12/25/2020 Random Stories from Random Words

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Historical Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic

A random story from randomly generated words in an exercise I like to call doodle-writing.

12/25/2020

 

Randomly generated words:  honeybee, werewolf, bounce


 

Earnof was dead and it was all Lowe’s fault.

 

For generations, going back centuries, the Moon Valley pack had dominated the region.  Under the leadership of Earnof, and his father, and his father’s father, and his father’s father, they have defeated and pushed other packs such as the Black Alder pack, the Lotus pack, and even the mighty and vicious Eclipse pack.

 

Earnof was a beloved leader.  He was a strong werewolf; valiant, fair, and charming.  Under his guidance, the Moon Valley pack grew ten times their numbers.  Defeating the rival packs was merely one of his achievements.  After lifetimes of being hunted by humans, elves, orcs, dwarfs, and more, Earnof was able to combat and establish treaties with these neighboring forces.  As peace persisted, the Moon Valley pack flourished and the werewolves did not have to live in secret, in fear, or have to live nomadically.  They were accepted.

 

One day a centaur named Alexolos came to Earnof, requesting support against a new foe.  A great aarakocra army had come to the centaur's land and had invaded swiftly and cruelly.  He explained how they had already overwhelmed and destroyed a great human army, allied with elves and dwarfs.  Before that, the aarakocra had defeated many orc strongholds easily, and how the orcs cried for assistance but received none.  Alexolos further shared how the centaur army, though less in numbers, was full of capable and experienced warriors.  He asked that Earnof and his Moon Valley pack join them, along with what remained of the humans, elves, and dwarfs.

 

Lowe had watched this conversation take place.  He watched as Earnof accepted and the pack prepared for war.  He was a werewolf of no particular importance.  As any werewolf would be expected, he was cunning, fast, strong, and intimidating, but compared to another werewolf, he was simply just another werewolf.  He wasn’t more or less brave, or more or less ferocious, or more or less of anything really.  Albeit his averageness, he was still a capable warrior, although his talents and achievements were eclipsed by Earnof.

 

It did not bother Lowe, or any Moon Valley pack leader, that Earnof always took the glory.  Earnof would hack and maul his way through the aarakocra ranks, fighting his way to their leadership and defeating them as warriors on both sides would stop to watch.  Even the up and coming centaur named Chiron, the emerging pride of the centaur army, would admire Earnof.

 

One day While Lowe and Earnof went into battle, they came upon the aarakocra prince and general.  The prince was Deri and the general’s name was Irr.  Alexolos and a handful of centaurs were with Earnof, who was leading Lowe and about fifty other werewolf warriors.  Both of these groups were separated from the main battle, and both saw a chance to gain a great achievement.  On one side was Earnof, the feared werewolf leader and on the other was Prince Deri and General Irr; the death of any of these figures would be an immense blow to one side.

 

Typically, Earnof would try and battle the aarakocra in wooded areas, where brush was dense and kept the aarakocra from gaining the advantage of flight, as they were bird-like humanoids.  When the aarakocra used their air superiority, the damage they could inflict was catastrophic.  It was always a strategic battle of the minds to draw one another to fields of advantage.

 

At that moment, the aarakocra forces were in a clearing where the centaurs and the werewolves would have the disadvantage, so they stayed at the edge of the forest-line.  The aarakocra warriors taunted and instigated to draw them out, and on the other side the werewolves and the centaurs taunted and insulted to draw them in.  With both groups' armies around the same number, Earnof and Alexolos devised a quick plan.  The werewolves would use their speed to rush the aarakocra, who had stayed in range to yell at their enemy.  While the werewolves rushed in, the centaurs would use their exceptional skill as archers to pick off aarakocra as they began to fly.  This would work only briefly, however.  Quickly, the aarakocra would gain enough height to rain their own arrows down onto the werewolves, safe from the centaur’s arrows.

 

So the attack started.  The werewolves would hit them hard and fast, until the aarakocra achieved their deadly altitude, and then they would run back to the forest, and when the aarakocra would come back to the ground to taunt and insult, again they would attack in the same way.  The attacks were brief, but effective.  On one attack, as Prince Deri took flight, a centaur arrow struck him in one of his lungs, making him unable to fly.  Realizing the aarakocra must stay low to defend their prince, the centaurs dropped their bows and sprang forward with swords and spears.  They swept in with the werewolves like a swift, inescapable tide.  The aarakocra fought valiantly but were outmatched.  General Irr, unable to fight off the centaurs and the werewolves grabbed his prince and fled.  Being unable to fly fast, because of the weight of Deri, and unable to fly high as not to be shot down by spear or arrow, he maneuvered in sharp, abrupt patterns, through the attacking forces, using his sword and talons he cut down many.

 

The fighting had cost many lives on both sides, leaving only a few remaining.  As Irr flew off with Deri, Alexolos, Earnof and Lowe took chase, Earnof ordered their remaining forces tie up with the few aarakocra warriors.  Anytime Irr attempted to gain altitude, Alexolos would loose an arrow to keep him low.  Earnof and Lowe increased their speed and bore down on the two aarakocra.  Desperate, Irr knew he could not get away and made for the forest, hoping to find a place to hide.

 

The centaur and the two werewolves entered the forest.  It was unusually quiet as even the birds were not singing.  The werewolves smelled for their enemy but the scent was weak.  As they crept through the forest, a sudden shadow rushed behind them.  Moments later the same shadow was to their left and then to their right.  The shadow was fast and all around them, which was very disorienting.  The shadow swooped at them, going for Alexolos, it was Irr, now without Deri.  The aarakocra general moved like a strong wind.  Alexolos barely had time to duck as Irr swung his sword for the centaur’s neck.  Strands of long, wild centaur hair scattered into the air as the sword sweeped by.  As Irr passed by, towards Alexolos’ rear, the centaur gave a back kick from his strong horse legs and was able to knock Irr off of his intended course, in the direction of Earnof.  Earnof pounced on the general, digging his back and front claws into him and biting down onto his bird-neck.  The two cork-screwed through the air and into a large tree trunk, where Irr was able to twist just enough to let Earnof take the blow.

 

The impact was enough to daze Earnof, but only for a moment.  Irr was able to face Earnof and was able to fight back with his own beak and talons.  Teeth and talons and claws tore into one another.  During the fierce fight, Earnof unsheathed a knife and plunged it into Irr’s chest.  Irr, stunned, stopped and took a step back and then fell onto his back.  Earnof, bloody and panting allowed himself to take a knee to catch his breath.  The general mumbled something but it was too quiet to hear.  Alexolos moved closer to converse with the dying aarakocra and Lowe moved towards Earnof to aid his leader. 

 

In an explosion of leaves and dirt and other brush, Irr flew upward.  He moved his wings around his body, like a confusing shield in front of Alexolos’ face.  Irr pulled the knife from his chest and used it to cut open the centaur’s neck and then postered to throw that same knife at the exhausted Earnof.

 

At Lowe’s feet was Alexolos’ spear,  and with great speed he scooped it up and took aim, an easy and lethal throw.  Seeing the commotion, Lowe had the advantage of throwing before Irr, and saving his pack leader, but just as he was about to throw, a solitary honeybee landed on and stung his face.  It caused Lowe to jolt and hesitate long enough that Irr threw the knife, where it landed with a hard impact into Earnof’s heart, killing him.

 

Before Lowe could re-aim and throw, a half-dozen other spears sank into Irr and killed him.  What remained of Earnof’s and Alexolos’ small group of warriors had arrived, just in time to see their warriors fall, and to see Lowe fail.

 

Some time went by, and with Earnof dead, the aarakocra began to build momentum and gain more territory.  Prince Deri had died from his wound, and now the king of the aarakocra, King Saiag was enraged and on a quest for vengeance.  He was merciless and cruel, consumed by anger.

 

Lowe had become dishonored among his people.  The story of his failure was spread like wildfire and he was reduced to a position of cooking and cleaning in his army’s camp.  Lowe had begged to be given a chance to redeem himself, but his leaders would deny him any chance for glory.  Despite his low status, he still performed his duties to the best of his abilities, waiting for any opportunity to become a warrior once again.

 

It was the third summer now, since the aarakocra had come.  The orcs were all dead, only the proudest and stubbornest of the elves and dwarves remained, and the humans had become divided, some siding with the werewolves and remaining centaurs, and the other side making treaties and alliances with the aarakocra.  The army was pushed back into a dire situation, into a canyon between two steep mountains.  The aarakocra had slowly, with costly and bloody battles, trapped the army, cutting off both sides and any chance of escape.  Now the aarakocra could chip away and cut off supplies and resources and starve their enemy.  Also, the aarakocra could fly over and rain down their arrows.  In an attempt to counter this, the werewolves and the centaurs would make many fires to produce bluming smoke, to hide them from sight.  It would not stop the arrows but it made them sloppy.  As the wood burned, resources dwindled and soon they would have to attack, to fight their way out of the canyon.  The canyon walls caused their army to converge to only about eight wide, which was impossible to push through the aarakocra forces.  So, when they would attack, eight by eight, they would die until there were none left.

 

The new werewolf leader was Klyn, and Chiron, who was the young centaur warrior, had quickly risen through the ranks and become a leader as well.  The two requested to meet with King Saiag, and so they did.  Saiag was a very large black and red raven and he wore polished armor that reflected like a mirror.  Even the tall centaur, Chiron, had to look just up enough to meet Saiag’s eyes.

 

The two armies watched them talk, unable to hear.  Chiron was like a stone, and stoic.  Klyn did the talking, he was brave and a good warrior, but was given the impossible duty of taking Earnof’s leadership.  Saiag moved around carelessly and his demeanor was antagonistic and mocking.

 

To Lowe’s surprise he watched Klyn, in what looked like a moment of frustration, leap for Saiag.  The king used his powerful wings to block and push the werewolf to the ground.  He then grabbed Klyn by the neck and lifted him off of his feet.  Before Chiron could react, and with a smirk, Saiag tossed Klyn up and side kicked his talon deep into the werewolf’s stomach and then flicked to the side to open the wound, spilling his entrails.  Chiron had his sword in his hand, but King Saiag was already in the air with his wings out and his arms up in triumph, while all the other aarakocra were cheering in celebration.  Saiag then gave the order to attack.

 

So it went, eight by eight, the army was being cut down, and soon they would be nothing.  More aarakocra flew overhead and rained down arrows and spears while fires were being lit to create the smoke, and before long, the aarakocra army behind them would get word to close in and flank them.  The centaurs and the werewolves, along with other few allies, formed a shield wall to delay the inevitable massacre. 

 

Lowe demanded a shield and a sword, but he was dismissed and ignored.  Soon enough there would be plenty.  He went towards the shield wall, to fight and do his part, but it was too crowded to push through.  An arrow came down, barely missing him and he looked up at where it had come from.  Above him was a ceiling of smoke, and he could see the bird-like creatures swooping and dancing over them.

 

Up. 

 

He yelled for his pack to climb up, to climb the walls, as it was the only direction left to go.  But none would listen.  If the werewolves, who were capable of climbing the steep faces, did climb up and out of the canyon, it would leave their allies alone, and dividing their already dwindled forces would, again, simply delay the inevitable.  However, it was not Lowe’s plan to flee. 

 

He knew the fires would weaken as they ran out of wood, and then the smoke would clear.  Lowe knew this was the time he had to climb, to use the smoke to hide him.  As he climbed, others from the Moon Valley pack called him a coward and cursed him.

 

Lowe climbed through the smoke and above it, where he found a ledge, big enough, he could stand.  Above the smoke, he could hear the cries and clanging of metal below, but it was muffled, and drowned out by the pleasant, fresh wind.  He could see the horizon, which he had not seen since they entered the canyon.  He thought the view was beautiful and it brought him some peace, it was another world here as compared to the hell below him.

 

The fires burned out and the smoke began to clear.  Now Lowe could see the fierce battle beneath him.  The battle looked like an angry ant nest as aarakocra warriors maneuvered above.  Without being able to see distinct features, Lowe could still make out Chiron in the canyon, just by the way he moved and fought, the awesomeness of it would time after time fill Lowe and the others with pride and excitement, just as Earnof had. 

 

Finally Lowe spotted what he was looking for.  He saw armor that was reflecting the sun, bright like a beacon.  It was Saiag.  With him was an aid, holding many smaller spears, handing them to the king to throw down on his pack and the centaurs.

 

Lowe readied now, looking down and building his courage.  As he looked down, the height made him dizzy, and he could feel fear consuming his heart, but Lowe was determined and he forced his doubts from his mind.  He waited, and waited, and then he jumped.

 

Falling through the air his heart began to race but his eyes were fixed.  There was nothing in this world, or in his mind, it was only Saiag.  He fell, closer and closer to the ground, and towards Saiag.  At the last moment, Saiag sensed the danger above him and dodged out of the way.  Lowe was sure he had failed again and now he would die, hitting the rocky canyon floor, remembered as the werewolf that let the great Earnof die, as the coward that fled from the last stand in the canyon, and now even as the werewolf who was too pathetic to even climb away to save his own life.

 

Lowe’s thoughts were brief, as he realized his speed at which he was falling was too great.  His speed was much faster than Saiag was able to effectively dodge, and Lowe was able to reach out, stretching as much as he possibly could, and reached a single claw to snag onto the tip of Saiag’s wing.  With that he pulled Saiag closer and with his other hand he grabbed a handful of the wing and then another handful and then another.  Still falling through midair, he pulled Saiag into him.  The aarakocra king lashed at Lowe with sword and talons, but Lowe was quick and clawed and bit back.  Saiag’s wings were free and he was plenty strong enough to carry both of them.  Their fall stopped and they began to rise.

 

Below, warriors on both sides took notice of the fight in the sky and began to cheer for whom they were loyal.  The two twisted and fought, Lowe was determined to not let go.  Saiag flew higher and higher and then demanded that Lowe listen to reason, that should he die, Lowe would fall to his death as well.

 

Lowe took a moment, panting and tired, he took in the view one more time, smiling with the fresh breeze in his face.  He then opened his mouth viciously and bit onto one of Saiag’s wings.  He clamped down and shook, but it was too strong to bite clean off.  Saiag screamed in agony as Lowe mauled and tore, and his bones began to splinter and crack.  Saiag used his sword and managed to stab Lowe twice, but then his wing broke, losing its strength.  The two fell, Saiag trying to control the descent.  Lowe continued to claw and bite.  They spiraled and flipped through the sky, and again the ground came closer and closer.  Anytime that Saiag would get some control, Lowe would twist and bite on the wing and again they would tumble.

 

In a final attempt to stop falling, Saiag spread his wings out to grab as much air as possible, but the resistance was too much and the wing snapped off.  The two slammed into the earth with an impact warriors could feel vibrate through their feet.  The two bodies were still.  Saiag was mangled and his body was turned in unusual ways.  Lowe was motionless, on top of Saiag.  Both armies stopped and it was silent.  The aarakocra, stunned and unsure at the sight of their king, the werewolves processing the loss of their brother. 

 

After a few seconds, Lowe opened his eyes.  Slowly, he picked himself up.  He was clearly hurting but he still had fight in him.  He grabbed Saiag’s sword and roared like a lion.  Chiron and the others joined him in his battle cry and Lowe led the charge.  The aarakocra became in disarray and the werewolves and the centaurs were able to battle their way out of the canyon and towards a more hopeful outcome to end the war.

 


Submitted: December 26, 2020

© Copyright 2021 Minion of Coeus. All rights reserved.

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