Destruction of the little people.

[Orious]

The stars sparkled in the nightly sky as footsteps spat down a long dirty road. Gorges was the night, as the moon shined a tint of silver, casting it’s energies down upon the earth. You could say that the steps were like music, strictly in an even rhythm like a boy on his drum. Why so delicate, it was proper; way things must be done. A man behind a mask you might say crazy, but at least he had style. There’s an art to terrorism, the people just look beyond the point, getting the image of evil. Nah to evil, for it is thay that is truly cruel and filled with lies, nothing but sin pumps through their black hearts. Blacker then the blackest witch you could say.

Orious walked on alone in the darkness with no ounce of fear from the shadows that took the images of monsters, ghouls, and trolls. By now you’re probably wondering what he despises so much, when it’s truly right in front of everyone’s eye. The government. It is government that truly pollutes are lives with hatred and war; with taxes and grief. The government is what creates the poor and soon brings painful death. Young children starve while their parents are taken in, locked up in a dark cell, beaten hourly. What ever gave them the right to say what is theirs? Who gives them the rights to take land without a reasonable price, if a price at all?

What exactly ever happened to tranquility? Was it roughly scratched out with ink and never to be used again? The government is what’s ripping the people apart. Its about time the people stood up for themselves, out numbering their soldiers, standing for are rights of freedom.

Now the question comes to this, he’s being paid by the government to do their dirty work, why would he ever do such a thing? Its quite simple, he needed the money, not only that, he was getting to do what he does best. Confusing yes, but just because he was working for them, meant not that they were at truce. Sure, he’ll do this little quest and take the money. When this is all done and over with, he was sure to start his terrorizing once again. Sad they never caught on that it was him causing disturbance the whole time, now they went and hired him to do their work. Funny, it all was.

Orious, also known as Satchet, stopped in his tracks and looked up the long narrow road. This place was built as a trading route, a quick way to get from place to place in a decent amount of time. Rumor said that the dwarven people might be sneaking their extra piece of bread around here. Exactly why were these two races getting along? Peh, that didn’t matter, his mission was not to worry about such deeds, even though it was rather odd, and so to say, suspicious.

Since this was the trading route, Orious waited, and soon realized he was waiting far too long then what was expected.

[Orious]

Just when Orious was ready to move, a voice spoke out. “One move and your dead….” The terrorist was indeed very surprised by this, but took no action to give them any reason to end his life. The voice came from behind him, and by the sounds of it, this person was also above him. “Go to the middle of the road with your hands on the back of your head.” The voice commanded dryly.

“As you wish..” Orious said calmly before his foot came forth and stepped into the middle of the muddy path. How could he have missed them, there was a total of four men in the trees with their bows armed and ready. These elves were waiting for him. He was set up. Who would have…Then it hit him. Orious was in town when he spoke to a woman that knew all about the trading routes. You could say she was a part of the situation and acted as if she wanted it stopped as well. Instead, it seemed like she was on opposite ends. This woman told him to take this route so she would have men ready for him. Somehow they knew of his coming.

One of the elves hoped from the tree and immediately struck the masked man behind the knees, knocking him into the mud. Placing his foot against Orious’ back, he signaled for the three to come down from their hiding spots. “You thought it was easy as that?” The man spat.

Orious did not answer…

“Answer me!” The elven man snapped before kicking him in the side of the ribs. “Who sent you!?”

There was no answer……

“I said answer my damn question!” This time the man arched his foot back and caught Satchet hard across the face. The elf dropped in pain with a broken toe. His pain was awful, you could just tell by the sound in his voice, but his voice quickly turned to gurgles because a dagger was stabbed right into his tender throat.

The three other elves, who were strictly horrified by the sudden action, struggled with excitement to get their bows ready. Satchet pulled out two hatchets from his hiding spot and quickly stood up swinging. A bow split in half like noting as Orious brought his other arm up, striking the elven man in the chin.

Two were down, that only meant there was another two to go. There was no time to waste, their bows were ready and aiming, so Orious had to act fast by pulling out daggers throwing both of them. They twirled in a circling motion and stuck one of the two in the torso. The man’s feet kicked out from under him as he fell back.

An arrow whistled in the air. There was no dodging, it was far too fast. The arrow came in impact against his stomach and he fell back.

The last standing elf couldn’t believe his eyes. This terrorist was stronger then he looked, but he was now dead, there was no longer need to worry.

[Orious]

Silence plagued through the area as the victorious elf hesitated to approach the man lying dead in front of him. Was he dead, or was this some kind of act? The elven man blinked a few times before he built the courage to step forward and look down on the man. By the looks of it, this masked killer is gone.

“Fool.”

The ranger jumped at the sudden surprise, but before he could react, his knee cap was cracked in half with a hatchet. Fresh blood quickly poured from his wound like a fractured water pipe. Satchet’s grip on the weapon became tighter as he yanked it from the man’s leg. A teeth grinding scream pierced his ears.

“Never do you approach your victim if you do not know if they are dead. For you never know, they might be pulling your leg.” The terrorist informed. “Now comes the questioning. Who sent you my friend?”

“Friend!?” The man spat in agony, “You’re no friend!”

Orious placed his foot against the fallen man’s leg and pushed against it harshly to bring more pain for the man to bear. “That wasn’t my question….. Who sent you?”

“…Never….”

“I won’t ask you again…” Satchet looked at the hatchet in his right hand. Giving it a twirl, he looked down at the man.

“Alright, it was Ariel, that woman you talked to awhile back. She sent us here to stop you. Said she was part of the secret trading.”

“Now were getting somewhere.” Delight sounded in Satchet’s voice as he leaned down to get a closer look at this elf. “Is there anything else I should know about. Perhaps Ariel’s whereabouts?”

The elf was speechless for a moment, but quickly spoke when the Satchet threatened him with the hatchet once again. “She’s at a small town just south of here. Just leave me alone.”

Satchet smiled under his mask as he stood without a word, gathering his weapons, and walked down the long narrow dirt road. He was going to pay this Ariel woman a visit.

[Orious]

Hours passed before Satchet eventually made it back to the small village where he had met the elven woman to speak about the secret trading deal among the dwarves. The night was growing weak and day would hit rather soon. Orious didn’t have the time for this; there was much to be done in such little time. Asking around once again, Satchet did get some information that Ariel was with her husband in an apartment attached to the Hickory Pub. This would be his next destination.

The pub wasn’t that bad actually, slightly casual, yet had a scent of fashion to it. The masked man gladly went inside asking the bartender. “Do you know where I could find my sister Ariel. Much news I have to tell her, for I plan my wedding day on a mid summer night’s eve.”

The bald bartender rubbed his polished head. “Hell, I never knew she even had a brother.”

Satchet laughed. “Yes, indeed we are relatives. You could say we haven’t bin in touch in awhile. I have some great news to tell her, so if you could please give me the apartment number I’ll be on my way.”

You could tell by the odd look on the tender’s face that something was fishy. He sat down the glass he was cleaning and threw his towel over his shoulder. His fat hands sat heavy against the counter in front of him. “Tell me one thing then, why you wearing that mask of yours?”

“You could say.. I just came back from a splendid masquerade. Much fun, you should really take the time to go sometime.”

“Eh, she’s in room thirteen..”

“Thank the gods; I must be on my way. Tuh tuh for now.” Satchet waved a gloved hand at the man before going up a spiraling staircase to the upper floor. The chattering of towns folk faded out as he walked down the dark lantern lit hallway. Stopping at a large oak door, the number thirteen was carved into with what looked to be by a poor carpenter.

Orious traced the number on the door before placing his fingers on the iron knob and giving it a stealthy twist. Locked. A faint moaning noise continued to echo through the room. “They are most defiantly are not playing charades…”

The man was growing tired of all of this and turned walking the rest of the way down the hall until he met a lone window, which was partly cracked. A large gust of wind blew from the window as Satchet placed his palms under it and opened it fully so he could climb out, making his way up onto the roof. The walk wasn’t far from there; he just had to follow the obvious sound of sexual intercourse.

Under him was the room and all he had to do was find a way in there. The man looked over the edge, there was a glass window leading into there room, a perfect entrance. Satchet let out a heavy sigh and jumped off the roof rotating his weight to shift him fully around so he could latch onto the rain gutters and kick his way through the window. Glass shattered violently as his heels slammed through the clear thin layer and landed hard on the wood floor. Immediately covers were flapping everywhere in excitement along with sheer horror.

The woman who now was shielding her naked body with a deer hide growled in anger. “Why are you here!?” Her mate on the other hand didn’t really know what to think, but he glanced at his dagger on the end table.

“Sorry to intrude, but I have a bone to pick with you love. If memory serves, you and I spoke about the little trade alliance with the dwarven kind. I followed your directions and it led me right into a trap, which failed incase you didn’t know. Can you explain to me, Mrs. Ariel, why this happened?”

Ariel’s pointed ears blushed into a deep red as her emerald eyes glowed with hatred and fear. “I set you up so that you would not be enabled to stop the weaponry trading! It’s not your business of what the hell we do, now get out!”

Satchet arched his head back and let out a laugh of amusement. After clearing his throat, he coughed. “Indeed you are correct my dear, it’s none of my business, but I know who’s business it belongs to. And I can say they aren’t very thrilled on the subject so to say.”

The man, who was Ariel’s husband, narrowed his dark orbs and clenched his fist into a ball. “Who sent you here? And why are you working for them!?”

“Ah, let’s not be greedy Mr. Mondoius-“

“And how the hell do you know my name!?”

“I know more then you think my friend,” Satchet spoke calmly, “Now stop being rude and let me finish please. As I was saying before, someone isn’t happy with your doing, and you are to stop this dreadful and illegal trading at once, or I will be forced to become the punisher, not the friend. Please, do make your choice wise Mr. Mondoius.”

Mr. Mondoius shook his head just before he noticed that the unknown man before him was wounded. By the look of a small wooden stub sticking out his side, one of the rangers must have at least got one shot in him, but that was rather sad for there were a total of five. This was his chance, he had to act now, quickly as lightning, he hummed as a blue like aura formed in his hands, shaping its self into an orb of magic.

“Blast….” Orious gulped.

The blue magic shot out at the terrorist and it kicked him so hard he flew harshly out the window he came and fell right into a hay sack. The odder of horse dung came quick to the senses. Disgusting, totally revolting and uncalled for. Mr. Mondoius peeped out the window witnessing that his attacker was under stress trying to get out of the hay. Now he had the time to escape. “That was highly disturbing…” Satchet growled as he scraped off the smudged disposal from his boot with a scowl.

[Orious]

Satchet’s head shot up toward the window like a bullet. By the looks of it, the room was empty. Mr. Mondoius must have planned this for his escape. With a flick of the filth covered man’s wrist, dung rushed from his hat and down back into the hay. The terrorist shook his head. “Mr. Mondoius…..Mr. Mondoius, you are going to regret you have ever done that……”

Orious quickly ran to the entrance of the building and went inside. Many eyes were glued onto him as he walked from table to table, searching for a man and his Elven wife. “Oh where..oh where could my old friend be…? Come out Mr. Mondoius, I’m tired of playing your foolish games.” Satchet reached into his jacket and pulled out a hatchet, twirling it around threatening.

Suddenly there was the sound of thundering footsteps that went right by him. “Rats!” Satchet hissed as he turned and threw his hatchet. The weapon spun violently and stuck into the side of the doorway. “Missed..” Orious sighed and ran past the doorway, grabbing his hatchet on the way.

Mr. and Mrs. Mondoius were now on horse back trotting away. Orious would not accept failure; he was to make sure he would catch that woman. He needed answers and needed them now. He had not the patience for waiting, so he pressed on. Running to a random person with a horse, he punched the man across the jaw before jumping up on his horse. “Thanks.” Orious said dryly before slapping the reigns against the horses hide. Now he was on a chase of the two ahead of him.

Galloping down a narrow dirt road, he followed the dust clouds ahead of him. It was only a matter of time before he would catch up. This black stallion was too bad. He sure was fast.

[Vorin]

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