Rocks. Nothing but a hill of rocks through the blanket of night.

Muta shrugged off the cold easterly wind biting into his thick skin. He glanced off to the west to see the town where the rest of his brothers were no doubt having more fun than he was right now with him trying to find a way to infiltrate the human nest. Mixed with the gentle waves from the eastern lake, the screams from the town were a soft lullaby for the large warrior.

"Why are we here?" Muta growled in the common Aethelin tongue. "What am I supposed to be looking at?"

The twin brothers, Guis and Sitio, peered over the same rock on either side of the Eyllum hulk. Sitio pointed a finger at a spot on the opposite hill that bore no more of a distinction than the rest of the rocky slope. Sitio spoke through his lower-gum tusks, "Somewhere around there, Guis and I found a small passageway that most likely leads into the town."

"Then why aren't we going in there?" the words rumbled from Muta's chest.

Guis answered, "Well, we would, but we don't know our way around the passageways. It's a little tricky to navigate through."

Muta clenched his fists. "That's why Raecetor hired you. Are you refusing to do your job?"

The Eyllum glanced at the Venar brothers beside him. Their shaggy mongrel hair sitting on thin fragile bodies made Muta want to pull their tusks out and bury it into their eye sockets. If their ears didn't have sharp tips, Muta would have been hard pressed into believing that they were true Aethelin.

Sitio grinned at his brother as he thumbed at the brute. "This one. Leave it to an Eyllum to think everything's easy."

Despite Muta's snarl trembling the air, Sitio remained unperturbed with his grin only growing wider.

Guis cut in before Muta could lash out, "We could have mapped out that passageway if we had more time. But your Raecetor was adamant that you attack tonight."

"Do not question my Raecetor's decisions."

Sitio chimed in, "I still don't understand why you don't just climb over the walls with the rest of your brethren."

"Or why you need to sneak around in the first place. Not that it bothers us, mind you. It's just you Aethe'eyllum were not what we expected," said Guis.

Muta answered without thinking, "We're not a large force. We can't afford to spread ourselves out too thin. My squad is too small. If we climb over that wall, we'd be overwhelmed and the humans would kill us. And stealth is not our greatest strength. That's why we need you to guide us."

Silence fell around them. Muta glanced at Guis and Sitio staring back at him, dumbfounded. "What?"

Sitio spoke up first. "Definitely not what we expected."

"Are all Aethe'eyllum as honest about their weaknesses as you are?"

With Guis' words, Muta flinched back and averted his gaze, his head hanging from the mistake he had made.

Muta could hear a grin in Guis's next words. "Don't worry." Muta looked up to see the Venar raise his hand to one of his tusks and flick it with a finger. "We'll keep your secrets." Muta only furrowed his brow at the confusing gesture.

"I don't understand why we have to sneak around though," Sitio started, "Just burn the town down. Problem solved."

Muta shook his head. "No. Our quarry has always managed to slip through our fingers." The Eyllum's claws buried into his palms as he clenched his fists. "But not this time."

Sitio shushed him as he pointed towards the supposed passage entrance. "Speaking of quarry..."

Muta followed Sitio's finger. With vision that wasn't as attuned to the night as the eyes of the Aethe'venar, he struggled to make out the features of the hill opposite. That was when a flicker of light dotted the near black field. The light stumbled closer across the rocky terrain until Muta recognized it as a human holding a lantern. Muta shot up from behind the rock.

The Eyllum felt the brothers' imploring hands grab at his arm before he lazily pulled away from them and headed off. Muta stalked towards the moving light like a predator eyeing his meal. As he navigated through the cluster of rocks, he could hear the rest of his squad following behind him. Despite being proud of their loyalty, the shuffling rocks beneath their feet urged him take his own steps more lightly. Luckily, his squad emulated his attempt at stealth as they closed in on their prey. Muta was astounded by the human's lack of awareness of their presence. A Paravellan would have never allowed this humiliation to pass.

A good thing he wasn't Paravellan.

Muta crouched behind a nearby rock as the human approached a pitch black pocket that must have served as the passageway entrance that the Venar twins mentioned. His brothers also hid in the cloak of darkness and rocks. Muta turned his attention from his squad back to the oblivious human. Several steps was all it would take to cull down the lantern bearer. Why didn't he? Muta moved to do just that before the sound of footsteps travelled from within the dark pocket.

"Finally!" the lantern bearer's voice boomed into the night air. Imbecile. The human placed the lantern down before leaning against the entrance. "Where's the boss?"

Unable to withhold his rage any longer, Muta stood up from his spot and charged towards the human. The arrogant casualness of his posture and attitude. Were his brothers' invasion not enough of a threat to take seriously?

"He's still up there," another human responded from the passageway. "He had to-"

The human's words died in his throat as the lantern bearer's head flew off from his shoulders with a single axe swing. Muta watched the head roll towards the humans in the tunnel which caused them to bunch up together like the frightened sheep they were. Their pathetic reaction brought a satisfied smile to Muta's face. This was the way it should have been. Humans cowering beneath the might of the Aethe'eyllum.

But that jubilant smile dropped when Muta saw him.

His raven dark hair on a scrawny body. His bleeding face swollen with bruises, a face Muta still recognized. A face he couldn't forget. The Paravellan's blue eyes were wide at the sight of the rolling head...before raising them up to meet his. A sight more frightening than a bodiless head, Muta was sure.

"You," Muta growled. "So it is here." The sound of blades drawn in concert earned a raised brow from the Eyllum.

A grin split his face. They wanted to play. And so did he.

Muta raised heavy war axe and spun it in his hands. Gripping his weapon tightly, Muta stomped forward with his axe raised.

***

The torchbearer nimbly evaded the war elf's axe swing before preparing an attack of his own. But that was forestalled when a symphony of guttural roars ambushed the surrounding darkness and the earth shifted under a charging assault. The torchbearer and the rest of Kollo's men braced for the collision. All the while, Marschal's eyes never left the war elf.

He seemed familiar. And judging from his heated glare, the elf definitely recognized him as well as he slowly lumbered his way in Marschal's direction. Two of the bandits suddenly lunged at him only to be effortlessly batted aside by his culling axe. The war elf continued walking unencumbered through dead bodies and pools of blood.

Marschal's legs instinctively carried him backwards as the beast approached ever closer. When he did decide to turn and run back into the passageway, Marschal's feet tripped over an unseen rock sending his face greeting the painfully rough ground.

With the threat to his life imminent, Marschal grabbed a fist-sized stone and hurled it back at the war elf. The stone flew past the elf's ear as he lazily cocked his head to the side. Suddenly, another war elf yelped in pain.

The brute halted. Both he and Marschal turned to see an elf screaming in agony clutching his eye with a hand that Marschal could see was coated in dark red blood. The elf's one good red eye blazed with a bloodthirsty fury that made Marschal wince in reaction. And just as that fury rose, it was just as quickly snuffed out when a sword suddenly sprouted out from his throat silencing his bestial snarls. The human attacker then moved on to defend himself from another foe.

Pulling away from the spectacle, Marschal turned back to see the muscled elf taking a step away from him and towards the rest of the larger battle at hand. Marschal sighed a soft breath of relief from the respite. But it was short-lived when the war elf turned back to him with flaring nostrils and wide red eyes, as though Marschal had personally offended him. As though he was personally responsible for the death of his comrade. As though he had killed him with the rock that he threw...Did he?

Still on the ground and his hands still bound in rope, Marschal wormed his way across the rocky ground in a strange combination of crawling and struggling to pull himself up. He didn't reach far before he felt himself dragged across the rocks and lifted up into the air. Suddenly, a sharp pain shot up his back when Marschal found himself slammed up against the wall of the passageway entrance. The Paravellan stifled a grunt in a less-than-stellar attempt to mask the pain.

"Ebo ist glydou?"

What? The words ran through Marschal's mind as he fought to comprehend the question he was asked. What was it? Where? Sword?

The war elf slammed Marschal's back up against the rough surface again, earning a cry of agony. "Ebo ist glydou?!" Where? Where sword?

Marschal shook his head. "Nun...Nun ist glydou." No sword.

The Paravellan braced himself for another bout of pain.

"Dob moho, quim on spi-" The elf's line of inquiry was suddenly cut short with a guttural bellow as a blood-tipped blade protruded from his shoulder.

With the elf distracted, gravity pulled Marschal back down to earth with a landing that stung his tailbone. He looked up to see his interrogator impaled by a sword wielded by the torchbearer who led the party through the passageway. Marschal noticed him still holding the burning torch, warding off the black night, while he retracted his blade to prepare for another swing. Clearly, the infliction wasn't enough to hinder the elf as he whipped around and dropped his axe onto his attacker.

Marschal bore witness to an impressive battle between an angry war elf and a swordsman whose prowess in combat would have made him the ideal Paravellan soldier. Unfortunately, their violent dance obstructed Marschal's path back into the passageway tunnel. Perhaps the torchbearer's skills were more than adequate enough to rival the war elf's strength and ferocity. But Marschal's gambling impulses were not without its limits.

After the Paravellan was able to pull himself up onto his feet, Marschal stumbled away from the two killers and off towards a much larger arena of sweat and bloodshed. With the rope biting into his wrists, he blindly weaved his way through the chaos of fighting and dying bodies with nothing but a fading lantern and a waving torch for light. He kept low to the ground as he edged away from the slaughter, blessing his luck that he hadn't been struck down yet.

Eventually Marschal somehow managed to detach himself from the messy kerfuffle and began to stagger towards the whispering sound of waves hitting a lake shore. Just when he thought he was free of war elves and town bandits, a spike of pain suddenly struck the back of his skull. Still moving, Marschal gazed over his shoulder to see the large elf in the distance standing over his dead foe. A dripping axe in one hand and several rocks in the other, repeatedly tossed in the air and landing back into his hand in a steady rhythm. A chill ran up Marschal's spine when he glimpsed the torch light glinting off the war elf's razor smile of red-painted teeth.

"Hond pessem in syngeoni teu ulfcois, Pryvelln!" roared the war elf. Marschal only recognized a few words: Smell. Blood. Paravellan. The words were enough to prod Marschal into a strained jog. However, Marschal's legs didn't carry him very far before another vicious pain suddenly pierced his skull causing the Paravellan to collapse under his own feet.

Darkness.

Marschal's dizzy headache softened his fall. At least he thought it did. He could see nothing. Did he fall unconscious? Or was it just the night? What was that? A rock? A groan of pain escaped his chest as he shifted himself over on the unforgiving ground. Marschal rubbed the back of his head as he looked up. The night was still black and his vision hazy. But it was enough to make out the large brutish shape of the angry war elf he failed to flee from.

In his mind, Marschal crawled away and raced to the lake shore. Funnily enough, his body recounted a different story by lifting itself off the ground. How did it do that? Marschal's hazy thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a large war elf roaring into his face with flecks of warm spit hitting his cheek. The Paravellan turned away to look elsewhere only to see five silhouettes in the night standing over rocky ground peppered with unmoving bodies. Marschal knew the bodies were mostly human. Five elves? Were there that many to begin with?

"Edo mi! Ebo ist?!"

Marschal didn't have the energy to decipher his words.

"Dob moho, ebo ist glydou it nun irot-" A shattering roar from the brutish monster severed his own conversation. The elf released Marschal, letting him fall to the earth. At this point in time, Marschal honestly believed that him and the rocks were destined for each other. The Paravellan gazed up and squinted through the darkness to see the elf writhing in pain with what looked like an arrow sprouting from behind his other shoulder. Marschal couldn't help snickering to himself. Poor war elf. This was not his night. The elf snapped the arrow off his back, leaving the tip, before turning to his offender. Marschal followed his gaze to see a line of torches lighting the night on a higher part of the stony slope. More of Kollo's men levelled their arrows towards their targets below. "Fire."

The arrows flew through the air.

Marschal quickly rolled over to cower behind the war elf's large form. The other elves danced between the arrows and braved the ones that struck their body. Marschal's elf shield refused to budge an inch. Admirable of him, thought the Paravellan. Stupid, but admirable. That was when an elven cry struck Marschal's eardrums. He followed the sound in the darkness and was able to make out the shape of a war elf cradling another in his arms with an arrow impaling his throat or face. Hm. Sentimental. Who knew?

Kollo's men were in the process of nocking more arrows when, in a single motion, the cradling war elf shot up, hoisted a dagger from his belt and hurled it at the archers. Not even a cry was heard as one of the archers collapsed with a knife plugged into his eye socket. The flying dagger seemed to serve as a trigger as the elves charged up the hill while the humans responded in kind with more arrows.

The war elves effortlessly manoeuvred their way through the uphill rocks and raining missiles. As a Paravellan, Marschal expected nothing less from his empire's enemy. So when they did eventually reach the humans with frightening speed and felled two of them with a slash of their claws, Marschal wasn't the least bit surprised. However, he was surprised when Kollo himself seemed to materialize from the darkness to cut down a single elf with an expert swing of his sword. To pay credence to his skill with the blade, he danced and sliced his way through two more elves before Marschal noticed the second blade strapped to his back. His eyes widened.

"Warwielder."

The war elf turned around to face the Paravellan and followed Marschal's gaze to the sword on Kollo's back. Marschal cursed his carelessness.

"Nemquod nun on glydou?"

Marschal reacted with a shake of his head but it was futile. He knew that the elf could see through his lie. Without further ado, as though fixated on the sword on the hill, the war elf trudged off towards his real goal. Marschal couldn't let that happen.

"No, no." The Paravellan frantically sprung himself up and crawled and rushed towards the elf. When he finally reached him, Marschal grabbed onto his arm only to be lazily batted aside like a hanging branch in the elf's way. The Paravellan landed back up against a standing rock, watching helplessly as the war elf marched transfixed on Marschal's family heirloom strapped to a bandit's back.

One of Kollo's men noticed the large elf's approach and decided to launch himself at his enemy. The elf dropped his axe through his torso and continued to walk unperturbed. That was when Kollo's eyes found the axe-wielder.

Marschal was too far away, so he opted to stumble towards the two warriors. From his distance he could see Kollo calmly strolling towards the elf challenger. Two elves lunged themselves at the bandit leader only to be swiftly cut down with an elegance that reminded Marschal of his brother. The chaos around the two formidable opponents seemed to die down with only one more other elf facing off against five other humans. But that war elf continued to fight, giving the bandits no reprieve for their efforts.

All the while, Kollo and the large elf continued their march towards each other. The more they closed the distance, the faster they paced to their imminent confrontation. By the final stretch of distance they were charging towards each other with the elf's axe raised and Kollo's sword braced for a parry.