The Gods-War (Chapter 1-A)

Fila awoke to the subtle sound of a breaking branch underfoot. She remained still despite her first instinct to reach for the sword lying next to her bedroll and listened intently, barely opening her eyes to slits. With full awareness upon her, she discerned a group of large humanoids quietly threading through the dark trunks of trees surrounding her camp. The fire had burned down enough so that the meager light it cast did not affect her low-light vision and she could pick out the individual forms of what appeared to be five or six ogres moving in on the camp she had laid a few hours ago.1

The beasts were unusually large for ogres and they moved with a stealth that belied their cumbersome bodies. A few had weapons- clubs and rusty knives- but all of them were dangerous. Fila held her breathing down to the slow rhythms of sleep and slowly moved her hand toward her blade. The Five Attitudes of Battle cycled through her head as she awaited the inevitable attempt to end her life while she slept. One of the ogres crept closer with club raised high for the killing blow.2

'So stealthy!' she thought, and readied her leg to move underneath her and catapult her to a standing position.3

'One more step...'4

She exploded in a flurry of motion, rising to a knee with her other foot placed firmly beneath her and spinning in a lightning-quick slash that disemboweled the ogre before his eyes could widen in surprise. A bellow of anger and pain issued forth from the mortally wounded ogre as Fila continued the circle of her spin, leaped high around the back of her opponent, and sliced her blade through the vulnerable spot at the base of its skull. The head lolled forward and fell to the ground, the body close behind.5

Now that she was up and could survey the scene fully, she noticed there were nine (now eight) of the smelly bastards scattered about her camp, searching for loot. They had all turned to see the cause of the commotion and were closing in slowly.6

“Ok, you giant-spawned dragon piss smelling overgrown goblins, come and get it!” she screamed at the closest two, knowing they wouldn’t understand her but also knowing they would respond to the tone in her voice. She dug the balls of her feet into the soft loam of the forest floor and relaxed her muscles for the whip-like movements that moved her body in a blur.7

The closest of the two took another step then halted. He looked back to his companion and waited for him to reach his side before they both advanced on the tall half-elven woman standing defiantly before them.8

'This is too weird,' she thought to herself. 'Ogres have NEVER worked together! What manner of beasts are these?'9

Fila began to worry for the outcome of this battle. She was confident that she could handle two opponents simultaneously but the other six were approaching fast, having abandoned stealth. Running seemed a valid option but she could not bring herself to accept it so she held her ground. She rocked back and forth on her feet, assuring herself of her footing. Her mind automatically assumed the First Attitude of Battle- There are no opponents, only obstacles; there is no battle, only dance; obstacles will be avoided or removed and dance will flow freely. She felt the tension drain from her mind and it flowed from her body soon after.10

Her long, slim two-handed sword wove a pattern in front of her, gently swaying side to side. The ogres slowed, growing more cautious. She realized they were taking the time to let their kin join in the fray and assure a quick victory.11

“Fucking cowards!” she screamed at them and dropped her guard, standing straight and making obscene gestures toward the closest two. They could not be taunted. She resolved herself to what needed to be done.12

Fila squatted as if she were waiting and surreptitiously grabbed a handful of dirt and leaves. As the two closest ogres approached, she stood and flung the debris in an arc at their faces and moved in, blade whirring, right behind the distraction.13

She caught the first one flat-footed and lopped off the hand holding the knife. Knowing he would be out of the fight for a moment, she dove and rolled under the other’s attack, coming to her feet to one side of the beast. A quick slash and he was hamstrung. The leg crumpled and he fell to the ground roaring in pain and fear. Fila leaped and thrust in midair, taking him in the throat and ending his cries forever.14

Three of the stragglers had gotten within combat range and she knew the heat was on. Her mind drifted into the precision of patterns that allowed her to see the ebb and flow of the obstacles in her path. She reached to her belt and drew the dagger that she kept there, turned and flung it directly into the other wounded ogre’s eye. He slumped to the ground and there were only six.15

She slowly retreated to where she had been sleeping close to the fire, always keeping the remaining ogres in sight. They advanced relentlessly but with a little more caution than the previous ones had. She carefully backed her way around the glowing coals that made up her campfire and there she stood awaiting their approach with the dying embers between herself and them.16

Just as they reached the meager light of the fire, she bent forward and quickly dug her blade deep into the coals and flicked them straight at the closest of her opponents. Red hot chunks of burnt wood and ash rained through the night air. Once again she followed close behind, leaping the ring of stones that bordered her fire. The ogre was expecting it though. He brought his club around even as he flinched away from the cinders flying all around him. Fila lost the attack but easily parried the blow. She rolled to the ground and came up behind him, ignoring him for the moment. She leaped and tucked in flight, flipping head over heels and brought her soft-soled boots straight into the chest of the one behind him, knocking him off balance. She pushed off, straightening her body like an arrow, sword held before her and impaled the first ogre through the side as he was turning to confront her. She had a moment of fear as her blade stuck in bone and gristle. Twisting savagely, she wrenched the sword free and the ogre fell in a heap, still breathing- if blood were air- and he was out of the fight.17

Steadying her own breathing, Fila walked boldly toward the ogre now regaining his balance. His companions were close behind him but she paid them no mind. She locked gazes with the closest and advanced. Fear and wildness played in his eyes as she shortened the distance between them. He raised his club and bellowed, stepping forward to get his weight behind the mighty swing. Fila also stepped forward and let the club descend over her back harmlessly as she moved in as close as a lover to the ogre. Her steel kissed his neck and she was drenched in blood immediately. He fell back, spluttering and gagging on his own fluids.18

She shook her head violently to sling the blood from her hair. The last four had come all together and were shoulder to shoulder- a barricade of stinking flesh and corded muscles. Wiping the blood from her eyes with her arm, she began to laugh.19

“Aaaahaaa haaa haaa, more than half of you dead and still you come! Seems I have a little more fun for the night! Well, let’s not drag this shit out. Come at me, you dogs!”20

She reversed her grip on the sword and let the blade fall behind her hands. Charging straight into the mass, she spun and leaped, crouching in flight. Her blade was a blurred silver streak, never threatening the ogres. Fila’s tactics had changed slightly.21

Her plan worked fairly well for being spur of the moment and the ogres began to thrash around themselves, trying to catch the demon that harried them seemingly from all sides at once. One ogre went down in a spray of blood and brains as another’s club connected with his skull, caving it in. Fila spun once more into the midst of them and began poking and slicing, doing no real damage but infuriating the beasts into a frenzy of chaos. She darted and dodged with an unreal agility and avoided any injury until one ogre anticipated her next roll and scored a deep cut to her back. She hissed with the pain and rolled away from the melee, coming to her feet with a berserker’s rage upon her.22

The three ogres left standing had spread out and encircled her as she had rolled away but she saw none of it- she was in a blind fury. Her breathing had deepened and quickened- sweat drew lines through the blood covering her face. She growled deep within her throat and bared her teeth. The muscles and tendons in her neck and arms bulged beneath the skin. The ogres grinned thinking the battle won.23

Fila erupted in movement. The ogres barely had time to register that their deaths were upon them. The half-elven woman screamed at the top of her lungs and charged the one directly in front of her, slashing wildly- completely out of control. The ogre went down with a slash across the face that opened him from ear to ear across the eyes but one of the others had connected a numbing blow to her hip. She turned and lashed out blindly, reacting to the distantly felt pain. The ogre caught the blade across his chest and blood fountained. The other remaining ogre hesitated for only a moment, fearing the hell-spawn before him. Fila had not dropped the ogre with the cut and he shrugged off the pain. She turned and thrust toward the uninjured beast, keeping him away while she limped to one side, attempting to get herself from between them. The unhurt ogre saw her attempt and moved to keep her at a disadvantage. She turned to face him fully, disregarding the bleeding hulk behind her. Her sword swiped side to side as she advanced as quickly as her stiffening leg would allow. Just as she reached closing distance, her leg betrayed her and dropped her to the ground. She rolled to her back and, as the unhurt ogre leaned to finish her off, she took him in the throat with the point of her sword. Stupefaction filled his eyes just before they glazed over in death as her sword slipped easily under his jaw and through the roof of his mouth to lodge in his brain.24

She lay back, exhausted and moaning from the pain of the blow to her hip, readying herself for the attack of the last one. It never came. She slowly gathered her wits and rolled to her side, searching for the remaining ogre. He was nowhere to be seen.25

Agony filled her body and mind. She used the mental skills she had and dampened most of the pain but her body had taken too much of a beating. She raged against the darkness even as unconsciousness overtook her.26