The warriorís mind raced as he parried the powerful stroke of the Orc Captain. With practiced motion the instinctive muscle memory of years of training placed his blade at just the right angle to deflect the incoming steely attack. His mind processed what was now the fifteenth stroke of their engagement and suddenly, as he always found in battle, a pattern of the attackerís sword strokes began to emerge. His adversary bodies tensed and its eyes flicked for a just a brief moment towards his right. The warrior smiled inwardly as he recognized what was the beginning of a previous attack pattern and as quickly as he was aware of this he began to set in motion his own defensive response which would lead to a swift and decisive counter attack. Step ... Step ... Shield block ... Parry ... and then as he suspected the opening he had seen was there for the taking. Instead of his last cycleís defensive response he pivoted aggressively and began the sword stroke for what should be the killing blow. His emotions raced and adrenalin flowed as he anticipated what would happen next, and he wondered in that brief moment before the sword stroked landed if his advisory even realized that he was dead on his feet...

The flag of house Lok-ri waved steadily over the main temporary enclosure "Tent" was too primitive a word to describe the brightly sown fabrics and fine delicate embroidery that created the shelters exterior, yet none the less that was what it was. Inside the enclosure the jewels, magics, and tomes of learning rested in their various storage trunks and vessels while outside the guard of honor watched over their precious stores. Vorgen Lok-ri and the Inner Council of House Lok-ri having brought their fine company of kinsmen to the shores of Azaroth to make what they would of the spoils of this world brought just a few precious things with them as a way to unite and guide their kinsmen. Though House Lok-ri was more then just ... things ... some of its identity was tied closely to these treasures. Spoils of previous battles won and objects to rally around in times of need or emergency. Most treasured of all, a globe of purest water brought from the shard of death, said to be the distilled essence of Lok-ri himself and used by the jewel of the house and her visionaries and sooth sayers as a way to see both the future and the past. If any item held the soul of House lok-ri, what was good and noble, and represented what differentiated and set the house above all others it was contained in the vessel, Riíear Pmin ... the seas will... Rarely spoken off but often used this vessel brought the house closer together and bound it in ways that others would not recognize or wish to emulate. Riíear Pmin was indeed used in ever walk of life for the house and a prized possession of the highest order.

The Orc captainís raid was going well as several of these upstart elves where now dead outside their all too "pretty" elven enclosure. All indeed as expected, up until now, this dam elf warrior fought like the devil himself and his other raiders where similarly engaged with what appeared to be some sort of elven elite guard. It was going to take a special trick to defeat this wily one. But the captain too was a warrior and had indeed seen many fights. Raised in a world of kill or be killed his skill and experience was weaned on the teat of both Alliance and Orcs that he had defeated thought the years to rise up to his current standing. No "pretty" elven warrior guarding "pretty" elven treasure was going to stand in his way. He would have their precious treasure and their way of life destroyed. No more noble words or deeds need come form these ... just another Alliance rabble, no different from any other. Ahhhh a feint will do the trick, he thought, and inside his dark head he laughed a full and vicious laugh. He began to repeat his opening attack sequence. Lets see that pretty elven blood on my sword master warrior.

... and then as quickly as the opening was shown to the elven warrior it closed. To late he realizes the trap that had been set ... to late he tries to continue his aggressive pivot in hopes of achieving some defensible position ... to late he realizes he has exposed a small portion of his weaker rear flank armor ... to soon he feels the shock wave of contact and the searing pain of steel in his flanks ... to soon he realizes that the expert stroke has take him between his ribs and pierced a vital organ ... to soon he falls to the ground unable to defend himself and his kinsmen ... all to soon the glorious adrenalin rush of victory turns to the painful process of death and reincarnation.

The final sword strokes of the battle quickly peter out and the Orc Captain is pleased to see that most of his raiding party are still alive. More warm bodies means more loot to haul away from these ... elves.

"Loot up boys! These skinny runts donít deserve this fine stuff."

The enclosure fills with the sound of rough laughter followed quickly by the sounds of the looting frenzy which begins in earnest.

"3 minutes boys and hurry! We gots other elves and alliance rabble to kill before this raid is done."

The Captain glances around the enclosure as his crew grabs anything in sight that appears to be of value, one of his men evens opens a box with a strange globe of what looks like water in it.

"Take it boys ... take it all! If these pretty skinny boys donít value it we will."

Another ripple of laughs and chuckles sounds thought out the elven enclosure. Itís then that the Captain notices his fine warrior foe has propped himself up with what little strength remains and is glaring directly at him. He strides across the room with a satisfied smile on his face and kneels down next to the warrior.

"See that pretty boy ... I skewered ya good and proper ... like a dragonkin kabob!"

"You and your kind think your different ... think your bettern all us, but its not me thatís visiting the graveyard ... its you now ... your no different then any other alliance I ever fought ... and killed ... nothing special about you and your lot ... just another stop on me way to treasure and glory!"

And with that the Captain stands and strides out of the enclosure followed closely by his raiding party. The warrior closes his eyes and his spirit shifts away leaving his now cold body motionless in the enclosure. That which the Lok- ri had value so highly

... now gone.
Updated Feb 2006
Copy write Scott Lindquist