Dansal Peak

Elarin was walking up the pathway towards the Temple in the highest courtyard of the town. It was eight years on that very day when he had lost his parents. He went there to ‘honour’ the people of Greensward and to ask forgiveness for all his ‘sins’; of what they accused him for not conforming to their rules. In truth he couldn’t care what they said to him or if they liked him at all, for today was a special day, and most of them didn’t understand. After all, ‘nothing comes and disturbs us here, so why should we care orphan!’ Obviously they had no idea what was happening out in reality as they were tucked away and sitting pretty in their little hillside of Greensward. Elarin never liked them much anyway. Walking down the straight pathway towards the huge spire that poked over a thin lining of trees, he passed people who were enjoying their lovely day with their happy families and others that looked distastefully at him. After all, he didn’t belong there. ‘Orphan’. Walking up the red carpeted stairs that led to the front door, he banged loudly upon it. After a few seconds there was a soft thud of the bar being removed, and the door slowly ground on its hinges to reveal the Lord of the town. The ‘High Lord’, as he liked to call himself. Elarin was never sure whether it was him or his apparent problem with authority that led him to hate the man. The ‘High Lord’ was quite frail and over sixty years of age. However, despite this he stood as tall and assertive as ever. Leading Elarin through the chamber, the ‘High lord’ took him to the front where stood an altar, and behind it a large wooden, polished throne. Arrogant as ever, the ‘High Lord’ sat in it without concern, even though it dwarfed his figure. Elarin knelt down in front of the altar and the ‘High Lord’ Marian held his palm high but towards his own face. From it dangled the pendant Elarin’s father had given him, and he stared into its crimson colour. He wasn’t going to oblige even the simplest of requirements for ‘forgiveness’; today was his own day. “You have been charged with releasing two mountain bears and a panther from our grasp” “Well what did you expect me to do, just let the poor creatures be baited and used for your own twisted amusements?” Elarin looked directly into his eyes, and the man looked piercingly back into his, looking annoyed at Elarin and his distinct lack of courtesy. He rose from his chair, walked up to Elarin and backhanded him round the side of his head. “How dare you address me like that!” “Apologies. Lord” Elarin didn’t show any sincerity in his tone and that aggravated Marian even more, as he was forced to accept it due to his apparent display of respect. The charges had been laid on him, and now he waited for his ‘judgement’. Elarin clenched his fist in an attempt to block out the throbbing in his head. He was determined not to give the man any satisfaction by showing the pain he felt from the blow. The man paced a couple of times, staring at Elarin. He was obviously enjoying the moment but Elarin did not yield to him and stared fiercely into his eyes. At last, Marian stopped pacing, seeming to come to his conclusion. “This is the last straw Elarin! This town took you in here and this is how you repay us! You had nowhere to go and we took you in as one of our own!” There was so much Elarin could have said to that, but decided that his opinion was best kept to himself. “I’m afraid boy that one more foot out of line and we have no choice. You will be banished from these lands. I’m sorry, but that is the only choice we have left. Now be gone out of my sight” Elarin left the temple and stood outside for a moment, breathing heavily. Last straw? Not that it mattered much to him. He had nowhere else to go and if banished he would be exiled. he didn’t know what he would do; but it seemed he was the only one punished. Everything else slipped by their nose. After all, he wasn’t from this region so he didn’t belong. Putting on his necklace, he strode along down the pathway. He didn’t get far; only to the pathway beside the training grounds and the arena when he was confronted by four boys. They had obviously just come from sparring training and each carried a long wooden training sword. “Oi! Orphan!” the first shouted. He was obviously the leader of the pack and was a few years or so older than Elarin. The other three were his age, one tall and broad and the other two stocky and slightly short. Seeing them, Elarin nodded in their direction and began walking off again. It wasn’t long before the tall one sprinted past him and blocked his path, smiling at him. Sighing slowly, Elarin turned to face the other three boys. He began to panic slightly but looked the pack leader in the eyes coolly. These days, he had become an expert at masking his fear. “Where do you think you’re going?” “Well away from you is a start my friend, now if you will excuse me-” “I don’t think that’s going to happen!” one of the stocky ones piped up, tapping his weapon against his shoulder rhythmically. Elarin’s heart was slowly beginning to pump faster and faster. He shouldered his way past the tall one and began walking down the road when they began shouting at him again. “Look at that! He’s running off again just like he always does, he can’t face anything! He doesn’t even come to practice anymore because he’s afraid that he’ll get beaten again and again and again. You coward!” Elarin’s heart began beating hard now and he refused to turn around, although he could tell they were close behind, shadowing his footsteps. They would probably beat him again as soon as they got the opportunity; not that anyone would care because they were beating the ‘Orphan boy’ who needed to be reminded of his place now and again. After all he wasn’t one of their own. “Why don’t you go running again! Go home and cry! Wait, you don’t have a home because this place is ours! Go run to your mother!” Elarin suddenly stopped. He had never heard that one before; and of all the days that they could have said it, this one was the worst. Desperately trying to quell the fear and tears inside him, he turned around and as he looked at the boys all he felt and showed was pure anger and hatred. Momentarily, he seemed to look right through them as the visions of watching her die in front of his own eyes came back and haunted him. Once again, they encircled him laughing, and the leader suddenly stood forward. “But you can’t go running to your parents now. Are they dead?” They all burst out laughing at him and the boy said it again louder “They’re dead aren’t they!” “Of course they’re dead!” Elarin shouted this so loud that two birds flew from a tree and all four boys were taken aback. Elarin couldn’t suppress his feelings any longer, and they came flooding out as he let out a cry of pure pain and seething anger. He seized his opportunity and elbowed the tall one in his stomach, which forced him to keel over. As he staggered backwards, Elarin twisted his hips and side-kicked him, then followed with an elbow into the chin. As the boy fell, the other three seemed to come to their senses and raised their sparring swords, with the two stocky ones stepping in front of their master to protect him. As they swung for him Elarin picked up the unconscious boy’s wooden weapon and twirled it around, locking both of the oncoming swords together with his. As he broke his weapon away by flicking his wrist out of the clash, he brought his sword overhead with both hands, striking to the boy at the left. As this was deflected the one behind him attempted to club the side of Elarin’s head, and Elarin flicked his weapon so it was facing down his arm and parried. Flicking it back the right way round again, he used his momentum to twirl around and face them both.