Kemlon At The Head

The thin, wispy plume of grey smoke spiralled up into the night sky.  White stars shone down from the velvet heavens like diamonds decorating a robe of darkness.  The red-hot coals in the campfire gleamed, burning jewels from the pits of the Nine Hells, the dancing flames flickering and casting eerie shadows about the valley.

Kemlon’s eyes reflected the firelight, as he stared into the orange corona before him.  Memories fluttered through his weary mind.  Alone, at the edge of the encampment, the High Elf archer begun to doze, exhausted from the long, hard march. 

Kemlon had been leading a satisfactory life, a farmer in the Kingdom of Saphery.  For most of his tender years he had been learning from his father – hunting, fishing and the simple enchantments that removed the drudgery of cultivating the land.  He had even been betrothed to the beautiful Arielle: an intelligent and adorable girl skilled with spellcrafting and the art of baking sweet rolls.  But that was before the reports came, of Orcs pouring down from the Annulii Mountains.  Like a small flood, they washed aside several villages, looting and plundering, leaving a path of ruin behind them.  Finally, the warband had been stopped outside Tor Veldaryn, where a defiant army of High Elves had brought the Orcs grinding to a halt.  A series of skirmishes had followed, in which the elf commander leading the elven forces had been tragically slain in a duel.  The elves were driven back into the city, and a call was sounded for reinforcements.  These were desperately needed to crush the Orcs and end the threat to Tor Veldaryn.  Kemlon’s induction into the Citizen Militia was only a couple months away, so he inspired others to join him and respond to the summons.  Travelling with his fellow initiates who formed a company of archers, together with two detachments of veteran spearmen and a squadron of Silver Helm knights under the leadership of Commander Anrithel, Kemlon had set out for Tor Veldaryn.  Anrithel’s strategy suggested that they attempt a flank attack on the Orcs, distracting them whilst the elves defending the city launched a counter-strike.  It was a risky ploy, but one that Anrithel decided would be the best course of action.  Orcs, after all, were not known for their intelligence. 

As a young, keen-eyed elf who had no military training, Kemlon was an archer.  Lacking experience, he would fight the enemy at a distance with his bow.  He considered himself an excellent shot already, as his hunting skills had proven on many an occassion. 

A hissed command burst through his contemplations. 

“Put that fire out Kemlon!  Young fool, you’ve probably already given away our position to the Orcs!”

Kemlon looked up, blinking.  His night vision ruined, he watched the thin captain approaching.  The officer was clad in a hauberk of shining ithilmar scale mail, over pure white robes.  A bejewelled scabbard hung from his belt below a silver breastplate adorned with glinting gems.  A tall, open-faced helmet framed the frosty expression on his face.  Yes, Kemlon had known the harm that could come from a campfire, but tonight it was especially cold, and he had thought that this far away from the enemy it wouldn’t matter.  The captain’s heavy boot ploughed through the fire, scattering coals in all directions. 

“Sorry, my apologies captain,’ Kemlon said quietly.  “I...”

“I accept them but the plan relies, depends on our success.  If we fail, then the orcs will be able to move decisively against Tor Veldaryn.” 

“I understand.” 

“Good.  You should get some rest.  There will be strenuous marching on the morrow.”  The captain stalked off, Kemlon glaring daggers at his back.  He brushed ashes from his once-white robes and dropped a handful of earth upon the glowing embers.  Two days of training in archery, swordsmanship and disciplined unity had taken their toll on him.  He was an elf, used to individual organization but the rigours of the Citizen Militia were demanding.  It was necessary though, for this effeciency was what made the armies of the High Elves the greatest in the world.