Warenders: Year One Chapter One

Warenders Chapter 1: Introductions

The Graduation Ceremony had done a number on him. Tyrand woke with a loud groan. Hi vision was blurred, and every muscle and bone in his body ached. As he slowly sat up in his bed, he surveyed his surroundings.

It looked like he had at least made it to his quarters. The room was standard issue: White walls, recessed closets, and a shared bathroom for the .. two.. occupants.

*Great*, Tyrand thought to himself as his sight slowly came into focus. *I hope to high heaven I didn't get paired with- *

His thought was cutoff as his roommate yelled from across the small room.

"So I take it graduation was rough on you too eh?"

*Him*, Tyrand thought as Rolwynd came into focus. As though it weren't bad enough to have a Drow as the lead student all the way through Warender School, but now he would have to put up with the pompous elf for at least another year.

He didn't seem like much - only five and a half feet tall, slender build, trademark drow grey skin, and black eyes with white hair, and that damned elven narrow jaw. Honestly, he looked frail. That was probably his best advantage - those unfamiliar with the drow race wouldn't think much of them at first glance.

Luckily for Tyrand, hew knew better. The drow were known masters of Earth Manipulation, able to move, shape, and create the element at will. This made them ideal candidates as both ranged and close quarter combatants. Rolwynd, in particular, specialized in hand to hand techniques, which he enhanced dramatically using Earth Manipulation. If it hadn't been for the family trait, he probably wouldn't have excelled like he did.

"Hey, you gonna say anything?” Rolwynd asked again, continuing his workout on the pull up bar near the entrance to the room.

"Nope", Tyrand replied as he grabbed a towel and headed for the shower, noticeably disgusted at his situation.

The shower helped clear his mind a bit. As he dried himself, he looked in the mirror. Despite the night being fairly rough, he had already healed for the most part. His pale skin barely showed the few remaining scratches. Even after the final stages of becoming a Warender, his green eyes and brown hair hadn't faded like they were supposed to. However, he did inherit the lean muscular build all other Warenders had. Just then, it hit him: It was Sunday.

"Hey Rol", Tyrand said as he emerged from the bathroom, "What time is it?"

"Time?", Rolwynd questioned, dropping down from the pull up bar. "You give me that kind of attitude, and expect me to answer, just like that?"

"You're a caver, right?", Tyrand scolded as he grabbed Rolwynd's wrist, checking the time on his watch.

Rolwynd stood silently, taken aback by the racist remark. His people were subjugated by the Emperor when he was just a child. While having only aged fifteen years, Rolwynd was actually seventy five years old. When he was only five, he watched as the Emperor, then only known as General, stormed the palace halls. He saw the Emperor sign a treaty with his father, the king of the Drow, swearing peace and partnership between the two lands. No sooner had they signed did the Emperor kill his father, and succeed to his throne, uniting the two Kingdoms as one Empire. Ever since that day, Drow had been second class citizens, forced to either live in cave dwellings, away from the humans, or into military service.

It was only because of his status as the heir to the former Drow throne that he was able to gain admission into Warender School.

Tyrand said quietly, "10:30". Then after a second or two of thought, he threw his head back in frustration. "Shit! I’m late!"

Rolwynd was snapped out of his shock by Tyrand's yelling. Quickly, Rolywnd put his black t shirt back on and ran out the door, with Tyrand close behind, still getting dressed.

The two headed down the narrow closed off walkway covering twenty or so feet with every step, as only Warenders could. Before long, they reached the end. Without breaking stride, the two lunged outward, away from the barracks toward the senior housing and office area below. Again with out breaking stride, the two landed, and continued closing in on the parade ground, where their own graduation ceremony had already started. Just as Tyrand was in mid jump between the last two buildings, a sudden violent gust of wind flipped him around, causing him to slam flat on his back on the roof of the building, causing several cracks in the cement.

Tyrand looked up to see a figure in the air, shadowed by the sun as it was directly behind him. Instinctively, Tyrand flung himself toward the enemy, grabbing a few flechettes from his sleeves and hurling them toward the assailant. The shadowed figure dodged and caught the projectiles effortlessly, only find test line secured to each one. Before he could let them go, Tyrand had hurled himself even closer. With only a few feet between him and the enemy, Tyrand knew he wouldn't miss the second time.

Faster then he knew possible, the Enemy produced a massive sword from behind him, and used the broadside of the weapon to route Tyrand's second volley. As they started to descend, Rolwynd intercepted the mystery figure and attacked, both of his forearms encased on rock. Tyrand used the reprieve to ready a third attack.

Rolwynd was attacking with every technique he knew, and this man was either blocking or dodging them with little effort. Catching Tyrand readying his next attack, Rolwynd tried to move away from the enemy, only to catch the broadside of his sword from the right side, which has been blinded by the sun. Losing consciousness, Rolwynd hurdled toward the parade ground.

Just as Rolwynd was sent flying, Tyrand launched his third attack, hoping to ensnare the assailant. Unfortunately, the man simply cut the test lines as they flew toward him. with a quick gesture, another violent gust came up slamming Tyrand through a nearby chimney, ultimately landing near Rolwynd on the parade field. As Tyrand struggled to maintain consciousness, the man landed, and the school's instructors walked up.

"Well Captain, what do you think?", one of the instructors asked.

Looking squarely at Tyrand, the man lit a pipe. After a quick puff, he answered:

"Two things: One, this is the last time the two of you are late. Period. Two, I'm your new immediate superior. You will do as I say at all times."

With a short chuckle, the instructor asked again. "Will they do, Felwynd?"

Nodding ever so slightly, and taking another puff, Felwynd answered, "For now."

As the conversation continued, Tyrand lost consciousness.