Patiently waiting for an opportune moment to strike, Benji quietly lined up a shot with his longbow at the closer orc as they dragged the body to the barn doors. "Steady, steady," he thought to himself.

Benji fired, but he cursed silently as the shot went wide off histarget. The orcs turned around, their ugly faces twisted in alarm, their snouts twitching with fear, and their eyes searching the darkness for him. He fired again quickly, using an arrow that he had set aside on the ground to reload quickly, and skewered one of the orcs in the eye! It fell to the ground, lifeless.

His red eyes gleaming in the night, the other orc spotted Benji and rushed toward him in the darkness, its greataxe swinging wildly at the door he hid behind. He was not going to be able to get another shot at the orc before he reached him.

Benji ducked aside from the door and pulled out his blades to finish off the last orc, pushing the back door in front of him for cover. Furious over the death of his comrade, the angry orc swung wildly with his menacing greataxe but missed. As soon as the greataxe swung away from him, Benji pushed the door open and thrust his longsword deep into the orc's belly. The orc halted suddenly, glanced down at his mortal wound, and snarled at you weakly as he slumped to the ground, his red eyes cold and lifeless.

Still ready to use his swords, Benji checked the bodies for anything useful before moving into the barn to look cautiously for any more signs of life.

Benji shifted his longbow back over your shoulders. Grasping the hilts of his blades tightly, he scanned the house and begin to inspect the bodies. The house was in total disarray, the dinner table overturned, a few bowls and dishes scattered and broken on the floor. The orcs had worn poor-fitting scalemail armor that looked more suited for smaller figures than his but still too big for an elf to wear. Not that you wanted to; the foul smell of unwashed orc sweat and dried blood was soaked deep into the armor's leather padding. His rusty greataxe was still wet with the blood of the dead rider outside. Benji took the silver and copper coins the orc had in his coin purse.

He inspected the bodies of the humans and their guard dog. The dog had died of its grievous wounds during the battle, its sad eyes lifeless, its dry tongue lolling out of its dead mouth. The humans had been dressed in sleeping clothes, now bloodied and torn from the brief struggle they had put up against the orcs. Benji's eyes lingered at the face of the old woman, and he astonishedly realized that this was an aged version of the young girl that he had watched grow up from his hiding place in the nearby woods. The wrinkled lines on her pale, terror-stricken face overwhelmed you. The elder who had taught himthe Common tongue had told him how quickly the humans aged, but Benji hadn't realized what he had meant until that moment.

Slowly Benji walked out of the homestead, now a gloomy tomb for its former inhabitants, and inspected the bodies of the other orcs and the rider outside. The rider was dressed in leather armor, now ruined by the many wounds he had received from the orcs. Both his sword and wooden shield had been shattered as well during the fight. The orcs were dressed in awkward-fitting scalemail, and their greataxes too were still soiled with the blood of the dead rider. He rifled through their coin purses and pocketed their coins.

Carefully Benji approached the barndoors, still slightly ajar from when the orcs had surprised and slain the rider. He pushed the doors open quickly and waved his blades threateningly about. Inside the barn he saw the dead bodies of two human males, perhaps sons of the husband and wife. The whole family was dead. He shivered at the sight of death all around him, the orcs and the humans, and he shook with rage as he realized that Tia and all she had ever known was dead. "Almost all," he thought to himself. He was still alive.

It was then that Benji remembered why he had left the forest and entered the human village. Sev'aela Galanodel** lived here. She had come with her half-elven daughter to the forest settlement they both called home and had asked the Council of Elders to accept her and her daughter into the tribe. They rejected this outrageous request, refusing the elf woman who had abandoned her heritage, lived with the humans, and given birth to a N'Tel'Quessir. Sev'aela was deeply distraught by their decision but accepted it and left quickly afterwards.

Afterwards, Aust Liadon, the Elder who had taught Benji the Common language long ago, had approached him secretly and asked him to find Sev'aela and deliver her a letter. When he asked him what this was all about, he explained that he felt that the elven woman was in grave danger. The war between the elves and the orcs had expanded westward from the old battlegrounds. He feared that if the orcs were to discover Sev'aela living with the humans that the orcs would ransack the whole human village trying to find and slay her.

He also confided that he did not agree with the Council's decision, but he was in the minority. "The Council may not abide the presence of a N'Tel'Quessir** in the tribe, but Sev'aela is still Sy'Tel'Quessir**. She will never abandon her daughter, but neither she or her daughter will be safe with the humans."

"Give her this letter. I will not abandon her, N'Tel'Quessir daughter or not."

**Galanodel is Elven for "Moonwhisper." N'Tel'Quessir is Elven for "not Elven," an expression used by elves to describe non-elves (including half-elves). Sy'Tel'Quessir is Elven for "moon elf."

*****

Zakath hefted his longsword and positioned himself for a quick strike at one of the orcs. The orc ducked at his initial swing, but he pivoted and hit the orc in the back of the head with his backswing. It fell hard to the ground, dead.

Meanwhile, the other two orcs moved around Zakath, positioning themselves for easy attacks at openings in his defense as they presented themselves. He dodged and avoided the first orc's swing but shifted right into the second orc's axe. It bit deep, blood pouring profusely out of your side. He was wounded badly. He shifted and parried the backswings of the orcs, but he was not sure how much more of this he could take.

Trying to focus on the task at hand, Zakath grasped the handle of his short sword like a dagger and launch it at the closest orc. He then turned to as to see where the other orc was and kept the building to his back.

Zakath drew his short sword and hurled the weapon awkwardly at one of the orcs. Unaccustomed to using the blade as a throwing weapon, his aim was well wide of the target. Sensing his panic, the two orcs scoffed in unison and swung hard at him with their greataxes, but he gracefully parried their hard blows with his longsword, his blade ringing twice at the impact.

Zakath began to move towards the doorway keeping the building to his back. He thought to himself, "If I can get in the doorway, I can limit the attacks coming." He stayed on defensive, attacking only if he could do so without overly exposing himself and backing through the doorway when he got to it.

Sensing how desparate his situation was, Zakath waved his longsword defensively before him, concentrating on the two greataxes as the orcs closed in, waving their menacing greataxes at him, snarling maliciously. They swung hard again, and he furiously beat aside both greataxes, both axeblades narrowly missing him. He backed towards the door slowly. He eyed the orcs' awkward-fitting scalemail and wondered to himself if he could outrun them.

Upon weighing his options and taking a last look at his position to the door, Zakath turned and ran through the door and headed for the front entrance and his waiting horse without a backward glance. As he moved through the house, he pulled things down as he went to block the orcs' paths.

Zakath swung his longsword at the two orcs one last time to give himself berth to maneuver and then burst through the back door. As he ran over the threshold, he slammed the door shut before the orcs could catch him. He turned and ran along the outer walls of the church towards the lamplight at the front entrance where his horse was. The orcs roared in frustration as they hacked at the door with their mighty axes. His headstart from the orcs' destruction of the back door was enough for his narrow escape. He mounted his steed and quickly rode away from the despoiled church. The orcs threw javelins at him as he fled, but they fell short. As he rode back to Lerue, he noticed homesteads in flames near the sides of the road. "Orcs," he grimaced as the pain from his wounds erupted in renewed furor. He felt dizzy from the pain and clutched the reins tightly as he rode onwards.