A Story That is the Result of Extreme Boredom

The wind crashed in the trees, ripping loose twigs, leaves and unwary owls.

I braced myself against the gale, doing all could trying not to lose my balance as looked for a safe place to hole up and shelter from the blistering wind. I found a small dip behind a fallen tree, and seeing no other place to hide; I crouched down and huddled beneath my cloak, letting the tree take the punishment. I laid my bedroll out and nibbled a hunk of bread, shoving my feet inside my pack.

I woke up to the sun streaming through the trees, illuminating the devastation the wind had wrought. Around me lay torn branches, bent trees and a couple of dead rabbits, killed by a falling branch.

I thought about picking the rabbits up and using them to make a nice hot breakfast, but they didn’t have much meat on them, and their deathbed was a pile of deadly mushrooms. So I dug a lump of cheese out my pack and sat, munching it and wondering what to do next.

I had been sent out to find and kill something by the end of the week to have in a roast. On reaching that mouth-watering vision, I picked myself up and set off to find some deer.

I found a small herd in a clearing and watched as they happily chewed grass, unaware of the fate that awaited one of their number. I wondered if I should kill one now, or take a gamble and wait for an easier opportunity to bring one of the creatures down.

As I was expected to be back the next day, I decided to string my bow and slowly move around the edge of clearing, hidden by the trees, as I scanned the herd for a suitable target. I set my sights on a small buck, and drawing my bow, I looked down the arrow shaft, pausing to take a deep breath, I let the arrow fly. The arrow struck the buck’s heart killing it instantly.

Unfortunately, I hadn’t noticed the stag a little way off behind it. Obviously, the stag didn’t like its young being shot at, and with a bone shattering roar, it lowered its black antlers and charged!

As the beast hurtled towards me at a terrifying speed, I turned and ran for my life.

I grabbed a low lying branch, and swung myself up into a tree, panting as the stag roared and butted the tree beneath me. Realizing it wouldn’t give up, I drew my bow and shot the stag in the chest. It shuddered wildly, then collapsed and lay still. Drawing my hunting knife, I jumped down from the tree and prodded the massive corpse with my foot. The stag didn’t move, so I set off back to the clearing. The herd had fled, leaving the dead buck behind. I walked over to the corpse, and set about skinning it, stowing the hide inside my pack, then I began the task of removing the meat from the bones. Putting the heavy load in my pack, I quickly buried the bones, and then walked back to where the stag lay. I repeated the process, but also hacking the head off, wanting to take it home to show my parents. I also quickly dug a hole to place the rest of the meat in, as a stag and a buck would too heavy to carry.

I set off at a brisk pace, whistling cheerfully. When night fell, I made a fire and cooked some of the meat, wolfing down the delicious, hot meal. When morning came, I woke to the usual bird calls and rustling as the forest started to wake up. I groggily got to my feet and began walking along the stony track, and within a few hours my house came into view in the distance. I quickened my pace, eager to be home. When I arrived I walked in through the kitchen door to the delicious smell of fresh bread.

“I’m home!” I called out as I started unloading the meat onto the table.

In a few minutes my father walked in, and hugged me hard in his great arms.

“So how was your trip son?” He asked.

“It went very well, actually.” I replied, gesturing to the meat on the table.

He looked at the pile of meat and asked, a note of fear in his voice:

“Where did you get that head?”

I quickly filled him in of my narrow escape, “What? You killed the last Blackpine Protector? Oh this is bad. This is very, very bad…” He turned away, mumbling something.

Confused, I asked “What are the Blackpine Protectors?”

“The Blackpine Protectors were a herd of deer that, in the Old Times, would guard the legendary fort of Kandallar. They were named after Dorino Blackpine, an Elven mage who first charged them with guarding the fort after rescuing the herd from a pack of Strutan wolves. They would warn the soldiers in the fort of attackers by roaring incredibly loudly, and running back to the fort with unnatural speed, to receive messages to deliver to nearby settlements and kingdoms warning them of the attack.”

I nodded. The one I had killed was strangely fast and its roar had been extremely loud. We sat in silence for few moments, then:

“Pack some food and clothes enough for both of us to last a week.Don’t ask me where we are going. We haven’t much time. Oh, and bring your bow.”

“Where are we going?” I asked, disobeying my father’s command.

“To the Seer, if you must know.”

A wave of apprehension swept over me as I thought of the Seer: as grumpy old woman who wore enough strange charms to buckle the knees of an elephant, and carried a grimy old stick. She lived in a cave, deep into the forest, which she only ever left to deliver babies, heal the sick, and to gather a particular type of fungus that she claimed helped her see into “the Otherworld”. Everyone in the village knows that those mushrooms are hallucinogenic and make you feel either really ill or put you into a REALLY relaxed state. Whenever you went to the Seer about something, she would probably shriek like a harpie and foretell your gruesome and untimely demise. And if this something was anything to do with users of magic (mages, necromancers, witches etc.) , then you probably would die a horrible death.

Grabbing the saddlebags, I packed 3 loaves of bread, half a cheese wheel, some of the venison from the hunt, the seasonings and herbs, a flint and steel, some apples and some clothes, mumbling little chrams under my breath that were supposed to ward of evil spirits. When my task was completed I ran out of door, pausing only to grab the tack for our horse, Bella, and dashed into the stable, where I found her munching on on some hay, with a look that seemed as though she was determined to eat all of our feed. After putting on her reins, I added the saddle and the saddlebags, and led her out of the stable and tethered her to a post on the fence, then went back inside to collect my bow, arrows and hunting knife.

~ by lazydragon on June 8, 2007.