Heroes Book One: The Hunt For Balthezar

Heroes: Book I


“Centuries ago, a man stood tall, and fearless, challenging all boundaries with his presence. This Paladin, defied empires, and was feared by all, even the gods. Though he wielded tremendous power through his sword, this man was as mortal as those he protected. He was known as Prator, defender of good, and with guidance from his god Heironeous, he stood strong when no one else had the courage. Prator fell at the Battle of the Nine Hells, saving the world from darkness and ridding the land once and for all of the evil that once threatened good. Elvin elders preach that when a new evil is born, a hero follows, however after Prator’s death the gods swore there would never be another like him…….. They were wrong……..” 

                                                                                  Borna the Bard, Alerion


Chapter I  The Hunt For Balthezar

         They had been running for three days, tracking an orc that had a bounty on his head for kidnap and murder. Talforn followed his Elvin friend Haven closely, both studying the ground and their surroundings as they barreled across high rolling hills, peaked with jagged rock outcrops, that if fallen onto, could stop a man dead in his tracks. Needless to say, Talforn and Haven were careful to watch their step.
         A week earlier, an old man had approached them, sitting in their favorite pub, The Red Dog Inn, which was renowned  for its popularity among travelers, warriors, thieves, and adventurers, all looking to find both fame and fortune. The Greyhawk city guard, rarely if ever dealt with the pub and it’s customers. Many years earlier the pub keep, a big bearded man who was known by many as Bearman, cut a deal with the king. He wouldn’t have to pay taxes, and the king would stay out of his hair, as long as he kept his customers in line. The Red Dog Inn, after that, was regularly referred to as the only safe place in the city for  wanted fugitives, though if Bearman ever found out, he’d through you out in an effort to avoid trouble.
          So when the old man entered the pub, he didn’t exactly fit in. He approached Bearman, asking to find reliable warriors, the kind that wouldn’t take his money and run. Bearman knew exactly who the man needed, and he pointed across the pub at Talforn, who was rebounding form his previous adventure with a pint of fresh ale. The old man sat with Talforn and Haven, and pleaded with them to find his kidnapped daughter, who was barely seventeen, and quite a beautiful girl.
         “Sorry, we can’t help you friend.” Talforn said, wiping his mouth after a swig of ale. “Please! I need help, she is fragile, and he will tear her to pieces if you don’t save her.” the old man abandoned his stool, dropping to his knees at Talforns front, pleading with the man. Talforn gazed down at the wrinkled old man, into his big green eyes, which reflected pure desperation. “I’m sorry, we have something else we have to do.” said Talforn turning away from the old man cold heartedly. The old man stood, angry at his failure. “You are no hero, you care only for yourself.” with that the man turned and walked out of the crowded pub.
         Haven hadn’t said a word since the man first sat down. He watched the old man walk out, and then turned to Talforn who tried not to take notice of the man’s sorrow. “When he said Balthezar, I thought for sure you would help him.” said Haven. Talforn nodded his head slowly, staring down at his cup. “Mine and Balthezar’s history is over.” he replied looking over at the elf.
         “It’s not over until on of you is dead Talforn, as much as I know you want it to be. And somebody has to stop him, he has been at this for years now, and no bounty hunter can bring him down.” Talforn’s marked face morphed at this, into an arrogant smirk. “And I failed as well, like the others. The only difference is that I lived to tell the tale.” Haven had many times before heard the truth of what happened the first time Talforn and Balthezar met.
         “He will kill many many more Talforn. You and I both know that we are the only ones here with the will or the strength to stop him.”
         The thought of the orc, the foul beast in which he knew he would face again, haunted Talforn. Balthezar, was the only orc that had ever beaten him, and in the process he left a large scar across the front of Talforn’s chest,  a scar that would always remind him never to underestimate an opponent.
         “Haven, if we go after this orc, we do so to save the lives of those he has captured. I am not looking to settle a score.” Haven, trying not to let Talforn read into his excitement, spoke clearly. “Of course. Then we hunt?” He studied Talforn, waiting for an answer intently.
         Talforn coughed into his hand, and then looked up at the elf. “It’s a shame, I was beginning to think we were going to have a few days of rest.” Haven smiled as Talforn spoke. “I never get any relaxation these days.” Talforn groaned standing to his feet and flipping Bearman a gold coin for the ale. Haven followed, flipping his bow onto his back, which he had held in between his legs, like he had done most other nights in the pub. A good ranger always has his bow ready, and Haven learned from an early age why that was.
         The next day they were already on the hunt, following a lead from a farmer that claimed he had seen the orc from a great distance, along with a caravan, and many other orcs. This surprised Talforn, for he knew Balthezar to be a mostly solitary traveler. Talforn was willing to believe the man, however unlike Balthezar it seemed, because he had no other leads to follow.
         Their first lead led to another, and that one to another, until eventually they were upon fresh tracks that met the descriptions they had been given.
         It had been a week since they departed, and now they were closer than ever to the orc, and Haven believed, that if it weren’t for the hilly landscape they were upon, they would have a clear view of the caravan moving off in the distance.
         “It’s a fire!” yelled Haven from fifteen feet in front of Talforn. “A fire?” asked Talforn trying to see what the his friends superior vision had seen. “Yes. Put out, but fairly recent. Still has burning embers.” Haven stood at the top of a hill looking out at a sea of wave like hills in front. Talforn stopped at his side panting heavily, exhausted by the chase. “Tell me we’re getting close.” he heaved, bending over with his hands upon his knees. “Yes, very.” said Haven exploding into a sprint down the hill. “You must hurry Talforn, they will start smelling our scent soon, the wind blows eastward.” he yelled. Talforn followed after him a moment later, wishing he hadn’t left his horse back at the stables in Greyhawk. They trekked across the wet highlands, braving steep back slopes, and unpredictable outcrops, not knowing if the next hill they conquered would throw them into the view of a legendary orc and his henchman. They  traveled hard none the less, hoping that such an event might happen. But for a long time, it did not.
         Not a sound could be heard as they paced across the land. Only the howling of a cool Northern wind flowing across the landscape undeterred, and the trampling of their own feet across the damp ground, but nothing else. Talforn could vaguely hear the steps of his elvin kinsmen who led him by little more than twenty feet, with the internal muffling of his own heavy breathing blocking out most everything else. He hoped, however, that the elves senses were a bit more fine tuned, and they were.
         Haven knew, by the tracks in front of him, laid down by, among others, a large humanoid, that they were within a hundred yards of the caravan, and so as he rose over each new hill, he slowed his pace cautiously. And his caution paid off, late in the afternoon, as he peeked over the largest hill yet, when out in the barren valley below, was the caravan, camped out for the night. Talforn caught up moments later, and crawled up next to Haven, who laid on his stomach, peering over the ridge at their enemies.
         “I never thought I’d be so glad to lay eyes on orcs, let alone an orc such as Balthezar.” said Talforn pulling out his spy glass, and putting it up to his eye. “He’s standing next to the second wagon, the larger one.” said Haven without redirecting his eyes. “Yes I see him. I don’t quite remember him being that big though.” Talforn retorted removing the glass form his eyes as if they had deceived him. Haven nodded, still not acknowledging his friends presence with his eyes. “He is rather large isn’t he.” he said.
         They watched Balthazar and four other orcs intently, as they set up camp, for nearly an hour, and devised an attack plan. “Alright, here’s the plan.” said Talforn in almost a whisper. Haven turned to him, for nearly the first time since they had spotted the camp. “We are going to cloak ourselves, and then walk down there. Chances are they will walk at us, wondering who the hell we are, and what we want. As soon as they are within ten feet of us, we throw off the cloaks, and raise hell.” Talforn smiled awaiting a response from the elf. “That’s the best you can come up with?” asked Haven, taking away Talforn’s wide grin.
         “It will work Haven. They won’t know what hit um’, you can shoot a few, I’ll handle the others with my sword, and then all we have to worry about is Balthezar.” he said. “Fine, I guess if it doesn’t work we won’t be around to argue about it. You go in front, take out the ones nearest, I’ll handle the others.” Haven readied his bow under his cloak, and then threw the hood over his head, and Talforn did the same, and then, after a deep breathe he stood and began walking down the slope of the hill, with Haven close behind.
         “What es dat?” barked the smallest orc across the field, raising the others attentions to Talforn and Haven. “Looks like some priestses or sumthin.” said another taking a bite of a fresh rabbit he had just killed. Balthezar stared at the figures moving down the hill, intently gripping the handle of his axe. “Get your axes you bloody buffoons.” he growled in a low bellowing roar. The orcs quickly scrambled to their axes, which were for the most part dull and rusted, fearful of their masters might. “Whos are they?” asked the orc nearest to Balthezar, who held a heavy crossbow in his hands. Balthezar shifted his gaze over to the orc and smiled wickedly. “I dunno, but I’m sure their flesh will taste delicious.” he growled licking his lips. The other orcs smiled at one another at the thought, as if they hadn’t eaten in days. “Branchar, Norwit, why don’t you welcome in dinner.” Balthezar hissed still showing a wide grin. “With pleasure.” replied Norwit, walking out towards Talforn and Haven, who now drew within fifty yards of the camp. Branchar, a slightly taller, stockier orc, followed closely behind Norwit silently, clutching his axe in his hands.
         Talforn peeked up at the unsuspecting orcs that approached, and as swiftly as he could he unsheathed his sword under his cloak. The orcs had no idea what if anything he was doing, and they continued forward arrogantly without caution. As they neared within ten feet of Talforn, Norwit yelled out. “Who in the Nine hells are you and what…” before the orc could finish his sentence, Talforn’s blade sliced through his neck, severing his head from his body immediately. Branchar jumped back in shock and before he could raise his axe an arrow splintered through his head, spilling a trail of blood down the front of his face. One thump followed another, as both bodies fell dead. Balthezar stared out at the assault, enraged by the death of his henchman.
         “Get them!” he snarled pushing the orc nearest him out towards the now, uncloaked figures. Talforn and Haven stalked forward anticipating the next attack, from the charging orc. “They never learn.” said Haven pulling back another arrow and sending it into the orcs chest, dropping the orc flat on his back. “You bloody bastards!” yelled the last of Balthezars henchman as he shot out a dart from his crossbow, which met Talforn’s steel shield. Before the orc  could load another, three of Havens arrows ripped into his chest. “Aggh!” the orc squeeled as he crumbled to the ground next to Balthezar, who now stood alone, gripping his axe tightly in his hands, and glowing red with anger.
         “You will die this day fool!” he roared as Talforn and Haven approached nonchalantly. “No, orc, you will die this day, I promise you.” said Talforn stopping a mere ten feet from his large adversary. The veins in Balthezar’s forhead bulged, like they were near their bursting point, and he breathed heavily, hyperventilating with an untamed rage from within. The orc stood a head taller than Talforn, and his arms bulged, the size of any normal mans thigh. His hair weaved into dreadlocks, that tucked behind his ears cleanly,  remaining out of his face.
         The three of them stood there for several moments, silently eye balling each other, and waiting for the other to move. “Do you not remember my face orc?” Talforn snapped breaking the silence at last. Balthezar stared at them silently, still enraged, yet not acting on his anger. “Well, do ya?” Talforn asked again, this time with anger resonating from his voice. The orc’s eyes shifted between Talforn and Haven quickly, and bulged, red with fury. Balthezar said nothing. Haven drew an arrow, and placed it in his longbow, readying the weapon to fire.
         “I’ll handle this Haven.” Talforn assured, putting his hand out to lower the elfs’ bow. “You better, or I will.” Haven replied quickly. Talforn turned from Haven, to the orc, and began stalking forward. As he did, Balthezar exploded into a rage, with nearly every visible blood vessel on him bulging from his skin, along with every oversized muscle. He roared, howling like a wild beast infected with rabies, and when Talforn charged in, coming across with his blade, the orc caught it in his hand. Talforn stared into the crazed beasts eyes in shock, and as blood tricked down from the orcs hand, which still firmly gripped the blade, the orc smashed his axe down, into Talforn’s guarding shield, throwing the warrior back into the ground, weaponless. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” said Haven raising his bow, and firing an arrow into Balthezars bulging chest. The orc continued forward, unfazed by the usually devastating attack, and as Talforn scrambled to his feet, Balthezar smashed his fist up across the mans’ face, sending him flying into the air and onto his back.
         “Talforn get up!” yelled Haven pulling two arrows from his quiver and launching both into Balthezar, next to the first arrow. The orc stumbled back this time, coughing up a heap of blood, but then Balthezar stood straight again, and roared in anger charging at Haven. “Talforn!” yelled Haven stepping back quickly, and drawing another arrow, which he intended to lodge into Balthezars’ forehead. As Haven pulled the arrow back, he tripped on a rock behind him, and the arrow went astray. Stumbling onto his back he struggled to draw his long sword, and Balthezar stood over him swinging his mighty axe behind his head, ready to bring it down and end the young elfs life, but as he started to swing it down, Talforn grabbed the axe handle from behind, giving Haven enough time to roll out of the way. Balthezar easily overpowered Talforn throwing him over his shoulder, but Talforn rolled to his feet quickly and drew his second sword.
         “Right back where we started, hey.” said Talforn wiping blood from his mouth. Haven nodded, trying to catch his breathe. “So it would seem.” he retorted. Balthezar, slowed by three arrows in his chest, now looked weak, and though he still stood, Talforn knew it would take little more to bring him down, or at least he hoped. “I’ll end this Haven.” he said quickly looking over at the elf. “I believe that’s what you said last time.”  Haven replied with a smirk. “I underestimated him. Now I know what I am up against.” said Talforn annoyed by his friends scorn. “That would be twice now that you underestimated him, make it three and you may not live to another day.”
         Talforn shook his head at sound of Haven’s comment, stalking forward at  Balthezar, who stood ready for battle, yet drained of energy and slowly dying. “You are Talforn, of Greyhawk.” Balthezar hissed pulling the arrows from his chest. Talforn stopped, staring at the orc intensely.
         “The first time we met orc, you taught me a valuable lesson.” Talforn said, gripping his sword tighter now with anger. Balthezar smirked. “What, not to fight me alone?” he said spitting another heap of blood from his mouth. Talforn’s expression remained firm, and he raised his blade and pointed it at Balthezar. “You taught me never to underestimate any opponent, even if he is just a stupid orc like yourself.” As Talforn said this, the grin on Balthezars’ face faded, and anger replaced it. Both the man, and the orc were done talking, and ready to spill one another’s blood. Talforn continued stalking forward, as did Balthezar, and when they closed within five feet of each other Talforn lunged forward, stabbing his sword at the orc, but Balthezars’ axe knocked away the attack, and he managed to swing it back around, at Talforn. Raising his shield just in time, Talforn stumbled back under the weight of the attack, and then circled his foe waiting for the right moment to strike.
         Balthezar hesitated, and then jumped in after Talforn, swinging his axe behind his head and then slamming it down into the warriors battered shield. The echoing sound of metal clashing with metal rang out across the valley as the axe smashed into the shield, knocking Talforn back again, but again he kept his footing. Though Balthezar wasn’t aware, Talforn had been studying his every attack, and so once again he waited for the orc to grow inpatient and lunge forward, this time knowing of his weakness. They circled each other, and when Talforn made it clear he wasn’t attacking any time soon, the orc let out a low roar and charged forward, once again raising his axe behind his head to bring it down into Talforn. As he did, Talforn lunged forward and jammed his blade into the orcs stomach, lifting the enormous beast into the air momentarily. And then, as if rehearsed Talforn withdrew his sword and spinning around, cut off the orcs head. Balthezars’ head fell near Talforns’ feet, and rolled a few feet away.
         “I don’t think we’ll be worrying about him anymore.” said Haven watching the orcs’ head roll to a stop. “Yeah but now we have to find our way home.” said Talforn walking over to his other sword, Lothar, and picking it up. “Ranger.” said Haven, referring to himself. “Of course, how could I forget.” Talforn retorted, sheathing both of his blades.