Thread: The Silver General :;: Written Drabble of Cyanide

Prologue The first thing she felt in ages were warm hands on her cooling skin. This confused and aggravated the semi-conscious woman, and a snarl worked its way past her dry and cracking lips. She's awake, a voice noted from her side. If her arms were not bound the voice would have ended swiftly on her blade. Her first clue to her captor's identity was the voice, the language spoken was not her own. It was the crude language the humans used, barbaric and rough to her ears trained for delicacy. The second was the dark tint of his skin when she managed to open her eyes. A mountain dweller, humans who reside in the mountains to the north, was the one who spoke on her left side. Hey, the pointy eared one is awake, repeated the dark skinned human, his large fist rebounding from the wooden planks of the caravan. During the distraction the woman took a moment to survey her location closed caravan made of wood stripped from a living tree. Aside from the simple construction she noted the doors in the back had no visible locks, they must have locked her from the outside. There were others bound in the wagon, another elf with wicked scars down his aged face, and two human men with remarkable similarities. There was also a second mountain dweller guard sitting near the wagons exit, his murky face spread wide with a grin. Maybe we's can have some fun with the pretty one, he continued to grin tongue dancing over dark lips. Hush Rulin, she may look weak but we saw what she can do, she'll cleave you in twine with bare hands, replied the first guard. You know not whom you deal with, muttered the scarred elf. The female tilted her head to regard him he was not one of hers. But her legend was spread wide across the lands, The Silver General, was her title and one she did not acquire for no reason. Watch y'er mouth, cur! One of the guards hollered before backhanding the elf, who took it without complaint. The bound female merely nodded her head in mute thanks, though the simple motion reminded her of the open wound on her scalp. Things suddenly came to a halt and noise erupted outside of the caravan, the two guards pursed their lips in confusion, Why are we stopped? asked the one near the exit. Dunno, muttered the first one, his hand connecting with the separation between the driver and the prisoners. Hey! Gualt! What's going on? He got no reply. This caused panic to raze the caravan the dark male nearest the door began to yell out for the others to open the door, and began throwing himself at it. When the lock did break he fell out into the muddy road. It was nearing dusk and rain fell from a clouded sky. But alongside with the miserable weather came a miserable scene all of the guards that had been moving along with the caravan were slain and lying in the mud, bandits stood over their bodies with blades slick in their blood. The two human guards quickly rose to the occasion, grasping their blades in shaking hands. The sight disgusted the bound general and she snorted her displeasure as they rushed to their death. The first fell quickly as the human prisoners moved to escape, whereas the female elf used a blade propped on a body to cut her binds. The fight ended quickly after that. The woman danced through her opponents, borrowed blade heavy in her hands. The last of the bandits fell once his head was removed from his body the woman once decorated in silver armor threw down her blade and twisted her body to face the remaining guard, the one who had pounded on the separator for help. Her face was a mask of distaste, delicate features now visible in the dim light of the evening. Scars marred a once beautiful face, long delicate ears were torn, and hair the color of a sunset cascaded loosely down her back, now that it escaped from its hold on the back of her neck. Useless, she spat at the human cowering at her. Little bandits and your people all die, how you think you have a chance is beyond me, her voice was surprisingly soft, musical even. The words were broken, it wasnt often an elf would lower themselves to speak in the human tongue. Her eyes flicked away from the guard to the three other prisoners, all watching in wonder. Her lips stayed tightly drawn as she regarded them. They obviously had all held blades before, and they had to be slightly useful to be taken prisoner as she was. Find weapons and come along, or stay here and die with this filth.