text: A Dark Duel A man sits alone in a forest. This man isn't particularly tall or short, fat or lean, but has a look of strength in him. Maybe it’s the way he sits so comfortably by the fire. Perhaps it’s the large great sword that rests on the log next to him as an old friend would at the tavern, grinning over his pint of ale. The fire burns brightly in front of this man, warming him and having thoughts about the next few pieces of wood that it craves so dearly. The forest, not so happy to be illuminated by this mans fire looks down disdainfully, wishing it could go about its business in the dark, like it had for eons. This man knows the reputation of this forest, has heard the tales of savagery that have taken place in between the dark pines that close as tightly as prison bars once one enters its foreboding gloom. The man ignores these thoughts as one does in such a place. Instead he focuses on his task at hand, the piece of bread and dried venison he harvested last winter. Content to enjoy his humble meal in the company of fire, forest, and great sword. The man wears bear pelts over his coat of chainmail, and a dark green cloak over that. The mans black pants are tucked into his mud caked black boots, mud that speaks of long journeys in far off lands and distant times long forgotten. Upon the ground rests a helm of fine steel, with intricate engravings of two bears in their final embrace of battle before a victor must be named and a loser vanquished. Set into the center of this helm is an emerald that glistens in the light of the fire like a vipers eye before it strikes. It is this stone that has caught the eye of the envious that lurk just inside of the darkness of the forest. The orc crouches beside a tree staring at the man, with the patience of someone who has lost all fear of men. To the orc this is his domain, the night embracing him as friend, lover, and partner in crime. The hoot of an owl, the creaking of trees and cracking of branches of unknown beasts in the dark remind the orc that he is at home. Such things that strike fear into the heart of the lone wanderer fills the orc with confidence and memories of many such successful encounters with men before. Standing two feet taller than the man, skin dark green with patches of black and brown tight over the orcs strong physique and broad shoulders. The black short sword of onyx firmly grasped in the orcs left hand with the right in a metal gauntlet clenched tightly over a dagger. The orc waits for the soothing warmth of fire and food to do its work. The man will soon forget where he is and will drift into a slumber like a babe who has had too much mother’s milk. While the orc ponders what one can buy with such a stone, the man’s head drops and shoulders relax like a donkey after being released from a heavy burden. The fire now has another companion. The orc creeps from the cover of the dark forest into the dull orange light. At this moment the man springs from the ground like a bird flushed from a bush by a hound. To the orcs dismay the great sword has been raised between them. With a look of confusion the orc takes a step back, wondering what could have possibly alerted the man to the presence of such a stealthy approach that even a wild animal couldn't detect. This moment of confusion leaves as quickly as it had come, the orc could still easily overpower a man such as this. With a running charge the orc cleaves the air with the onyx sword in the direction of the man’s head only to find the ring of steel from the great sword instead. A following short thrust from the dagger with the intention of disemboweling the man misses it mark by a few inches as the man whirls away into the darkness of the wood. The orcs eyes can see better in the dark than any mans could but still the orc struggles to see the figure of his foe amongst the gloom of the trees. Taking a cautious step back the orc kicks the fire over, sending embers, ash and smoke into night sky. Darkness now descends upon what once was the man’s camp. A few lingering flames only slightly illuminate the silhouette of the orc. Raising a stubby wide nose to the air the orc sniffs the air, smelling for the trace odor of the man that lingers in the air. Although the camp still carries the heavy stench of the traveler, nothing can be detected of the man in the woods. Only the smell of animal fills the orcs nose. A puzzling expression crosses over the orcs face. Peering ever deeper into the now even darker forest, the orc detects movement amongst the trees. To large to be a man, a dark shadow lumbers between the tall pines. The orc raises his nose again to the air and is instantly overwhelmed by a new stench, the stench of bear. From out of the gloom steps a monstrous bear, twice the size of a standard forest bear. Matted black and brown fur cover the massive body as the bear approaches the orc on its hind legs. Long claws like five daggers protrude from each paw each having a faint glow of green like a firefly over a misty meadow at night. The face of the bear is contorted into a snarl, with eyes as cold and as dark as the endless void above the forests tallest tree. Set in between these colorless eyes is a gem of beautiful green, an emerald that still glistens brightly despite the deep darkness. Now the wave of horror fully engulfs the orc like a wave that crashes on a pillar of rock way out at sea surrounded by nothing but endless water. The bear emits an earth shaking roar, that sends the forest quaking and small animals scurrying for cover. Summoning what courage the orc has left, he answers the roar with a shout of his own and lunges toward this new terrible foe. The thrust of the onyx sword is easily batted away and with a following swing of the bears mighty paw sends the orc flying back ten feet over what remains of the now dying embers of the fire. A large gash from four claws leaves the orc’s shoulder shredded and bleeding but unbroken. Rising from the ground the orc throws the still clutched dagger in the direction of the bear. Finding its target the dagger pierces the thick hide of the bear a few inches deep just below the left breast. Seemingly unperturbed by the wound the bear stalks closer, while the orc cautiously retreats. The bark of a tree halts the backward movement of the orc. In a desperate last act the orc leaps towards the bear again ducking under a lethal swipe of the bears left paw. From behind the orc jumps onto the bears back quickly climbing to its head and holding tightly around it neck. The bear thrashes from side to side in an attempt to free itself from the strong black arm that is cinched around its throat. Reaching down the orc manages to pull the dagger from the bear’s breast. Raising the dagger high above the bear’s head the orc brings the dagger down in the direction of the bear’s neck. Before the metal can find its intended flesh the bear jerks and the dagger pierces the thick brown hide to the hilt in the bears shoulder. Another tremendous roar rends the air as the bear begins to thrash even harder. The orc holds the dagger firmly in place while gripping the long fur in the other hand. Even with all of the orc’s strength he eventually begins to slip lower down the bears back. At this moment one of the bears swinging arms is able to grasp a leg of the orcs. Heaving the now defenseless orc up in front of the bears face the snarling mouth opens and to the orc’s surprise rumbles a few words in a voice like boulders tumbling down from a mountain precipice. “A mighty foe, a worthy opponent.” With shock and horror the orc glares at the beast waiting to feel the bears long fangs enclose around his head. Instead with a tremendous swing the bear throws the orc deep into the forest until a large pine tree arrests the orc’s body. With dazed and blurred eyes the last thing the orc sees through the trees before loosing consciousness is the man standing bloodied and panting by the embers of the extinguished fire, naked except for a helm upon his head with two engraved bears and a brilliant emerald aglow in its center.