The Story of Veil
Little was left standing where the once proud city of Felirn stood long ago. The ruins were a mess. Deserted, run-down, and falling to pieces from the years of harsh weather and war. Veil thought it was hard to believe this was, sometime ago, a massive inhabited trade capital for the eastern parts. Veil had never planned to come here in the first place. That is, if it wasn't for Jarid's tendency to be forceful.
He insisted that Veil should seek out the ruins of Felirn, and find the ancient Kurak stone which was a great key to unlocking the secrets of fate. Going off on one of his usual rants, Veil was forced into listening: "This isn't a good idea." Veil pleaded, but to no use it was as Jarid stood firm by the cause. "You must understand, Veil, that this stone is very dangerous." Jarid explained. "For every moment that the stone of Kurak remains within those ruins, we risk losing it to the ever-advancing armies of Lor Malgoriand!"
Veil shuddered. "And what in the hell does this have to do with me?" Jarid paused, slightly surprised by the sudden impulse of Veil's words. "Everything." He spoke.
"Everything? Like what?" Veil continued, rather angry that Jarid was once again, seemingly trying to use Veil as if he were nothing more than a tool.
"Everything as in, saving Daragoth from certain chaos. Protecting the people that you care for from being destroyed. And most importantly, finally putting a stop to Lor Malgoriand's evil. That's what." Jarid was becoming consistently angry towards Veil, his dark blue hues changing into a more thunderous and clear shade.
Veil felt bitter and defeated, Jarid's words echoing through his mind like a nightmare. ".. the people that you care for.." Suddenly Veil reared out, angry towards Jarid. "You know my peoples were slain, how could you say something like that!?"
Jarid's expression shifted, grief flooding over the elder man's features as a frown crawled across his pale lips.
"Veil.. please.. I didn't mean it like that I - .."
"No! What do you know!? Nothing, that's what! I'm not some toy you can use to do your bidding and work!" Veil interrupted, unable to keep the brewing hatred clear of his voice.
It had been at least an hour since then, why Veil had came he still didn't know. Sighing, his legs carried him forward, the rest of his limp features following like a rag doll as he unwillingly continued. Veil was well aware, that Lor Malgoriand's Orcat soldiers must have arrived here already. But that didn't stop him.
Veil was tall, slender, and well built for an Elf. In fact, most people of Kray Eldorad said that Veil was something of perfection crafted specially by Felewyn herself. He wore light, fluted plate fragments, which covered only certain areas of Veil's body he deemed 'weak points'. (Those which he thought were weak, at least.) As for weaponry, he was not exactly armed as well as he could have been. A curved steel Zyshe, which was similar to a sickle, but rather than for tending crops, excelled at removing limbs.
He trained himself well with the arts of blade wielding, as well as the arts of hand-to-hand combat; known specially as Martial Arts. Though Veil had never really put his Martial Art's skills up to the test. He was also decent in magik and knew how to focus and balance himself in a battle. Having immense ammounts of strength, endurance, stamina, and focus, Veil was well above the average skill level of a warrior. But Veil never boasted himself.
"One hour." He groaned, his throat dry for the sweet and settle embrace of cool water, which was soon met. He drinked from a cold bottle of fine Elven water, settling his rasp throat and soothing his thirst. After he lowered the container, he'd place the cork back upon the top and hap-haphazardly lob it into his large pouch that hung from his shoulder. Taking a brief moment, his platnium orbs examined his surroundings throughouly.
"I can't believe this, it seems like I'm always the one who gets thrown off into these stupid duck-hunts by Jarid.. why doesn't he ever just go doing this himself?" Veil vented to himself. He had never really anyone else to speak to besides himself after all, besides Jarid. "'When I was young..' .. When you were young you weren't doing anything but bossing me around, dumb old man.. he tries to pretend like he did something important. Bah! Did something my ass, he can't even take down a practice dummy. I doubt he could when he was younger either."
The younger immature side of Veil was showing as he talked to himself as he stormed forward through the destroyed archway of a building, tangled vines and shrubbery strewn around the corners of the long hallway which lead directly to a corridor of chambers. Slowly Veil slipped around the corner of the wide path, only to be greeted by the cold embrace of a Ghoul.
The ugly beast startled Veil. It's long, lanky and decaying arms finding their way around the Elf, followed by the terrifying roar of defiance from the beast. No doubt this Ghoul had been expecting Veil, and it was prepared to shred him to pieces and share his corpse with it's allies. The shriek made him cringe, nearly going deaf by the horrid sound. Veil thrashed and struggled, the Ghoul's claws digging into his flesh as he attempted to break and escape the clutch of the monster.
Veil felt his shirt growing damp, the creature's grasp not breaking, but simply growing stronger as it's vice-like grip and razor sharp claws simply pierced and clamped away at his back. Veil felt dizzy, growing more urgent to escape the beast. How long had it been since the Ghoul had screamed for its allies? He knew he had to get away and fast. Slowly his hand moved towards the hilt of his Zyshe, nearly centimeters away as he continued to struggle with the ferocious undead.
His finger tips stroked and whisked violently to take grasp of Veil's Zyshe, the Ghoul unaware of this as it continued to merely rip and tear away at Veil's back. At last! His hand had tipped the weapon offset to an angle, his hand able to take hold and slide the weapon effortlessly upwards and straight for the Ghoul's arms in a sweeping motion. The monster had little time to react, taken off guard and by surprise as it's forearms were completely severed, falling to the earth below lifelessly.
Veil didn't hesitate, he quickly moved around a second time, the Zyshe slashed forward for the head of the Ghoul, Knowing that this was their weak spot. The horrid creature lashed out a screech of pain, only to quickly crumble backwards like a rag doll. Veil had split the creature's skull into two halves. The Ghoul's head was severed into two pieces horizontally.
The Elf thrashed backwards, throwing himself towards the exit of the ruins then, knowing that the Ghoul's back-up would be arriving any second now. Veil dared not turn back, fearing the sight of the dreadful fangs, the hideous snarl, and the terrifying claws which would shred Veil to the bone.