The Artifact

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Artifact

A figure kicked up dirt as he walked by the huts of the village. He looked around focusing on nothing in particular. The figure moved like a shadow slipping between huts without a sound. He moved quickly towards a large pile of garbage sitting in the middle of the village. As he stood waiting at the last hut before he would be in plain sight he noticed out of the corner of his eye another figure running towards the pile. Fear filled his heart; he took a deep breath in and yelled. “Hey you stinking trolls come and get me; you’ll be eating good tonight!” Suddenly every troll in the village woke up, for the mere mention of food is enough to bring trolls running. The other figure fled faster than lighting. The first figure charged towards the fleeing figure. A wall rose up in front of him, a wall of tall lean humanoid figure with large tusks.

“You be messing with a world of hurt.” One of the trolls said laughing, “One puny lil’ h-man” a sudden swoosh and the troll fell over dead.

“That’s what I should be saying.” The figure held in his hands now two long swords, they were long and made of black steel now hidden by the gleaming red of troll blood, they had a peculiar shape that curved in opposite directions at the end, as if they were once one blade spilt asunder by some force. The trolls were dumbstruck, not a very uncommon expression for trolls, being as thick as they are. The figure once again yelled. “Hey you lazy dwarf you coming or do I have to come and pull you here by you stupid beard.”

The lone figure charged the swords and him dancing through trolls leaving nothing in their wake. The figure ducked a club swing that had been aimed for his head only to be hit by another. He was knocked to the ground. A large two toed foot stepped on his chest. The troll picked up one of the swords. “You good for a hu-man” then laughed. The troll placed the tip of the sword on the figure’s throat. “Now be time to die!” the troll raised the sword and the figure closed his eyes.

The troll dropped dead, “Prowler you idiot, did you have to grab all of their attentions.” A stout dwarf said in a thick Scottish accent.

“Well….. Yea Haravan I did.” Said Prowler in a mocking tone. Haravan laughed and heft a giant hammer. A troll charged Haravan; he grabbed the hammer and swung it like a baseball bat hitting the troll right in the chest, throwing him into another one.

“Bull’s-eye!” He yelled. “Well grab the item and let’s go already Prowler!”

“Done and done’” Prowler yelled as he bolted out of the camp of trolls holding what looked like a piece of junk. Haravan ran as fast as his short dwarven legs could take him.

“Lad I know that I’ve said this before but I hate you!” Haravan said as he slumped down onto a rock exhausted. They had made it to the hills a good ways away from the troll village. “At least you got the artifact, you got it right?”

Prowler pulled out a small box out of a pouch he had in his hand. He opened it and light music chimed out. “Damn her!” Prowler yelled causing birds to take flight, as he threw the box over the hill and listened as it smashed down on the ground. “She got to it first. She wasn’t sneaking up to the box, she was sneaking away!” Prowler was pacing and fuming with rage.

“Lad, she beat you fair and square, let it go.” Haravan said still panting, “Damn the Arcane I’m getting too old for this”

“You’re only three hundred Har...” Prowler started

Haravan interrupted angrily’ “I’m only 278, and ill still outlive you! So don’t take your anger that Macka beat you again on me”

“Yes yes sorry old friend.” As Prowler put extra emphasis on the word old just to anger Haravan a bit more. Prowler picked his and Haravan’s packs preparing to leave.

“Leaving already, my little kitty cat?” A voice said from the treetops.

“Macka you sneaky little…” Prowler started

“Mad because I beat you again Prowlly Wolly?” A figure leapt from the treetops and landed without the slightest sound. She was not tall but not short either with a girlish figure hidden by her leather armor. She took one of her fingers and ran them over her long pointed ears. Her eyes were so green they looked as if a shrub had started to grow in her eyes.

“Stupid Elvish grace” Haravan said under his breath.

“I heard that ya smelly dwarf” Macka said with a giggle.

“Fine you beat us, but I need that item Macka if I don’t bring it in I could be thrown out of the guild!” Prowler was still furious from being called all the names. She threw a bag at his feet.

“Fine I don’t need it; I could get any magic item I want.” She was still smiling but this time her eyes looked as if a creature was sitting in the undergrowth waiting to pounce. “Bye Bye” she had already begun running as she said it, her shoeless feet leaving soft imprints in the dirt of the forest.

Prowler leaned over, picked up the bag and looked inside “perfect” He said with obvious agitation.

“Come on lad I know she drives yea spare but it certainly makes life more fun.” Haravan said as he started walking off in the same direction that Macka had gone. “Let’s just get back to the guild before anything else happens.”

Prowler ran off into the woods following him. 

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