# Whispers from After (9/14/07)



## Anthelios (Sep 14, 2007)

This is my first attempt at a story hour, or really any written fiction. Please give criticism and or comments, all are welcome.

This story is a re-envisioning of a story I once wrote in high-school for my gaming group. Its not based on a campaign, but I could write up stats for characters, abilities, etc, if people are interested enough.

The Story will mainly focus on the protagonist, Elias Foxpaw, a half-elf with an unusual past.

Enjoy!


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## Anthelios (Sep 14, 2007)

The brilliant gold wings of the creature twittered in the slight breeze, standing out against the vibrant background were patterns of deep crimson and black. The winged creature moved across the window seal slowly, enjoying its moment in the sun.

“Elias! Stop looking out the window and pay attention!” those were the words that snapped Elias’ gaze from the window, to focus on the surly teacher before him. The wizened elf stood before him, holding a leather bound tome clasp in his hands, his dark green eyes flashing in anger at his student.

“Sorry uncle.” Said Elias. Quickly he forgot the butterfly that he had been watching for the last five minutes, and turned his attention on the book set before him. The complex arcane symbols looking as much like gibberish as the day he started his training four years ago.
“It’s master Taurnil while you study, boy. Don’t make me tell you again.” The elf moved from the table to take a seat at his own desk, sorting ancient scrolls and dusty tomes as he searched for the next bit of lore to set before his student.

It’s only an hour before Taurnil looks up from his desk, to see his nephew once more staring out the window. He watches the young half-elf for a moment before he grumbles out, “Fine, go outside. I can see we won’t be making any progress today.”
Elias is out the door in an instant, leaving the nonsense books scattered on the table in his wake. The sunshine is bright as he steps out of the small tree-cottage, and into the village center.

The village was as bustling as ever. Hunters brought in deer and hog over their shoulders, while the women prepared herbs and washed clothing in the small stream that ran through the middle of the village. Children darted between groups of elves, playing a game of catch the squirrel.

Elias drank in the sights, and then moved to the stream for a drink. Kneeling down, he bent over to scoop up a handful of water but took pause at seeing his face. Unlike the other elves of the village, he was different. From his aquamarine eyes to his bright blonde hair, he stood out. His ears were smaller and rounder than the others, and he lacked that ageless look they all seemed to share. He sighed, for it was not only appearance that set him apart. Those children that played those games were older than he, yet already he appeared twice their age.

That’s why he was studying with his uncle to become a wizard. Originally, he had been placed with the other young elves to learn to be a hunter, but his growth made the others uncomfortable. Nor was he as quiet as his cousins and friends; no, he was not like them. So he had to be separated. Yet even in that pursuit he was failing. The complex arcane formula his uncle tried to teach him never seemed to make sense. He could read it, but forming the magic in his mind was just beyond him.

He dips his hand into the water to drink, dispelling the reminder of his isolation. The cool water helps him relax, and forget about the lecture his uncle had given him that day. Elias stands and moves from the stream, avoiding the group of children as he makes his way toward the deeper woods that shelter their village from predators.

                                                    ~*~

Elias climbed the last branch that could support his weight and looked out over the valley before him. He could see the small trails of smoke from the single cooking fire in the village far to the east, and the massive forest in all directions around him.

He had found this tree last summer, while his uncle was away visiting another tribe. He called it his lookout tree. Something about being up so high made him feel secure, stronger than he felt on the ground. The beat of his heart pounding was like a drum, that sent a thrill of exhilaration down his spine. He watched the sun glow to the west, slowly descending toward the earth. The sky burning with hot reds and oranges, reminding him of the butterfly he had seen earlier. Soon he’d have to make his way back to the village, or risk being caught in the dark.

That’s when Elias spots movement in the valley below him. Shadowy figures moving between the trees. _They can’t be hunters_. He thinks to himself. _They would already be back in the village by this time._ Curious, he starts to climb down the tree. Dropping the last five feet and crumpling some as he falls. Quietly he stands and starts creeping toward the place he had last seen the movement.

He pops his head up over a moss covered stump to survey the area, finding the clearing he had seen the movement ahead. No sign, save for the foot prints torn into the mud. He could clearly make out the imprint of a heavy boot. Not elves. As stealthily as he can, he follows the trail of footprints in the earth.

_They’re moving closer to the village._ Are the panicked words that repeat in his head as he follows the trail. Eventually he spots movement ahead and quiets even further. Crouching down and crawling toward a bush. That’s when they come into view.

Towering heads above him, the creatures are massive. Easily taller than any elf he’s ever met. Their bodies covered in thick metal plates is not enough to hide what they are to him. Orcs. He had seen one before brought before the village for trespassing on their lands. The mangled face, gleaming red eyes and wicked tusk like teeth gave them away.

Elias trembles silently in fear when one of the orcs stops. The thing’s helmet is painted white, with deer antlers strapped to the sides and he wears a wolf’s hide across his shoulders. The orc sniffs the air, then turns back toward Elias’ bush. _He sees me!_ the voice in his head cries out, and Elias stands to run.

Elias quickly bolts to the side, only to run head first into another orc. Saliva pouring out of the creatures face as it’s tongue dances between yellow teeth. A metal gauntlet moves too quickly to avoid and sends Elias flying to the ground, his head ringing from the blow.

The orcs quickly surround the dazed half-elf, drawing crudely forged blades and brandishing them forward. Elias looks up to count six of them, his heart pounding in his ears just like when he’s high in the trees. Without thinking he lifts a hand, words spewing from his mouth that he didn’t understand. A flash of light erupts from his fingertips and the orcs let out a resounding scream of pain, all six falling to the ground as fire sprouts across their bodies.

Elias doesn’t wait to see what happens next. He gets to his feet and starts to run, as the orcs flail on the ground to put out the flame. The half-elf wastes little time, running straight toward his village, but one thing nags in his mind as he runs. _That’s not how uncle explained it._


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## Anthelios (Sep 14, 2007)

More to come. Please comment.


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