A Tale Chapter Two written by Joat

A Tale Chapter Two

As Joat sat at the edge of the forest next to the elf, he looked at his home. The home he had lived in peacefully all his life and that was now threatened. Tears blurred his vision as he thought of what could happen to his home and family. He thought of what had already happened to his father. It seemed like too much of a coincidence that, on the day of his father's death, there was to be an invasion. Obviously, his father had been targeted before the attack for some reason. As the tears ran down his face, Joat looked across the field again to his home. He wept for the pain they would all have to endure, and he wept for his father. He wept for the pain his mother would feel and he wept for his sister who would never remember the honorable man who had raised them. Most of all he wept for his broken heart.

Unexpectedly, Joat felt a hand on his shoulder. He quickly wiped away his tears and snuffled his nose as the elf sat beside him.

"You know lad", he began, "I lost my father when I was young. He was killed in a battle with the orcs who invaded 30 years ago. They said he was the greatest elven archer in these lands, and the orcs knew that. They charged the contingent of archers he led on a ridge overlooking the battlefield. They took amazing losses to kill him. As they pressed up the ridge, the militia and pikemen slaughtered them by the hundreds and they just kept coming. They took the losses without even fighting back. They wanted my father and his archers. They were the real threat. Finally after taking thousands of losses and losing three commanders to my father's bow, they over ran them. They slaughtered them with superior numbers and pure viciousness. They ripped their bodies apart and carried them back as prizes, and I had to watch from the scryying mirror in my home. I saw them take his head and parade it around on a stick like some lifeless puppet. I saw them make his intestines into a necklace with his ears for decoration. I saw them dishonor his body and I vowed revenge. Now they have returned and I will have my revenge. Now I am grown, and now I will kill them all alone if I must." Surprised by the vehemence of his own voice, Nuil looked down sheepishly. "Anyway, what I'm saying is that you can't give in to the sorrow. You have to carry on, your family needs you, and your father needs you to avenge his death. If you give up then your family is as good as dead and your father will be forgotten. So, get up and let's get you home."

Nodding and wiping his eyes once again, Joat rose from his seat and again looked across the field to his house. This time, however, he noticed that something was amiss. The smoke wasn't rising from the chimney and the barn door was open. His mother would never have let the fire die on a wet day like today and no one would have left the barn door open. All they had of value was in that barn.

Suddenly concerned, Joat began to run across the field to the house. As he drew nearer, he noticed more things out of place. The front door was open. The dogs didn't run out to greet him. Everything was oddly silent. Then, as he looked through a window on the side of house, he saw a flash of white and an obscenely grinning face. Shocked, Joat merely stared at the undead creature on the other side of the glass. Then slowly the skeleton raised its hand and held it before Joat's face. Without warning, the hand burst through the glass and grasped Joat by the throat. Joat beat on the arm as his consciousness failed him but the skeleton simply continued to grin. Abruptly the pressure on his throat vanished and Joat fell to the ground. Beside him lay the arm of the skeleton and imbedded in the wall next to him was an arrow shot from the elf who stood 20 yards away.

Undaunted by the loss of his arm, the skeleton began to climb through the window towards Joat. Nuil calmly drew another arrow from his quiver and began to aim at the heart, or rather where the heart would be, of the skeleton. Joat, meanwhile, quickly crawled backward as the shambling skeleton approached. Just as it trapped Joat against the wall of the barn, Nuil released his arrow towards the skeleton. The arrow hit the skeleton between the 5th and 6th ribs and stuck... in nothing. It merely hovered in the area where its heart would have been. The skeleton, meanwhile, tilted its head back in a soundless scream. A shadowy figure seemed to separate from the skeleton and drift upward for a moment. Then abruptly, as if the spirit had found its bearings, it shot off towards the south. Meanwhile, the lifeless corpse crumpled into a bleached white pile of bones.

Stunned by the sudden change in circumstances, Joat sat staring unbelievingly at the pile of bones next to him.

"Come on boy." Nuil hissed. "There's bound to be more than one around here."

Joat looked up at the elf in horror. "Hu, how did you do that?" he asked.

"It's a silver tipped arrow. One of the few things that kills undead beings. The mage of this realm had them passed out to all the archer companies. Now get up and let's go!"

Clumsily, Joat rose from the ground and began to follow the elf along the wall of the home. Slowly, they rounded the corner of the house and approached the front door. Looking into the dimly lit interior, Joat could see nothing but felt that something was amiss. Squinting to try and see what had happened to his home, Joat peered into the house. Abruptly, the sun broke through the ominous cloud that had been looming all-day and light flooded the room. There, on the floor of the room, lay Joat's mother and sister. A pool of blood had spread out from his mother's head, forming a halo of crimson fluid about her. With a cry of dismay, Joat rushed into the room only to be grabbed by the collar by another shambling skeleton. The skeleton threw Joat down on the ground behind him while he concentrated on grabbing Nuil, who had evaded his grasp.

As Joat looked up, he saw three dimly lit figures in the room. Two of the skeletons were pursuing Nuil around the room, not leaving him enough time to draw an arrow. The third skeleton stood above Joat staring with that obscene grin at the action unfolding before him. It was obvious that it was only a matter of time before Nuil was caught. Joat was apparently judged to be a minor threat, as his "guard" didn't even bother to look at him.

Seeing an opportunity to repay Nuil for saving his life, Joat looked about for an appropriate weapon. The only thing in reach that might be appropriate was a blunt kitchen knife and Joat doubted that would be of any use against these monstrosities.

Glancing back over to see how Nuil was faring, Joat was disturbed to find that he would soon have nowhere else to run from the skeletons. They had him trapped in a corner and were methodically bearing down on him. Desperately, Joat cast about for a weapon. Grabbing a chair, he swung it powerfully against the skeleton standing over him. The chair shattered and the skeleton fell to the ground, but the skeleton simply got up and looked at Joat as if it couldn't believe that Joat had done such a thing. Then slowly, as if it had come to terms with the attack, it began to move towards Joat. Desperate once again, Joat looked around for another weapon. As nothing presented itself, he looked at the two legs of the chair remaining in his hands. Suddenly a thought occurred to him. Joat brought one leg of the chair perpendicular to the other, forming a cross in front of him.

Nuil, who had been concentrating on the problem of the skeleton's bearing down on him, looked over to see Joat about to try and protect himself with a cross. Dismayed, he called out, "Joat, stop! That only works..." Joat thrust the cross in front of the face of the skeleton, who immediately released a soundless scream and backpedaled. "... if the cross is blessed by a priest." Nuil trailed off.

Seizing his moment of distraction, the skeletons closed in on Nuil and grabbed him. Joat, having warded off his guard, immediately rushed to Nuil's aid. Joat quickly interposed the cross between Nuil and the skeletons and held them at bay while Nuil drew three silver tipped arrows and shot one into each of the skeletons. Each skeleton, in turn, screamed, had a spirit depart from them, and expired into a pile of bones.

Joat slumped back against the wall, exhausted from the excitement. In the meantime, Nuil walked over and inspected the corpses of the skeletons. After pushing the bones around with the toe of his boot, Nuil was apparently satisfied and moved on to the homemade cross Joat had made. He stared at it for several long moments before finally putting it in his belt.

Finally, the short elf turned back to Joat and began to speak. However, so shocked by what he saw was he that he never got any words out.

There stood Joat, next to the bodies of his mother and sister, standing tall and proud. Perhaps it was a trick of the light but Nuil was stunned by how manlike the youth looked. Joat stood stiffly erect as he gazed down at the bodies of the family he had known all his life. His eyes darkened from their normal hazel into dark gray, almost black. Then, slowly a single tear ran down his face and the spell was broken. He was, once again, just a boy who no longer had a family. He was a thing to be pitied, not a thing to fear.

Written by Joat

A Tale Chapter One A Tale Chapter Three

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