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Rated: ASR · Novel · Fantasy · #601776
A young warrior spies a beauiful elf across a battlefield.
Lovalor and Oleandra


         Chapter 1

         "Watch the left side, they're trying to flank us!" The command came across the battlefield like a trumpet blast. The goblin troops were trying to maneuver around the human army and mount an attack on the rear.

         Sir Lovalor pulled the point of his halberd out of one of the green creatures and swung it inside the shield line toward the left flank. No goblin is going to get past me.

         The early morning sun still hid behind the Tripeak Mountains, as the men stood guard at the exit of Goat Trail Pass. A troop of misshapen humanoids had moved through the pass during the night and was stopped from advancing further. Like a bunch of green apes, the goblins wielded their crude swords and shields without skill or reason. Their goat skins gyrated around their waists as their hairless bodies moved in and out of weapon range with little regard for personal safety.

         The mountains were full of these strange little creatures, but normally they stayed deep in their caves. At one time, a person rarely saw a goblin in the valley, but something had changed. During the past few weeks, they had made small raids on the villages closest to the pass. Now they were launching a full scale invasion.

         A small military attachment, including several knights, had been sent by King Rexor II to put a stop to the invaders. Although trained since youth in the ways of combat, this was the first time the men had been called upon to put their lives on the line. The tiny kingdom had long ago signed treaties with its two powerful neighbors.

         The Kingdom of Blackwood was surrounded by mountains on three sides and by the Salmon River on the fourth. The rest of the kingdom was composed of fertile farmland, clear blue streams, and a large hill where the castle stood. The pass was only used by merchants and travelers looking for rare items and adventure in the wild lands beyond. Long ago, the rich kingdom of Sage Deep once stood on the other side of the pass, but greed and ambition caused its down fall. Only a crater marked where the capital city once stood.

         Sir Lovalor looked through his visor at the chaos happening around him. The left flank was starting to collapse from the relentless onslaught of the invading monsters. Summoning strength from within, he charged the goblins that had managed to maneuver around the line. Three of them lay dead at his feet by the time he heard the order to retreat.

         Although disappointed, he knew better then to disobey an order. Using quick jabs, he kept the creatures at bay, while he retreated to the shelter of the army's makeshift fort. Unable to take his eyes off the enemy, he had to rely on the fort's drums to guide him during the slow backward march. When he saw arrows start to pick off the straggling goblins, he knew he was close. The log walls engulfed him, as he moved through the front gates. Once everyone was inside, the wooden gates were closed and two logs were braced against the doors.

         A hand slapped the back of Lovalor's splint mail, causing him to stumble forward.

         "I heard you forced a few goblins to the ground, Lore." Holding his helmet under his arm, Keegan smiled through his matted facial hair. "Come on, I'll get you a drink."

         Lore removed his helmet and took a breath of fresh air. "This helmet is more a danger to my survival than a whole army of goblins." Wiping the sweat off his forehead, he looked at his brown-haired friend and noticed a patch of blood under his left arm. "I keep telling you to guard your left side."

         Keegan's blue eyes darted to the gash. "It could have been worse. That red eye won't be doing any more victory dances."

         "I think many of them are taking permanent naps." Lore pulled his thick black hair out of his hazel eyes and looked around the fort. "Do you know if we lost anyone?"

         "We lost Rasul and a few others." Keegan placed his gauntlets in the helmet and sat on a crate. "Are you sure you don't want that drink?"

         Lore sat on the bottom rung of the guard tower. "Rasul could handle stick and steel. Did you see how it happened?"

         "Those beasts are becoming smarter, some of them joined forces and rushed the line. As we were pushing back, one of them jumped over and landed behind Rasul. He was dead before anyone knew what was happening. The whole line started to collapse. That's why they called the retreat."

         "I thought it was because they were starting to overrun the left flank." Lore felt the tension leave his shoulders. "I should have known the situation would have to be more desperate than that."

         "What happened on the left--?"

         "Get your gear together, we're going back out." Sir Aldor's voice echoed across the fort. Groans and complaints could be heard, along with the clanging of metal, as everyone prepared for battle.

         "Are you ready to skewer some more pigs?" asked Keegan.

         "Do I have a choice?" Picking up his halberd, Lovalor waited for the order to head back out into the battlefield.

         While the army was marching out of the fort, the sun cleared the mountaintops and bathed the field in light. On his way to his position behind the left flank, something caught Lore's eye. He looked toward the tree line and saw a group of tall humanoids standing on a nearby hillock. Four of the visitors wore forest green and carried longbows, the other two were dressed in well crafted robes. Of these, the male was taller than the rest and had a noble bearing about him. However, Lore's full attention was drawn toward the female. Her long golden tresses flowed around her light green skin like a meadow stream. Like light through a ruby, her violet eyes penetrated him straight to the heart.

         "What are you doing?" Keegan woke Lore from his reverie with a hard tap on the shoulder.

         Once he recognized his friend, Lore looked back at the goddess on the hill. "Who is that?"

         Keegan followed his friend's eyes. "I think that's the elfin ambassador."

         "No, the woman."

         "I don't think she is anyone of note, probably a daughter or something."

         Lore felt his skin grow warm. She's noteworthy to me. "I must find out her name."

         "Keep your humors in balance, Lore." Keegan put a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Those guards will turn you into a pin cushion before you step within a hundred yards of her."

         "There must be some way I can talk to her."

         "I hope our little battle isn't interfering with your important conversation." Sir Aldor stood with his arms crossed in front of his chest and glared at the two men. "Now, find your place in the ranks. We're ready to march."

         Reluctant to return to the realities of the battlefield, Lovalor stole one final glance at the vision on the hillock. Is she staring at me? Turning away, he took some deep breaths and tried to clam his racing heart. Concentrate on the battle, he told himself, but his mind wouldn't listen. Not until he heard the sound of steel hitting flesh, was he able to focus on his own survival.

         The battle continued in the human's favor. After cleaning up a few roaming groups, the army was able to push the invaders back into the mountains. As the goblins retreated up the pass, a cheer rose from the victors. However, the cheers were soon drowned out by a loud roar.

         The goblins returned, followed by a gray-skinned monstrosity that was at least eight feet tall and a solid mass of muscle. It was armed with a tree trunk that was thicker than a man's waist. Its short legs shook the earth as the creature moved down the path toward the army.

         "That's an ogre," someone cried, "I heard one once demolished an army twice our size." The front line began a staggered retreat.

         "Hold fast!" Sir Aldor's command brought the men back in line. "It can die like any other mortal beast."

         The returning goblins were caught between two powerful enemies. Many managed to slip past the ogre and return to the safety of the mountains. The rest of them were dead or dying by the time the ogre reached the front line.

         "Raise your shields!" The first blow hit the line with a resounding clang. Two men were knocked to their knees, but the shields deflected most of the damage.

         "Move the pole men into position." Several men carrying spears and halberds began poking at the creature, trying to keep it off balance.

         Lovalor, being farthest from the ogre, slipped around the left flank and maneuvered behind the monster. Once he was in position, he took a deep breath and plunged his halberd into its side. Screaming in pain, the ogre swung its weapon into the cliff above him. Ignoring the falling rocks, he swung the halberd at the brute's legs, catching it above the knee.

         Retreating from the wall of men, the ogre turned toward this new source of pain. With a bellow of rage, it swung it's improvised club and sent Lovalor sailing into the far wall. Seeing that its foe was defenseless, the ogre prepared to turn him into paste.

         Stunned from the blow, Lovalor could only watch as the massive tree trunk plunged toward him. I never even had the chance to find out her name.
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