Alanna

This is the backstory for my Dungeons&Dragons character (she fights with two swords, that’s relevant in the story). Enjoy!

                 The red-haired elf ran down the hill, eventually sliding when it got too steep. She took no notice of the thorns and stones scratching her skin. As soon as she landed in a heap at the bottom she rushed off again, back towards her village.
                As she ran, winded, to the little wall used to keep wolves out, she didn’t bother with the gate, simply lifting herself over it. One of the younger children saw her rough landing and tottled over to her, “Lana, wha wrong?”
                Alanna stood up, brushing her hair out of her eyes, “Nothing Gren. It’s ok, go back to playing with Melissa.”
                The little elf child ran off back over to the girl he had been building mud huts with.
                After insuring that the child was situated, she ran off again, finally reaching the leader’s tent, house, thing. She rapped on one of the small trees used to hold up the canopy roof. The leader of the wildelf tribe stepped out, appearing a little annoyed by the botherings of an elf who had barley reached hunting age. “Yes?”
                Trying to catch her breath, both from overexertion and fear, she spoke, “Group of tenish humans, well armed, on horses, headed straight towards our village, on one of the deer trails.”
                The chief seemed bemused, “Ten? We could easily take that number if they chose to attack, we have twenty well armed Hunters, a little band of humans could as easily do us in as a fly could a boar. The warning was well meant, if useless. I thank you, you may take a break from hunting for the day.”
                Alanna, having trouble keeping herself from telling Flinteye that she could just tell that there was something off about the group, thanked him with a stiff smile and left. She had been a Hunter for only a few weeks and knew that arguing with the leader as a young Hunter, an entire group that he had little regard for, might end with her not being allowed to hunt, or even keep watch, for a few months.
                It was later, at the evening meal, where each family sat at a fire and prepared food for themselves, that Alanna was sure that she could hear hoof beats. She shook her head, trying to dispel any lingering unease. As much as she disliked him, Flinteye was right, they could easily take a group of humans.
                When she could have sworn she heard the noise again, she excused herself for a second from sitting with her family, and walked to the edge of camp. Looking out Alanna saw ten, no eleven, figures dismounting. Reading herself to head back to the center of the village and warn everyone, quietly so that they would have the element of surprise against the humans, she suddenly felt like her muscles had decided to ignore her completely. Trying to yell out she fell into a deep sleep, as the spell blanketed the entire village.
                Struggling against the unconsciousness she could just make out voices, rough from long times yelling war cries on battlefields. “Make sure to check all the, huts, we don’t want to miss anyone, the boss would be…” the voices faded to be replaced by another one a few minutes later, “That should be all, wait, we have another one over here. Looks like the idiot elf actually saw us. Here, give me the knife.”
                A sudden, searing pain woke her from her magicked sleep, she tried to stem the blood for a second, but the wound to her throat was bad enough that she couldn’t breath, as she slipped away into darkness Alanna heard a voice say, “Where’s the next village?”
The cleric had been riding by when she saw a group of mounted men leave the path that lead to the wildelf village. Hoping that there had been no ill intent, she turned her horse down the little path.
Alanna scrunched her eyes tighter against the sudden light shining through them. Sitting up, she opened her eyes to the village wall, and the woman sitting on top of it. Alanna tried to rise from her seat but failed, and the woman hopped down and gave her a hand up.
She released Alanna’s arm then started speaking, “I am glad that you are alive, I was worried that I had done something wrong, or that the spell simply didn’t take.”
After standing for a moment in thoughtful silence, the elf responded, “Do you mean that I was dead?”
The cleric, as she clearly was now, nodded. “I am sorry, a group of people slayed…I’m sorry. I only had enough power to bring two others back to life, and they have already left.”
Alanna sucked in a deep breath, “Can you help me build a funeral pyre?”
The human nodded.
After the awful task of carrying bodies Alanna had noticed a ray of hope, her mother’s and sister’s had not been there.
As the evening wore on, she and the cleric kneeled next to the flames, the cleric praying, and her simply thinking. She would have to find her mother and sister, of course, and she would also have revenge on the humans who had done this.
The cleric had left after the flames died, and Alanna now laid the weapons of the villagers out, as markers to remember for anyone who came to this place. The last two that she set out she looked at for a while, her father’s, and her brother’s. She hefted, one then the other, then both. With a small smile on her face she found sheaths for them. They would help her to remember, and to seek.
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