The Netheron Chronicles by Joseph Black (the giving tree read aloud txt) 📕

of him, and his opponents would break through his guard and kill him with as much impunity as he killed them; less.
He let himself fall into the ‘feel’ for fighting, that he got into when in a fight, a bloodlust, a want to kill, and a feeling of peace that seemed to make time slow down, that seemed to sharpen his senses and make it so his muscles responded with ten times their normal speed.
The man on his left was good, he admitted to himself, but Tauren had been practicing with a bow for almost every one of his waking hours, priming his skill to perfect pitch.
Any brigand or robber would have dropped their bow and run when they saw their companion shot dead so easily by a cloaked figure, even though he appeared to be no more than a boy, and a young one at that.
But not this man, he was a tall grizzled warrior, lightly armored, and quick on his feet, obviously picked for the job of taking down well guarded messengers.
The instant Tauren released his first response to their ambush, he snapped off one last shot, and then swung a shield off of his back to stop any more arrows, and drew his thick short sword.
Tauren cursed violently as he saw three more warriors come running out from deeper in the woods to support their companions, he tossed his bow to the side, knowing it was practically useless against their armor and shields, and drew his sword.
He knew that if he got into a fight with any one of these men that could only end in the death of the least experienced swordsman, he would lose. He was no stronger or faster than these men, and he was certainly less experienced and skilled.
He used his biggest advantage, surprise.
Turning T’hune he charged the man who had just dropped his bow and as he rode by him released a heavy downward stroke, hoping to use the force of the trotting horse and all of his strength to crush the other man’s guard.
The man sidestepped and Tauren went flying past him.
Vaguely he saw Detrick charge for the three men approaching him from behind, and he mentally thanked his new friend for being there for him, but he concentrated on his fight for now.
He spun around in the saddle and jumped off of T’hune, the horse may have been an advantage but he was confident that he could take down this man without getting T’hune in danger.
The man waited for him easily, his hard grey eyes never leaving his opponent.
Don’t ever do what they expect; surprise is your best advantage against an experienced warrior. He heard Edrin say to him in his head.
He sighed mentally, and followed the orders without thinking, flipping his sword to his left hand he reached out and twisting a branch off of a fallen pine threw it, end over end, straight for the other man’s chest.
It wasn’t really supposed to do anything, but it surprised him, none the less.
He took his quick gate of surprise and slammed his sword into the other man’s own weapon with every ounce of his force. But it didn’t go as expected though, his fingers went numb and he felt the sword fall from his fingers from the force of the blow, but the other man’s sword was smashed from his grasp as well, and they stood facing each other for a moment before one of them reacted.
The man gave a grunt and dropped his shield whipping out a dagger, and, faster than sight, slashing for Taurens throat, but Tauren, just as fast, pulled out his thick, heavy hunting knife and blocked the strike.
Tauren felt his heart beat faster, this wasn’t going well, it was going the exact opposite of what he had planned actually.
He parried a couple more strikes but knew he wasn’t going to win if he kept up as he was; the other man was just too skilled.
Just as the thought went through his mind the other man slammed his armored fist into Taurens chest, and Tauren fell back, the knife falling from his grasp; stunned.
He looked up through his hazy vision, and saw the man, dagger raised over his chest, ready to end his life, fear washed through him, and anger. He didn’t want to disappoint Edrin like this. . .
But fate had other plans for Tauren, for the man standing over him gave one surprised cry, glanced up, and was separated from his head by the massive battle axe an instant later.
Detrick held out a hand, looking a bit worried, and helped Tauren to his feet. ”You okay?” He asked.
He looked around, a few yards away lay the three warriors Detrick had fought, dead, and beside them lay the man whom he had shot at first, right at his feet was the truncated body of his would be killer, lying there in a spreading pool of blood, soaking into the brown leaves. Nausea rushed up in him, but he held himself.” I’m fine” He answered shortly.
He had almost died.
This isn’t enough, he said to himself, if I’m going to survive in this world I have to know more, fight harder, and be better . . . otherwise I’ll end up like them.
It’s like that in every world, he growled bitterly to himself, and turned away.
Detrick laid a hand on his shoulder and nodded solemnly too him.” It’s okay, you’ll be fine.”
Tauren nodded in answer, feeling strangely grateful to his companion.
“We should get going here; this is only half of a Squad.” Detrick stated, after a few moments.” The rest of them can’t be far.”
Tauren sighed, an idea forming in his mind, and leaped up onto T’hune who had stood patiently by during the whole fight.” Let’s go then.”
They seemed to both agree not to loot their kills for now, and instead of doing so, Detrick simply went over to his horse and mounted, and they continued as they had before, Detrick was awake now though, and Taurens mind was very busy, considering the idea he had come up with.
It was midday before he knew it, and looking up Tauren knew they must be close to the edge of the forest. He felt slightly uncomfortable at the idea of the plains, and at the idea of leaving his forest.
The trees had slowly changed over their morning’s ride, and where now all tall, thin pines, the trail become wider too, though it was still oddly empty of travelers. He wasn’t used to pines, and didn’t like the way they seemed to make the forest more open, but he enjoyed the needles that they strew on the ground, they were softer and less crunchy than the leaves he was used to.
He also enjoyed the strange lack of impeding underbrush, smothered by the carpet of needles. A part of the forest he had grown used to, but the lack of which was a novelty to him.
Ahead of them he saw bright light between the trees and sighed.
They had reached their destination.
They had reached the Great Plains of Netheron.

Selected Survival - Part Two.

The frigid morning air bit into Tauren as he saddled T’hune.
The night before, Detrick had shown Tauren the route he planned to take to get to Duke Cazerones fortress far to the south, deep in the massive plains that covered much of Caraca. It was, for sure, a roundabout way, one that Detrick was hoping the Halavardes hunting him wouldn’t suspect him to take.
They would have to get out of the forest first, and then they would head down the mountains bordering the ocean, staying to the inland slopes, after some seventy-five miles they would reach a canyon by the side of which ran an ancient road, long since abandoned. They would follow it for another 40 miles or so before they finally reached the Dukes fortress capital; Vaetrion.
From the map that Detrick carried, Tauren guessed it would take them another four or five hours to get out of the forest and another three days at least to get to the massive canyon, going hard. Then, at the same pace, it should take another day or two to reach the Dukes fortress.
That added up to six to seven days, if all went well.
And chances where against everything going well, it appeared.
After getting out of the forest, which, in that area, was filled with all kinds of mysterious beasts, that, it was rumored, fed on innocent travelers passing through; they would have to leave the relatively easy forest trail and make off into the Great Eastern Plain of Caraca.
And the plains where hilly, rocky, and would give them a hard a time as their enemies could wish for.
After the plains they would have to find an ancient road that was practically a legend, and follow it, should it actually exist.
Needless to add, thought Tauren to himself, the entire journey would be constantly harried by the Halavardes hunting them, trying to keep them from getting their message through.
But Detrick seemed confident that they could do it, no matter how bad the odds seemed, and Tauren had reluctantly agreed to the plan after a few minutes of debate.
But they couldn’t stay in one place long, or a squad of roaming Halavardes might catch them un-aware, a squad much like the one that had attacked them the previous night. . .
That morning they had quickly packed up the few necessities that they had taken out, and then had gone and searched the dead, stinking bodies of the Halavardes, two of who must have survived, because there were two less than there were the night before, taking all that was worth taking.
He sighed, thinking of the corpses; he didn’t like the thought of having killed them, the thought that they probably had families