice of stealth. He hid his face from the intense light with his hood and barreled off behind the boulder he had spotted earlier, sliding into cover just as a spear bounced off the rock.

  Thom looked to Merlon with his hand held up to shield his eyes. “Think that was the sign?”

  Merlon shrugged and picked up his axion. “Sure.”

  And with that they stormed into the offside, striking the backs of the unaware orcs who were busy watching the elf’s last location and throwing rocks. The dwarf’s heavy axion cleaved its way through two of the beasts and Thom’s axe a third before they realized they were being attacked.

  The force turned upon the two little fighters and started to spread their forces out to surround them. But Merlon was no novice and backpedalled, dragging Thom along, to stand behind one of the fires. Then he tossed in one of the bundles he was given by the elf and took off running with the hobbit as it exploded just as the previous arrow.

  The orcs who had been pursuing them were caught in the ensuing firestorm. Blasted apart and off their feet, their numbers were scattered and without command.