Short Story Kalegen -
The Raven and the Hawk.
"You're getting slower old man," The taunt didnt sting, or draw what Nathaniel wanted out from the man who stood opposite him along the banks of the river Forks, its cool running water was deep and the stones beneath worn smooth it its depths. There had been a nearby bridge once, now merely cobblestones and ruins remained. Here on the banks they had cornered one of the few last dark steel Ravens attempting to flee. They didnt want the wittnesses of House Denmar not paying for debts to the warband and instead, ensured that they died in the battle or died at their hands.
Eight Darksteel Raven feathers hung from the mans belt like trophies. Eight damascus steel wings that glinted in the light - eight souls cut short by his own blade and now the former commander stood - his was the feather that would be added to his collection. Kalegen and others had been forced to flee the battlefield - pursued by those who had formerly been allies and had been held back from the counter charge leaving the Ravens flanked and outnumbered. Over half an hour they had held, waiting only to see the calvary waiting as they were cut down and as they eventually broke - the horses were set upon them and the enemy.
Each man here was dressed in platemail, tabards over their house and gilded helm. Even Nathaniel, dressed in warplate knew well. A large long bow in his hoses saddle and arrows, what better than to hunt the Dark Steel Ravens with. He had plans to make a necklace out of it, like a hunter hanging trophies on a wall. Nathaniel had never liked Kalegen, the man was too quiet and only vocal when time needed it. Respected by his men and also knowing each of those under his command, the fact that they had held out this long was thanks to Kalegens quick thinking. Still, Kalegen wasnt wearing steel armour, merely mail of some other foreign kind and a weapon unfit to get past its defences. Eight men had come with him for this hunt and now they had him cornered.
Not only was he not of this land - he was different from those here and that - especially brought out his ire and disgust for something that looked Elizabethian and was far removed from it. "You are full of your arrogance that it suffocates what little witt you have left." Came Kalegens retort. His voice flat and hoarse. Lights danced in his vision, dizziness and blurred vision were the brief signs of something of his gift that had been used a touch too much and it caused him to blind frequently to try and clear his vision. But what better than going out and taking many with him, gods be damned, they had done nothing for him and he would not dare pray for their mercy. Lowering his blade bringing the blade to a low guard at his left- the remaining eight soldiers had formed a half circle and had cornered him near a embankment of the river - while he'd been able to cross easily alone with a small swim - it was almost ankle deep here and perfect for what he needed. These men were heavily armoured - so he moved feeling the icy cold water sink into his boots bringing his focus back and distract him from the ache growing behind his eyes. Like wolves seeking a worn down deer - they followed eager for blood and percieved victory. Here there was no highground.
"What name is Kalegen anyway, for someone who is a commander of now a warband of dead men. Still, would be a great story to tell to a whore I have to warm my bed."
The first to attack wasn't Nathaniel - he waited from above - watching his men do the work, but the first came in, stumbling over a unseen rock beneath the water and in those precious moments he made his move, taking the first of the wolves as his blade cut up and through the mans sword arm above the elbow in a sweeping motion and up through the mans neck. Those dark waters ran red and once more his vision was clouded by a cascading waterfall of stars and dancing lights. Another came in and muscle memory kicking in as the lights passed - taking another blade, capturing it with a locked blade and pivoting throwing him into the water, observing of despite being only a bit deep, the man floundered and began to drown. Now the others didnt wait and advanced. They weren't going to wait for one at a time to go down, as they moved to surround them the terrain was at their disadvantage and he kept moving back, deeper and despite wearing less armour - noticing well as their weight made them unsteady. So some became smart - trying to push him to shore - a mistake others paid dearly for.
A number of lucky cuts had already bitten deep into his left forarm below the elbow, rendering it useless - his fingers limp until he could see a healer to tend to the wound. His fingers felt taught, unable to be flexed into an open palm. No worry, for now he had a fist lockled that couldnt or wouldnt come undone. Of Eight men who had come with Nathaniel, three were dead, two were sporting grevious wounds either to one of their legs and Nathaniel was growing more and more enraged that the numbers were not working in his favor - but the cold was now starting to seep into Kalegens bones - making him indeed slower. "How many bodies are going to be at your feet before you face me Nathaniel, you said I was slow - but I wonder how you are going to explain how eight men died under your command against one." Kalegens smile was blood stained, as another advanced the water made the man slower and he punished the foe for it. A lucky strike that went between the mans armour at the middle and his tasset armour as he moved further up the bank but used the nearby tree as a way to defend and block one side, effectivly disembowling the man. Over the mans wails the other wolves broke, giving up the attack - both frustrated fron Nathaniels berrating and the loss of morale, as a mercy Kalegen ended the one he'd disembowled. Nathaniel was who he was after, these were just men under his command.
"Just you and me now, going to get from your horse?" Nathaniel did but took with him his bow, notching an arrow.
Nathaniel was a man who had short black ashen hair, pale skin, sharp green eyes and angled features - some would call handsome - while the man was his nature was that of someone of narcisitic behaviours much like those who had once enslaved his people. Kalegen was indeed getting slower - small cramps niggled at his shoulders - a nausia caused what stamina he had to flounder and breath come in hoarse rasps. There had been a reason why - what better than to kill a Raven who was not fresh and ready. Instead of drawing a sword, the man took up a long bow. "At this range, what better than to kill a Raven with a bow." As the man let loose the arrow time slowed to an almost nightmarish crawl, the arrow was comming too fast and he hadnt the strength or speed to block it, so he spun from the arrow, feeling its head cut up along his shoulder of his good arm as it narrowly missed causing a hiss of pain and a hot sensation as blood began to dribble down along his arm.
Nathaniels expressure turned from annoyed to confused - then to enraged as each arrow merely cut but missed its mark. Each time Kalegen advanced, it was harder and harder to dodge the arrow in flight. Ducking - nose bleeding and eyes bloodshot as he closed the distance - that blade ignighted into white flame momentarily blinding him and what Nathaniel saw like a spear cut through his bravery and deep into his heart. The man was deathly pale, his veins showing against his skin and eyes as bloodshot as many man from a strangling. He didnt feel the blade cut up and through his breastplate as if it were made of butter, only the thunderclap of sudden ringing in his ears and an expression of confusion as the man moved past, took three steps then convulsed before rolling into the river to be carried down stream.For him, he fell backwards, not feeling his legs as his body came apart or the sound of sizzling skin only the numbing sensation of shock.
"The fuck." Were his last dying words. With no one else to hear them - except the carrion birds overhead. Nathaniel the Hawk died. [/ISPOILER]
