The whip collided with the iron bars once again, and the crowd looked on in stunned silence. Bloodstone elves? More like backstreet Elves. They had the whole cast, the pretty one, the wannabe manly one, the backup singer, and the one whose name nobody knows.

  That one relieved himself in his pants!” A bigger elf, built like a pro wrestler, said, pointing at the man’s pants.

  The elves laughed, a few dressed in red robes and holding flags laughed, but the majority of Ollar did not. Each of the pointy-eared fuckers was evil. Rook made a mental note never to visit the shops with the red-robed loyalists within the crowds. The leader reminded Rook more of a flower than a person with pointy ears and little man syndrome. His eye twitched, and he frowned hard at the group.

  “Seems, your common tongue is lacking, General,” The cage elf stated. He didn’t understand what you asked of him.”

  “Fair enough, I’m out of practice. Jacob was it?” Aymus said, glancing at the fearful man. “Come closer so I can talk to you face-to-face.”

  “I can’t, sir…I’m in a cage,” Jacob stammered.

  “Assist him,” the general said, snapping his fingers.

  The announcers glanced at one another and prostrated themselves in a low bow. Why’re they doing that? The brawny elf held his hand out towards Jacob and chanted something in tongues. Jacob’s eyes rolled into the back of his head, and he fell backwards, crashing to the steel floor. He spasmed, coughing, as if he was trying to dislodge some food down the wrong pipe. Then blood flowed out of his mouth, nose, eyes, and ears. The crimson liquid pooled on the ground, soaking the cage, its occupants, and the talons of a nearby griffin. The bird craned its neck down and started lapping at the blood with that purple tongue.

  People in the crowd retched. Rook thought that he was going to be sick, but he couldn’t look away, no matter how hard he tried. Jacob’s body lifted into the air and pushed against the bars of the cage. He looked like a flaccid husk of a person, devoid of liquid or moisture. The skin on his face was dry and stretched. His bones cracked and shifted with audible cracks as the corpse was forced through, until it gave way to all resistance. The husk levitated towards Aymus until it hovered just within whispering distance. The elf smiled and said. “State your class, nothing else.”

  The elf dropped the body and it hit the floor with a squelching thud, the macabre demonstration cast a silence over the crowd. Most importantly, it squashed Rook’s hopes of fighting against the Bloodstone. They crushed him, quite literally turning him into a prune.

  Several audible gasps rang out.

  “That’s enough, everybody, calm down,” a voice rang over the crowd, followed by muttered whispers.

  The voice calmed Rook, washing away all the fears and anxiety. Instead of swimming in an open ocean with a megaladon, he now felt like he was floating in a swimming pool. He whirled around to see a group of warriors walking through.

  “We, the Order of the Sentinels, will speak in the King’s absence. He’ll get here when he’s finished with his meeting,” the lead man said, with a smile.

  The Sentinel leader stood straight-backed as he walked through the crowd. Deep frown lines were set in his face with rugged features. He rested his hand on the hilt of a curved blade, tied to his side. His piercing green eyes regarded the crowd with indifference. Then his face twisted into a scowl as he regarded the elves once again. He wore a silver plate armor covering all his vitals, over a green tunic and pants. A metal button was pinned to his collar, gold and striking in the sunlight. Two others accompanied him into the plaza, dressed in a similar fashion. The first a bald dwarf with a black braided beard that reached past his stomach. His hard face had a thick scar running from the top of his head in a vertical line, just below one milky eye. His hands rested on a red crossbow attached to his waist. Beside him was a massive torokin, bigger than any Rook had seen so far. The beast man carried a great axe on his back the size of a gnome.

  Seeing dwarves and gnomes was cool, but seeing a torokin carrying a great axe is hard to beat.

  They approached the elves and their sneering faces, and the glassy-skinned men seemed uncertain for the first time since being here. Brawny’s griffin scraped its talon against the ground, towards the lead Sentinel, but stopped when he shot it a murderous glance.

  “Do we not have a treaty?” The Sentinel Commander snapped, fire lacing his words. “Did you, yourself, not agree to this general? It’s bad enough that you go around hunting the helpless Conjured, for God Maker’s sake. Your kind never answered for North Goldwheat Village. Seventy-five men, women, and children gone.”

  “Watch your tone, you filth!” The elf carrying the cage snapped.

  The dwarf and torokin glanced at one another and nodded, seemingly ready for a fight. The general gave a dismissive wave to his compatriot.

  “We’ve dealt with the situation,” the general said, bored with the conversation.

  “I have no faith that you did.” Jensen crossed his arms. “Your filthy Bloodqueen will hear about this.”

  The brawny elf roared, fury twisting in his face. The general, however, looked more amused than anything.

  “You’re the Sentinel Commander, aren’t you?” The general asked, narrowing his eyes. He stared for a long moment before smiling once again. “Ah, how amusing. I thought you were like the rest of the rabble here, but it seems even I can be wrong. I thought your line died a long time ago.”

  The Sentinel Commander didn’t respond, but the words seemed to catch him by surprise. “My line will survive, your Bloodstone line will not.”

  This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  The brawny elf looked like he’d burst. Drawing his sword, he pointed it at the Sentinel Commander and whispered something to his griffin. The beast walked forward, beak snapping, hungry and menacing.

  “Uk-ti!” The Sentinel Commander called out. A bolt of black lightning came from nowhere, striking the elf and popping him like a balloon, raining gorey droplets over those in the crowd too close to the splash zone. There were two other bolts that streaked across the sky. Rook ducked at the sound of a thunder clap. People around him cowered, covering their heads.

  The spot where the elf was riding the griffin was blackened like the houses in the field outside of the Woods of Sorrow. The only thing left was a portion of the griffin’s beak. The other elves drew their weapons, and the Sentinels drew theirs in turn. The elf general smiled widely now, but waved his hand to stop the fighting.

  “Gilgari broke the treaty, so he was to die. Our vow is to never kill within your territory, capture maybe, but never kill,” he chuckled, turning to his compatriots. The courtyard was filled with the sing-song laughter of the pompous elves. “Your power is dying, Sentinel. When that day comes, we’ll be back.”

  The crowd slowly dropped to a knee as a man with the air of regality entered the plaza, followed by a small entourage. There was a sour look on his face, as if to say he was above dealing with these elves. His likeness was uncanny to the fountain statue, but if possible, he was even more arrogant.

  “It’s the King.” And “King Ollar the III,” others said. Many of the people managed to kneel at the sight of their King, which seemed to infuriate the elf general.

  Reina tugged at Rook’s shirt, pulling him into a kneeling crouch. “It’s the King, we need to show respect.”

  “Point taken.” Rook followed her gesture.

  “You have my gratitude, Commander Jensen. I’ll take it from here.”

  Jensen bowed and took a step back. He eyed the black mark where the elf was standing just moments prior. A look of disgust crossed his features, only for a moment, but Rook knew at some level that he didn’t appreciate doing these shows of force in front of people. That was the strongest show of force he’d ever seen, and he’d seen EOD use a care package to blow a chicken coop into orbit. Holy shit, they’re strong. His gaze followed the group as they left to stand at the edge of the crowd. Several of the elvish riders grit their teeth, their disdain barely held in check. The huge one looked like he wanted to bellow a war cry, curse the Sentinel name, maybe both. Only Krai was largely unaffected.

  “To whom do I have the pleasure of addressing Noble Elves?” King Ollar asked with a reverent bow, his aides held up the fur-lined blue cape.

  “I am General of the Bloodstone Empire, General Aymus Krai. It seems you at least know etiquette.”

  “Noble General, we are but humble servants of the God Maker, and hold the treaty with you in high regard. If there were ever any conjured here in Ollar, we would tell you.” The aides danced around the man’s hands as he excitedly spoke.

  “It is precisely because you are human that I do not trust your words, puny human lord.”

  The King’s eyes narrowed for an instant before returning to normal and biting his tongue. On his right, the aide’s eyes widened with fear. Rook imagined him yelling off with his head. However, the man gave a strained smile.

  “General Krai, I’ve seen one of these Conjured in the Wood of Sorrow.”

  Rook jerked his head to the speaker, and his heart dropped to see Roran Jax.

  “What is my father doing?!” Reina hissed at Rook.

  He shrugged. Come on, Roran. You’re not about to give me up now, not after all my help.

  “Father, you can’t be serious?” Reina began.

  “Hush, Reina, speak when you are spoken to.” Roran retorted, silencing his friend.

  “Yes, Father.” Reina looked like she had found turds under the tree on Christmas morning.

  Now it was Rook’s turn to be upset. How could he speak to his own daughter like that? The crowd around Roran was unsure of his actions. Some fearfully backpedaled, as if the whip would come any second.

  The elf leader urged his griffin towards Roran. “Speak, human. Tell us something worthwhile,” an elf in the back stated flatly. Know this, it wouldn’t take more than a mere thought to end your sad existence.” He held his hand up for effect. “A flick of the finger to end your pitiful lives. Had it not been for the signed treaty not to harm you unprovoked.”

  “His name was Ben Dover, from a small town in Pinnington. He ruined my wagon and fled with the Black Dagger goblins. They bragged about heading south towards the Maldoon ocean.”

  “Sire, these Black Dagger goblins have been a thorn for some time,” the bigger elf added.

  Rook’s heart fluttered as relief washed over him. The pang of despair disappeared upon hearing the fake name Rook gave.

  “Pinnington?” The Elf leader frowned in confusion. “It’s not a conjured state I’m familiar with. No matter.”

  “Just leave already,” Reina said, barely audible over the crowd.

  “You got something you’d like to say?” General Krai asked, urging his griffin towards Rook and the others. “Elves have excellent hearing, and the Bloodstone don’t take kindly to whelps speaking under their breath.” He stared at Reina, stroking his thin goatee. “A worm has no right to speak freely. Especially a female of the race you serve no more of a purpose than to pleasure, for the other human worms.”

  That was it. Rook’s cheeks burned, and his heart thumped in his ears like a blacksmith’s hammer.

  “General Anus Cries,” Rook said, with a mocking bow.

  The Elf leader grimaced and, in one fluid motion, slid down the wing of the griffin to the cobble below. There were audible gasps throughout the crowd. The silence, the eyes, and the shocked expressions were deafening.

  Rook stepped two strides from the Elf’s stupid perfect face. “It’s true, General, I saw a group of people wearing strange clothing running from the Woods of Sorrow, days ago, with goblins no less.”

  COMMAND PRESENCE ACTIVATED- Silver Tongued Bastard

  “Curious human.” The elf snatched Rook by the chin and tilted his head to the left and right, then smiled. “I can’t tell if you insulted me or not. It’s Aymus Krai.” He scoffed. “Be glad for the treaty the Sentinels set.” He basically spat, staring at Jensen, before turning his gaze to Rook.

  “The treaty, elf,” Jensen growled, taking a step forward.

  Rook couldn’t move; he was frozen, and it took massive concentration to breathe, let alone do anything else. The general smiled at Jensen and let go of Rook’s throat. “I was just checking him out, as you humans like to say.”

  The elf’s gaze flew to Rook. His fingers started to tingle, and his face grew warm. Before he knew it, the world went black.

  A notification flashed in his head.

  Elvish debuff

  Lingering paralysis (Gold)

  Elf cast lingering paralysis on you. You will move more slowly until you sleep.

  -5 stats to all skills

  Rook winced and, squinting up at the sun, groggily looked at the dark silhouettes surrounding him. He tried to sit up, but the pounding in his head gently reminded him to lie the hell down. Reina was squeezing his hand. What a sight for sore eyes. Rook had been knocked out before; he knew what had happened and what was to come. The blackout, then the headaches, and if he is particularly unlucky, dizziness and the pukes. In the corner of his vision, the red health bar was at 20%. Shit, what did that guy do to me?

  King Ollar kneeled beside him, much to the disdain of his aides. “So, you spoke up to the Bloodstone? I am in your debt.” He sighed, leaning in close to whisper. “I hate those fuckers…and Anus Cries.” A faint smile cracked his solemn face. “I’ll laugh about that until the end of my days.” Lord Ollar snapped his fingers, and from his entourage, two women wearing blue pope-like costumes rushed up and handed the lord a bottle. “Take this, it will heal any ailments you may have gotten from the strike.” He snapped again and walked away, his two aides and the entourage following close behind.

  One of them tossed Rook the bottle. It was the size of a miniature water bottle, which he might have gotten at elementary school. It was glass, and the swill inside was brown and twinkled as if it were filled with glitter.

  You have obtained cure all potion (Silver).

  Cure all potions heal both health and status ailments.

  Looks wrong.