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Another story I wrote for the Warzone Ezine some time ago, this one about High Elves instead of Dark Elves. I hope you enjoy, and feedback is appreciated.
A Lesson in Nobility
Lólindir watched the open plains as his scouts returned, galloping at full pace. His brow furrowed as he wondered why they were in such a hurry. Turning his gaze south, he scanned the coastline, checking for any sign of Druchii Raiders. Spotting none, he spurred his horse, and sped downhill towards the scouts.
They slowed to a halt as they neared him. “Corsairs!” they cried, almost collectively.
“What!” he cried, more than a little worried about what he was about to hear, “Explain what you saw! Now!”
One of the scouts dismounted, and stepping forward, he bowed respectfully, and began to recount what they had seen.
“We patrolled south and East for a half league, and then cut north, planning to sweep back around and meet up with you at the hilltop. However, as we left the plains and entered the flatlands, we heard noises. Luckily, the wind was against us, so we had made no sound in our approach, and we edged to the top of the hill in front of us. On the other side was a Druchii camp! They were obviously a raiding party, as they were all dressed in the equipment of a corsair!”
Cold fury gripped Lólindir, taking the place of the fear of a moment ago. “Dark Elves, on our shores! Do the scum never rest?”
Motioning for the rest of the patrol to fall in, Lólindir turned his horse towards the flatlands.
“Where are you headed?” the scout inquired, a quizzical look on his face.
“We are headed to meet this foe” Lólindir replied, a grim look crossing his delicate countenance.
“But Sir, they outnumber us three to one; you must turn back for reinforcements!”
“If I go back for reinforcements, who knows how much damage they will have done by the time we return! We must stop these monsters before they can do any more!”
With a cry, Lólindir spurred his horse to a gallop, heading for the point that the scouts had described, his golden hair flowing out behind him, as he and his unit prepared to sell their lives dearly in defence of their home and their country.
By Chaosundivided of Librarium Online
Hmm. A little short, but I don't think that's a bad thing in this case as you still get the point across. Well written again, so no complaints there.
I keep asking myself what happens to the scouts, though; do they follow or do they go for reinforcements? I mean, I don't think you'd improve this any by tacking more on the end, to be honest, but it's just what's stuck in my head after reading through it.
You could append it easily enough.
Something like this perhaps?
Korherion reigned in his horse as the Lord's patrol sped past him, kicking up clouds of dust on from the dry plain. Most of the scouts went with Lolndir. He gestured west and the steed cantered for a while then proceeded to a gallop towards the dreaming spires of Tor Elyr. As he crested a dip in the flatland, his keen ears heard the battlecry of Ellyrion...
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Thanks for the feedback. I realize the story is a little short, and it would've been easy to amend it, but this story was written in the space of about 20 minutes, to get two extra pages into the magazine (with illustrations). Ironically it ended up being very popular, despite not quite being up to my usual standards.
I may lengthen it a little sometime in the near future, but I'm a little overworked at the moment.