Tasr Staff

Short beginning to another incomplete story i lost interest in. i swore i uploaded this already, but hell, w/e.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ch. I- Lessons Well Taught

 

 

    The sun was high above the sky, casting a thin line of shadow along the wet, grassy hills below. The air was musty and thick, for the high altitude bought confusion to those unready.  The weary sun above seemed to reassure those below, that it’s far away absence would be over soon enough. Black wood elves inhabited these hills.

 

    Darkness creeped over the recessive hills like a scared child with a forbidden secret. Slowly but surely it would devour almost the entire planet Roth, along with the whole of Angeous. In seconds the sun would sleep, taking the last bit of hope along for the ride. A small group of elves traveled atop a dirt path leading far off into the Haze atop the high mountainous hills near the center of southern Roth. Roth was a planet of indigenous life. Almost all types of creatures and races could live on it.

 

    These hills, west of the Seed River, were a value among a small race of blackwood elves. The relationship between them with which they were, were like a proud father and an old friend. Among the traveling group, was a female human child. Her hair was long and orange- colored. A leather strip held a bow and a pouch filled with arrows. It was obviously elven— the craftsmanship and detail suggested such. She wore something resembling a beaten cloth that seemed as though it had never been washed. The green color of her clothing faded slightly. She walked near another Elf, as if she were just another elf. She even whistled a small tune, and walked along, her head held high, as if no problems or complications could ever occur at any time in her life. Her hopes were obviously high.

 

As they reached the top of the hill, she soon saw the familiar sight of the Elvin caves below. She ran ahead of the group. The older Elf nearest her smiled at the sight of her joy at “home”. Remembering what he was about to do, the smile vanished.

    “Senna, child, do return!” He called out.

     His voice was rough and croaking. As was his face, for his nose was crooked and curved as such to match the other scars and bruises of his face; the side effect of 400 years of age.

     This was something Thorin, the wise elf, had never done, unless to warn Senna of danger. She returned swiftly, her black eyes alert and searching for a sign of danger. Quickly pulling an arrow out and aligning it with her bow, she once gain searched for any sign of danger. She had her other hand resting on a small leather pouch hanging from her belt. It was filled with sharp stone rocks carved with anodized Troll bone daggers right off of the stone walls of her cave. Even though the Blackwood elf base was mainly located underground, underneath a large, broad, Elf- bred Blackwood tree, she was, for some reason, not permitted a sleeping ground in these Elf headquarters.

     “No, there is no danger” Thorin spoke sadly.

     Senna put down her weapon and rested her other hand. She was trained in the ways of Blackwood elf fighting technique. She knew she could defend herself in the wild. The thought came to her from no where. Yet somehow, for some reason, she knew Thorin felt the same.

    “Then what do you need?’ Senna asked plaintively.

     “I ask that you leave this place. That you live these Elven grounds forever.

      Her face became scrunched up and her eyes were filled with emotion: anger, confusion, and perhaps a little sadness.

       “I can’t leave.”

        She sat down on the high hills about her, and crossed her arms.

        “I can’t leave” she repeated. “This is my home”.

Thorin gave her a sorrowful look.

         “You must leave. There are no questions to be asked.”

He tossed her a small pouch filled with Elvin coin, and hung his head low.

           Senna shook her head in disbelief and then fiercely threw the bag of Elvin mint onto the cold, dirt ground below. Shaking her head once more, she left the hills, telling herself she would never return.

           Thorin sat there on his knees, the bag in his scarred, dried hands. He felt the bag, and looked up to watch young Senna go. He had been her guardian for fourteen years. He then shed a tear. Not a tear of sorrow or happiness; But a tear of remembrance and farewell.  Senna walked away.

Author's Note

doesnt even talk about that funky sounding staff! Tasr staff. i kinda like it. i should use it.