El-Vador's Travels (38 page)

Rising
to his feet, El-Vador was careful to avoid the dim illumination lest
he be spotted by whatever was above.

Staring
up at the near-blinding luminescence he saw a small cage slowly being
descended on a large chain. Its occupant, clearly unwilling to be
part of this, was howling up at the hatch from which he was being
lowered but otherwise made no further attempts to escape his fate.

But
where one man may have seen a grisly death, El-Vador saw an
opportunity. He need just negotiate passage from what was undoubtedly
meant to be the victim of the monster he had dispatched hours before.
Then he could either ride the cage up to the top and spring a
surprise upon whoever raised him into the inside of the burrow, if
that was truly where this led, or climb the chain should the cage not
be pulled up.

The
chain continued to lower the cage further toward the lake, then
ceased altogether with a jerk that sent the occupant flying forward.
The frantic Orc scrabbled at the bars to maintain his hold on the
cage as his legs splashed into the centre of the lake, sending
panicked ripples racing over the surface. So focused was this
would-be offering to the beast that he had not seen the Elf staring
at him from the shadows, waiting this prey's next move to come about.

There
was no movement from the cage though, the Orc simply sat there
gibbering to itself, or himself, El-Vador wasn't entirely sure
whether he could consider these beasts worthy of personalisation.

He
tested his footing gingerly, wincing as he placed weight upon the leg
that the creature had tried to snap like so much kindling. He had
dispatched of the beast but it had not come without a price, how was
he meant to best a burrow full of Orcs if he could barely stand?

Something
within urged him onward, he couldn't distinguish whether it was a
subtle manipulation from the voice or some semblance of his own
resolve in the matter controlling him. Right now he needed to deal
with the Orc in the cage, the grander scheme could wait.

Creeping
as silently as possible with an injured leg toward the edge of the
lake and past the hulking corpse of the monstrosity, he stared out
across the expanse of water and pondered how to cross without
detection.

The
figure in the cage moaned quietly to himself, cursing his misfortune
with a guttural string of curses aimed at both the grate above and
the water beneath him that rose in volume and defiance as they
continued.

El-Vador
knew that the captive was expecting something to come arcing through
the water at him and would most likely be prepared to inflict lethal
force upon anything approaching his cage. This made the idea of
swimming out to him seem decidedly foolish, but there seemed no other
way to reach the cage.

Then
again, there were no ethical implications to weigh here. This was an
Orc he was dealing with, and with that solid basis to work upon,
El-Vador's plan became apparent. He crept back to a safer distance
once more and set it in motion.

'The
water is safe.' he called out across the lake in a disused and broken
form of Orcish, causing the figure to turn his head in shock at the
sound.

'Who
goes there? What of the beast in the waters?' the Orc replied, his
throat hoarse from his cursing.

'The
beast has been slain, you may swim over and join me, I can show you
the tunnel out of here that leads to safety.' El-Vador replied,
dangling the faint hope over the doomed Orc's head and very carefully
omitting an introduction.

A
splash was the response he received, followed by a series of strong
strokes that took the Orc to the edge of the lake from which he had
heard the voice. The Orc's hearing was acute as demonstrated by his
clambering out of the lake wet and dripping directly in front of
El-Vador's sight.

He
had no eyes for the Elf though, instead his sight was locked on the
corpse of the beast, gazing at it in wonder and disbelief as it lay
there unmoving.

'If
you are truly the one who has slain the lake beast and I am not in
fact dreaming or dead, I owe you a debt of gratitude.' the Orc
finally said, peering in the direction of the Elf and clearly
struggling to see him. El-Vador took a few quiet steps back just in
case he proved visible, the Orc appeared to have a limited degree of
night vision.

'Who
are you?' the Orc asked again, though it was worded in a manner that
brooked no evasion. 'I would look upon the face of my saviour to
thank him.'

'I
am no saviour.' El-Vador muttered in return, carefully loosening the
bow from his back and breathing a faint sigh of relief when he
discovered it remained intact. He reached up into his quiver and soon
felt the tactile reassurance of a nocked arrow between his drawing
fingers. 'Tell me where that grate leads, now.'

The
Orc must have heard the tightening of the string as it was drawn, for
he stayed rooted to the spot and made no sudden movements or
gestures. 'The grate above leads into the prisons of the burrow, why
would you ask such a thing?'

'I
don't recall being open to questioning.' the Elf replied swiftly,
tightening his draw just enough to be audible. 'When will the guards
raise the cage again?'

His
target shrugged, fear clearly in his eyes now at the prospect of
dying should he not know the correct answer. 'I swear to you, I do
not know, I've never been down here before. Nobody comes to this
cavern and lives to tell the tale!'

El-Vador
shrugged. 'Then you are of no further use to me.'

'Please,
just let me go. You don't even need to show me the way, I'll just
leave you to climb into the burrow undetected, I swear to you!' the
Orc wailed, tears streaming down its face as it sank to its knees in
supplication.

He
would not offer this creature mercy though, had the positions been
reversed he knew it would not do the same.

'I
have a family!' it finally cried, as if this last emotional gambit
would stay the execution.

'So
did I.' the Elf replied, and released the arrow deep into the Orc's
skull.

The
divisive nature of my societal opposition has often aided me. The
village of my youth may have been a community but it is such a
distant memory that I can barely cling to the recollection of it. The
vast cities and great constructs I have witnessed often hinge upon
barely sociable conduct, once that starts to crumble the destruction
is inevitable.

E
l-Vador's
arms were aching when he was finally able to reach the grating.
Climbing had not been easy with his wounded leg and his upper body
had been sorely tested as his aching muscles chose now to remind him
of the struggle with the monster below.

He
wrapped his unused legs around the chain that suspended the cage from
above the lake and comforted himself with the thought that if he were
to fall at least it would not prove fatal.

The
gap between the bars in the grating was not enough to squeeze
through, as he had suspected when he begun his ascent toward them.
His plan was not to slither through like some gutless eel though, an
entirely more apparent way had presented itself now that he had drawn
closer.

Unsheathing
his blade, he swayed unsteadily from the chain and hacked upward with
the flat of the blade, striking the outer bar of the grating with a
shuddering blow that sent chips of rock spiralling down into the
lake. He repeatedly hammered away at the joint, dislodging more and
more detritus until eventually the bar slid out of its own volition
as he prepared for another strike. It struck the cage below with a
clang as he crawled through and into the corridor beyond.

Footsteps
alerted him to the mutterings of a roused guard, clearly his less
than stealthy entrance had caught the attention of another Orc. He
stepped back into the shadows of the poorly lit room and lay in wait
for the incoming adversary, quieting his breathing from the struggle
into the chamber.

The
Orc held aloft a torch, but the shadows it cast were not enough to
save it as El-Vador struck swiftly, lancing the creature's neck with
surgical precision.

He
watched the blood pooling on the floor and wondered if the sound had
carried to any other eager green-skins wishing to meet their fate.
After its presumed comrade didn't return, he heard the same steps of
another Orcish guard. He quickly extinguished the torch and resumed
his position, soon there were two bodies lying upon the floor in
eternal repose, their blood congealing together like entwined crimson
lovers.

Keeping
to the shadows, El-Vador continued down the dark corridor and his
eyes showed him the way. There was a hue of brilliance around
everything he saw that indicated the lack of natural lighting to
guide him, trusting that his eyes would not fail him he continued
deeper into the cavernous structure.

It
soon started to slope downward, the signs of natural cave giving way
to artificially manipulated stone, this became most apparent in the
next room which was brightly lit and played havoc with his previous
sight.

As
his vision cleared, he realised that he was not the sole occupant. By
pressing forth like this and expecting his eyes to adjust
accordingly, he had blundered straight into plain sight of an
armoured figure in repose upon a flat backed chair with his helm
still on.

The
torchlight was far more prominent here than it had been when El-Vador
had dispatched of the previous targets. It glinted off the figure's
impressive armour and sent deep shadows creeping toward the Elf's
feet.

Aware
of the increased visibility and suspect stillness of his foe, he
crept forward slowly and observed that the table was littered with a
series of strange white shavings and tankards of unknown black
liquid. The man hadn't been guarding his post, he had simply got
drunk and fallen asleep. A simple stab through his visor would finish
him long before he woke.

He
raised his blade and judged the distance, he would have to close a
considerable gap for his aim to be true. Should he miss, the ensuing
contact would undoubtedly wake this drunk from his slumber and even
if the man were groggy it wouldn't bode well for the lightly-armoured
Elf in a straight fight.

'I
know what you're thinking,' the voice told him, startling El-Vador
from his scant cover. 'The stupid guard is asleep and now's a chance
to shove my sword in his face.'

The
armoured figure rose and continued to address the intruder. 'I may be
slightly drunk, but that won't stop me from dashing your brains about
this room should I need to.' he said, hefting a blunt-looking mace in
one hand that had appeared from nowhere. 'What say you to that,
silent one?'

El-Vador
stared at the swaying suit of armour. Its slumber had been a ploy,
why not its drunkenness also? Was it goading him into a fight with a
mimicry of inebriation or was the swaying not of its own volition?
Regardless, he had to find a way to get past this hulking guard and
further into the chamber, and the voice that had helped him so many
times before was silent on that matter.

'I
killed the monster in the cavern beneath, and the guards that lowered
the cage, their victim did not escape me either. It would seem that
you require better security.'

The
man brought a gauntleted hand up to his helm with a clank, then
looked down at it in puzzlement. Had the drunken Orc really tried to
stroke its beard in thought with a full set of armour on? This gave
El-Vador some hope, perhaps he could out-smart this creature yet.

'You
have two choices, Elf. Either replace the guards that you dispatched
and execute any poor souls we drag down here, or paint the walls with
your guts with my help.'

El-Vador
stared on with incredulity at the man's proposal, had he really just
been offered a job?

'Why
would you show one such as me any mercy after I dispatched your
comrades?'

The
suit of armour grunted. 'Those two? They weren't much company anyway,
just terrible gamblers and greedy to boot.' It raised its arms to its
helm once more and pulled it off. 'Besides, as you observed once
before, I am no Orc. We meet once again, Elf. I am Captain Salvarius
of the Orcish guard, and it is within my power to offer you gainful
employment should you stop killing my men. Turnabout is fair play,
you spared my life and now I offer to spare yours.'

Again
he had run into this human, it didn't smack of coincidence to
El-Vador, who knew that his life was intrinsically linked to fate by
another creature entirely. No, though the voice had been silent this
was no simple matter of chance. Salvarius was irrevocably linked to
his next action by the simple absence of any voice telling him
otherwise.

'What
makes you think I would trust a human that allies himself with Orcs?
There is nothing stopping you from reporting this to Harg and
bringing the whole burrow to bear upon me.'

The
human shrugged, an impressive feat when covered with so much armour.
'If I wanted you dead for your crimes then I would simply kill you
myself and bring your head to please Harg. No, I'm offering you
something entirely better if you bide your time.'

El-Vador
furrowed his brows. 'Something better than the choice between the
tedium of a prison cell or being battered to death with your mace?'

Salvarius
smiled. 'Is it vengeance upon Harg that you truly desire, or is it
upon the Orcs themselves?'

This
gave El-Vador pause, he had assumed that the human guessed wrong
before, from whence came this epiphany then?

'I
see the look in your eyes, even in these shadows. It merely confirms
what I had already suspected.' Salvarius continued. 'It was never
Harg specifically that you were after, you did not even know of his
name, nor was it the survivors of the north that you wished to
eliminate in retribution for their attack as you thought that none
still lived.'