3. A Story of Another Land

A Story of Another Land


  • Everyone was bustling about, as the sun rose for what many thought may be the last time. They hurried to gather what they could and head to wherever they felt would provide the most protection from the gods’ wrath. Some rushed to caverns and caves hoping the planets’ surface would provide enough shelter. Others rushed to the largest cities where they hoped the power of the humanoid mages would protect them, and still others sat in their rocking chairs believing that the apocalypse was upon them and there would be no escaping it.

    The gods and goddesses of good and evil had been vying for power since the beginning of time… it was merely that they now decided to bring their bouts to the mortal realm for what they believed would be the final great war. However, the gods and goddesses in their struggle between one another had forgotten one very small detail, that the planets and planes they were about to fight upon held living creatures of their own.

    As verses three through five of the prophecy state:
    When the universe seems lost,
    And the stars no longer hold their glimmer,
    Hope will be found in those whom are the strongest.
    The strongest will rise to challenge the gods,
    And their power will have to surpass that of the gods if success is to be hoped for.

    When the world seems bleak,
    And the sun no longer rises,
    Those who have survived will find that power dwindles,
    That even the strongest may not see victory,
    Unless they find the magical powers among the planes.

    When the gods walk the planet,
    Those who are chosen shall know,
    Yet sacrifices must be made if they are to reach their final goal,
    Each will have a sacrifice,
    And each their own challenge,
    Again if they do not make the sacrifices willingly,
    And pass their challenges they will find that they are far from the victory they seek,
    For timing is everything,
    And everything is timing.

    It was on the eve of the fifth day that it all began; the gods had finally made their decent to the mortal plane and began their war to dominate the universe. The god of war, and territory, Grognack, chose to begin his conquest on the peaceful planet of Plythora. A beautiful planet with lush green fields of crops and plains going on as far as the eye can see, mountains that graze the sky with their brilliance and great forests that hold all of the planets mystical creatures. Plythora is mainly covered by solid earth, with only fresh bodies of water that glitter with grandeur that few other natural beauties could compete with.

    In the far north of Plythora an evil has dwelled in a land the commoners of the planet call the Untamed Lands. Grognack took the evil that lived in the form of strange creatures whom fought to survive the biting cold of the north everyday, and formed them into an army of hundreds of thousands to overrun the planet and destroy the peaceful lives of those who lived there forever.


  • Chapter 5

    Three Sisters

    Avalara grabbed Reya pulling her behind the side of the building and cupping her hand over her mouth. “Sis, you need to be quiet or your going to get us caught.”

    Reya nodded in response. She was a beautiful woman, short of stature but with fiery red hair and a smile that would stop even the most faithful of men. She had her hair tied back today and was wearing men’s britches and a tunic with a broad brimmed hat to shade that beauty from view.

    Sorilina whispered, “Now is the time, if we don’t do it now we aren’t going to get our chance.” She glanced around the corner, noticing no one was out in the front of the building.

    Avalara was a tom-boy, with a simple beauty of her own, though not one she openly flaunted or made any attempts to take advantage of. Where Reya had a smile she was known for Avalara had a scowl. Today the three girls were similarly dressed, as if to disguise themselves. They seemed to be sneaking about, watching for anyone that would give them away.

    Sorilina obviously the leader of the three sisters, kept her eyes sharp and darting around for she knew even though they were far from home they should be on their guard in case someone should recognize them. Moving forward and around the corner she led the three out from behind the building out into the dusty dirt road with the famous Mount Pyre off in the distance, towering tall among the low clouds that seemed to be drawn to the mountain top. She looked up to their destination, tripping over a rock as she was so intent on her surroundings she forgot to look directly in front of herself, catching her step and continuing on to the brothel. Now came the tricky part.

    The girls opened the door, reading the name of the place they were entering, The Shining Lass was what the sign on the outside read. Everyone in the place looked to the three as they entered, the brothel a mix of men from most of the races, humans, dwarves, halflings and even a couple gnomes. Quite a draw to a medium sized town, Sorilina was surprised at the mix. That only held her at the door for a second longer than she thought she should be there as she scanned the room. The men looked away from them as soon as they saw what they thought they were. Disguised as women in men’s clothes the three girls had come under the guise of being the more commonly known ‘dikes.’

    They found a table that was unoccupied and sat down, talking quietly to each other. “You remember the plan right?” Sorilina stated taking charge, making it look to any onlookers as if she were whispering something intimate to the two, smiling at the scantily clad women in the room and acting the part well.

    “Of course…,” Avalara turned her sisters chin toward her with a light touch of her fingers, and leaned in giving her sister a kiss on the lips sealing the appearance of who they were supposed to be today. “Now if you would stop gazing around, you’ve got all you need right here.” Stated loud enough for those around them to hear.

    Reya just sat back, blushing and embarrassed by her sisters, though playing the part of the shy one very well. Her meekness reaching out though to those around her, she turned, catching a waitress to the table and whispering something in her ear, the two giggled and the waitress walked away winking back to Reya.

    Sorilina raised her brow looking to Reya and that only made her blush all the more. Reya whispered to her sisters, “I have to play my part too.” Her ear tips and cheeks flushing red.

    Avalara and Sorilina couldn’t help but laugh at that having thought that Reya was just going to sit there and blush the entire time when they did all the work she had made the first move to approach one of the workers. The room was a pretty typical bar style with wood floors, a bar, tables set up to one side and the other side had pillows and blankets where some of the men were laying with the girls or had them grinding their hips on top of them. The establishment was obviously successful, just from looking around and seeing the number of people there in the middle of the day.

    Finally settling down from her laughter Sorilina gazed around really taking in her surroundings. Noting a back door that likely went to the kitchen, a side door to employee quarters, and a staircase in the back left hand side of the room going to the second floor. All made of wood, simply made though obviously well taken care of as they appeared as if they were scrubbed and washed clean to the point that there wasn’t a speck of dust in the place other than the dirt brought in from customers. She had heard of the places renowned from many though-out the continent of Quintarth, a popular region of Plythora that held the Mountain Pyre, The Great City Krindal, an elven court in GreenWood and the beautiful Lake Silver Moon. From town to town as they traveled she had asked about it, many curious as to why a girl was so interested in a brothel, but even more wanted to tell their tale of the place, especially after she had gotten a few ales into them.

    The waitress came back over with what looked like a ticket on a tray. Reya grinned widely, and excitedly putting up three gold marks on the tray in exchange for the ticket and then giving the waitress a few coppers for herself. She took the ticket, pushing it out into the middle of their table. Their ticket to gain access to where they would need to go. One gold mark for each of them, a high price, though worth every gold if what they were here for was where it was supposed to be. The three girls exchanged looks as if saying to each other, “Are you ready?”

    Sorilina took one more look around, this time counting the number of guards, one at the bottom of the stairs a big and burly fellow but it didn’t appear as if he had any weapons. Then at the door there were two others with their arms crossed, all large men, though none had any obvious swords or clubs, though she knew they would likely use a chair or something in the room that was at their access if needed. The girls had come in with no obvious weapons showing, but Sorilina knew she had twenty knives hiding in her outfit and her sisters were likely to have close to the same number. Hopefully it wouldn’t come to fighting, but it was better to be safe.

    Sorilina grabbed the ticket from the middle of the table, smirking to her two sisters. “Well let us go get our prize.” She grinned and her sisters stood following her, Sorilina held the ticket at her side as they walked over to the large guard at the bottom of the stairs. She wanted to make sure her knives were within reaching distance should anyone give them away before they got where they were heading.

    Approaching the guard she held out the ticket, showing him what they had ordered. The guard nodded and went creaking up the stairs the stairs screaming under his weight, though holding strong. Sorilina made a note as the guard turned that the man had a weapon concealed on his ankle and underneath the back of his shirt, she wasn’t able to make out what the weapons were but the knowledge that they did have something to defend themselves was useful. She looked back once more over the room, her sisters doing the same thing, Reya gasping at the site as one of the women on the pillows began dancing around taking her clothes off.

    They waited a couple minutes and then the guard came back with three girls coming down behind him, each in a flowing silk dress that left little to the imagination. With the heat the girls dresses were stuck to themselves with the perspiration wetting the dresses to show everything that was underneath them. Reya blushed even deeper, Avalara laughed at her sister not having believed it was possible for her to get any redder, and Sorilina smiled up to the three girls, taking in their size and measuring them with her mind. Each was human, each was small and all three would be easy to deal with, herself and her sisters hid their strength from view under their baggy clothes. She knew even though herself and her sisters were not nearly as large as the male guards, they would be able to easily overtake the girls who would likely cower and scream at the sight of any type of weapon.


  • Chapter 4

    Balrock

    “Who am I? I’ll tell you who I am, you just wait one damn minute and keep your mouth shut while I be telling you and you might learn something.” Balrock said, smirking slightly, and slurring his words through his teeth because of his awkward set jaw. “I tell ye, I’ve had a hacking cough ever since I worked in the mines of my clan. Me being a dwarf and all, we worked and lived in the mines for most of our natural lives. Though I am here in this city, what’s the name of this city again? I forget so quickly, I guess it must be those brews ye gave me…”

    “This is Krindel, the greatest city in Plythora,” replied Geoff, an old bard dressed in oddly colorful clothes, as he took notes on the dwarf’s story. He was writing down things to create a story of his own about this dwarf, Balrock. Geoff thought Balrock seemed quite crazy and would make for a good, comical story or song to add to his performance.

    “Ah… yes, Krindel, that is it. I was drawn to this city, though I know not by what. I merely felt an urge to come here, maybe it is all the women, or be these great brews. But whatever the reason, I am here now, and telling you my story Geoff… it was Geoff right? Never you mind, it’s not important, didn’t I tell you not to interrupt me? I thought I did, and if I didn’t, now I did… well anyway, my cough, and my clans mines yes. I was born into the life of a miner, being a dwarf that is quite usually expected. But I could not do much mining while I was little because I had no muscle to lift things. Dreadful thing not having muscle.” Balrock looked Geoff over and outright laughed. “Sorry mate, don’t know how you make a living like that, all those fruity colors and not a one muscle to be found.” He shook his head, finishing his laugh and taking another swig of the famous brew almost falling out of his barstool. “I would follow my pa on some days and grab the scrap bits of rock to haul out of the way. Yer could do that for me if yer wanted to boy, would help you get some muscle. I looked up to that man, my pa, good man, always working hard to protect us from everything and anything.” Balrock paused, taking another big swig of the concoction that the barkeeper had made him, though he didn’t know what was in it, and it did taste quite foul. Oh… well he thought, it gets the job done well enough. “My pa, when I was finally old enough to do some good mining in our mine that is… I found a large deposit of Ruby, you know that big sparkling red rock. Never knowing how much you know and how much I’m having to explain, best explain it all be my motto, that way I’m sure you know it all. I hoarded all them rubies for myself, made a good profit too, it being my first find and everything. Then my pa made me a coin with our clans symbol on it, the crossed axes, sort of a momento to remind me of my clan, and that first find.” He paused his stuttering speech, and reached into one of his pouches, pulling out a small red coin with crossed axes on it. The coin glinted in the light, and sparkled when Balrock flipped it into the air, and snatched it back again. He held out his hand for Geoff to see, “See this be her right here… though I don’t let others touch her because I value her more than my mothers teats.” He flipped the coin in his hand, showing Geoff both sides, and then placed the coin back in the pouch from whence it came.

    Geoff got a twinkle in his eye in seeing the coin as if it reminded him of something, Balrock picked up on the twinkle but was too intoxicated to give it much note. Geoff looked around the room, a likely nervous reaction, and then went back to furiously writing something on his scroll of paper. “Ahhh… yes, now is when the story gets interesting. Take good note of this here boy, you’ll be wanting this one to recite and tell people about that crazy old Balrock. Many call me crazy, but they don’t know what their talking about, for I tell ye that what I’m about to say is for truth, truth be told I am telling the truth. You got it? Sure you do.” Balrock slipped from his stool onto the floor, a plain looking stone falling from his pouch, which also contained the ruby coin. The dwarf quickly grabbed it up, as the dwarf regained his footing Geoff noted the dwarfs skin appeared harder than that of a normal person. “Well, best we move to a table, those stools be unsteady anyway.” Balrock remarked, brushing his hand-sewn pants and gruff looking tunic as he stood. He moved to a table and Geoff followed. Sitting down, “Alright, so where was I, oh… yes, the good part, see I keep forgetting, not a good memory. My pa always said you drink and drink and it makes you smarter because it kills off all the bad parts of yer head.” Balrock roared with laughter, and had a coughing fit before he could calm himself. “The good part, you writing this down close now? You best listen in, for after a few years of regular mining and goin’ about my own business I decided it was time to try somethin’ new. I decided I wanted ter be one of those stone lords you hear about, only problem is you have to be know’n how to become one to become one if you know what I mean.”

    The brothel was quiet that night. There was one group of men in the back rolling dice and grabbing at the waitresses as they walked by, other than that there were three halflings sitting at the bar and Balrock and Geoff. The room smelled of a mixture of freshly cut wood and ale, the barkeeper was an oversized woman who kept batting the halflings hands away as they would try to touch her when she would serve them another round.

    The door opened and everyone at once seemed drawn to look to who it was. The figure in the doorway was hooded and darkly clad, after giving him one look everyone went back to their business though they felt a nervous twitch as if someone was watching them. The figure seemingly glided over to an empty table and sat down, when the waitress came to ask him what he desired the form waved her off and gave her a gold coin.

    “Strange fella there,” stated an overly drunk Balrock, looking back to Geoff with his head swimming. “You got all that down?” He asked Geoff as his body swayed and his head tumbled onto the table falling drunkenly unconscious.


  • Chapter 3

    Shok

    Shok was born into a tribe in the Telennor forest, his mother and father were both half-orcs whom were part of the hunter, gatherer Ooglock tribe. They spent their lives wandering the woods and living off the land. When they killed a beast, they made sure to use every part of it. With only a few possessions, mainly wagons, that were made of wood. They cared for the trees, for they were their shade and their home.

    Shok was a very large half-orc, as a child the others in his tribe would look up to him for guidance because of his strength and size. His size intimidated others, and many in the tribe wished Shok to become a great warrior. Shok had different plans, plans that no one in the tribe could have ever predicted.

    The children of the tribe were generally all trained in the way of the warrior until they were large enough to fend for themselves. Because of Shok’s size he was considered large enough to fend for himself at a very young age and spent most of his time with the elders of the tribe. Three venerable half-orcs that seemed to keep some of their youth, though walked with staffs even though everyone knew they did no need them to walk.

    The elders of the tribe were whispered about, some saying they were dangerous, others believing they were saviors. But one thing that all of the others in the tribe could agree upon was that when an elder was around you did what they said.

    Shok learned many things throughout his childhood, as he trained in sword fighting with sticks with the other boys of the tribe, and was taught by the elders. He especially liked to climb trees. He usually found himself five to ten branches higher than the others he trained with, as they would race to the top of the tree. He was surprisingly agile for his size, and had become one of the tribes head scouts by the age of ten. He would climb like a monkey, almost swinging, though really jumping from tree to tree keeping an eye out for enemies of the tribe while they traveled.

    Shok was very interested in what the elders would teach him, and paid very close attention to his studies. His peers would laugh at him and make fun of him as they saw him wandering camp with books in his arms, but something inside him made him thirst for knowledge and he did not hear their laughs. Though quite intelligent, Shok was known to do stupid things because of his lack of common sense. He could tell you everything there was to know about a poisonous plant, but that did not mean that he wasn’t going to touch the plant himself.

    What Shok lacked in wisdom he more than made up for in intelligence. His intelligence was quite rare for his race, and many of the elders of the clan eagerly awaited the time when they could speak with Shok. Many of the warriors looked down on Shok, and lost respect for him because of his interests. Shok, though, could not help himself and found knowledge intriguing, always wanting to learn more. He soon grew to believe the fact that with knowledge came power and with power he would be able to save his dwindling clan.

    His boyhood friend Ritchnak often convinced Shok into doing things that he should not because of Shok’s lack of wisdom. Shok was convinced to eat a highly poisonous fetterweed that left him puking for weeks. He was convinced that he could fly for a time until he ended up riding in the wagons with two broken legs after he tried to jump from a tree flapping his arms.

    Shok began to realize, though he was not fully aware of it yet, that with knowledge comes danger as well as power. He was very close with his parents, well as close as half-orcs can get that is. His father, Gell, had seen his fair share of battles, though they really weren’t full-scale battles because of the size of the clan, on the grander scale they would have been considered raids. Gell was still part of the warrior sect of the Ooglock clan with a patch were his eye had been and two fingers missing from his left hand.

    Shok’s mother, Ovak, was gentle for a half-orc and took her turn doing the men’s laundry, maybe once every two weeks unlike the other families who would go months without bathing. She was proud of her son, but could not reason where he got his intelligence from, though she did know where he got his clumsiness. While gentle, she was still a half-orc and knew how to use a crossbow when needed.
    “Shok, Gell!” Ovak shouted through the woods as she turned the roasted rabbit they had caught for dinner.

    The father and son duo emerged from the forest not far off. “Tent set, we do good, keep rain out tonight.” Gell stated to his wife gazing up at the dark clouds congregating overhead.

    Ovak smiled, “Will, git here an’ eat, you two be needin yer strength.”
    The two half-orc men slumped against the log set next to the fire, Gell spitting and picking at his teeth, and Shok with his head buried in a book that he had been carrying with him. Ovak looked around and was pleased to see that their family had fewer flies buzzing around them than did the rest of the some thirty other family fires around the camp they had set up for the night.

    “Good ting you boys git the tint up early, I don like gitten wet.” Ovak gave a toothy grin to her husband, batting her oversized eyelashes.
    Shok looked up between the two and shook his head, preferring to keep his head in his book than say anything to his parents for he found such acts gross at best. He could not understand how any man would wish to do any of the things with a woman he had read of a couple times, especially when the others his age he had a hard time telling which were girls and which were the boys.

    Gell reached his hand out for the rabbit, still on the spit, and got a slap on the knuckles for it. Ovak glared at her husband, and slipped the rabbit off the spit, cracking and tearing off a chunk and deliberately tossing the first piece to her son. “He bin doin nothin all day, an he git first pieces?” Gell pouted and Ovak just came over to him with the rest of the rabbit, sat next to him and smacked him upside the back of the head.

    “Here, take it, yer done good, no reason to be sayin the boy did nothin, he’s doin somethin, yer jus not understandin’ it.” Ovak ripped the remaining part of the rabbit in half and gave half to her husband.

    The three of them ate ferociously, getting grease and rabbit bits all over themselves without any concern for it, Shok was careful not to get any on his precious book and chose to close it and put it in the large sack he kept strapped to his back. His ears perked up and he swirled after hearing the thud, thud, crunch of something heavy set coming through the woods behind him.

    Ritchnak stood with his hands on his hips and nodded to Shok’s mother with a mischievous grin on his face. Ritchnak always looked like he was up to something, no more than that, he always looked like a crazed lunatic ready to rush headlong into any fight with no fear of anything. This time however he had dirt all over his clothes and hands. “Shok, you wantin to see dis.”

    Shok looked to his parents who were too busy hitting each other back and forth on their shoulders to notice him and stood to follow Ritchnak who had already turned back heading into the woods. “What is it?” Shok asked after he caught up to Ritchnak.

    “You see.” Was Ritchnaks only reply.

    The two rushed through the trees, across a small river, coming out into a clearing with a hill that topped the trees in the middle. Ritchnak looked eager and waved Shok on already at the base of the hill, while Shok stood for a moment contemplating the clearing from the edge of the woods.
    “You come. Here. Dis be it.” Ritchnak stated attempting to get Shok out of the daze he seemed to be in.

    Shok shook his head and nodded. “I’m coming, I’m coming.” Rounding the hill Shok saw what it was that Ritchnak had brought him to. There was a freshly dug hole, burrowed out very large, Shok knelt and ran his hand along the rim of the hole in the hill and took a bit of the freshly turned dirt in his hand letting it sift through his fingers.

    “Wat be dis?” Ritchnak looked into the hole apprehensively awaiting his friends response, his leg twitching slightly with the urge to jump into the hole and run down after whatever had made it.

    “This is a hole, recently made, from the pattern here,” Shok pointed to the dirt, “and its consistency I would say it is probably the makings of a worm,” Shok took a step back looking at the size of the hole, “a great worm.” Shok smiled satisfied with his work and knowledge of the subject.
    “Come, we go.” Ritchnak jumped into the hole, running headlong, deeper and deeper, pulling his hand-axe from his back as he ran.

    Shok ran after him, chuckling at the excitement that he might get to see the worm, knowing that they are generally simple creatures unless agitated he looked forward to a fun adventure. He was a little surprised that Ritchnak was able to wait and come and get Shok before running into the hole. Then again he had to remember that as best friends Ritchnak wasn’t hell bent on rushing into deadly situations unless he had someone else along to tell the story with afterwards.

    “You Slow,” Ritchnak called back to Shok, trying to tempt him to take the lead, knowing that Shok might know about the creature but that he could probably convince him to go first anyway.

    Shok sped up trying to race Ritchnak to the end of the tunnel and whatever they would find. He stumbled, tripped over a root, and tumbled down into Ritchnak in a ball and they both went down and down into the earth tumbling head over heals over each other down the hole. Ritchnak used his axe to get leverage and stuck it into the dirt as he tumbled bringing himself to a stop, while Shok kept tumbling down the slope of the hole. Ritchnak stood, looking down the tunnel and letting his eyes adjust to the low light of the hole only to see Shok tumble down the slope and over the edge of a steep downward turn where Shok yelled as he went over the edge. Ritchnak ran, laughing, and jumped into the air coming down right behind Shok.

    Falling through the air, Shok struggled to grab the knife strapped to his ankle. Grabbing for it only to miss and bump his head against the side of the hole. He stuck his tongue out, rubbing his head, and reached for his knife. He grabbed ahold of the knife and pulled, finding the knife stuck. He yanked harder and the knife came sliding free, Shok’s hand flying up over his shoulder from the force he used to pull the knife out and bumping against the side of the hole again. With the knife out he looked over his shoulder seeing Ritchnak and his gleeful smile dropping down behind him.
    “OoofphHhh…,” Shok yelped as he crashed into the back of something he thought at first was the bottom of the hole. Shaking his head, his vision blurred from the bump… “AarRrGghhhhHhhh…,” Shok screamed again feeling Ritchnak fall on top of him. It was then that Shok realized whatever they fell on was moving. He reached out trying to grab onto something, but found only a slimy skin surface, with nothing protruding from it to grab onto.

    “We git it.” Ritchnak gleefully exclaimed, standing on what they both now assumed was the butt end of a great worm. Ritchnak moved off of Shok, and climbed up further onto the back of the worm, standing Ritchnak raised his axe high over his head and slammed it down into the worms tail. “Goopy, Gook, Gook…” Ritchnak sputtered as slimy worm blood splurged up into his face. He grunted and tried to pull his axe free, finding it was lodged tightly into the creature.

    Shok yelped as the creature flailed its tail that they were both now riding on and slammed his own knife into the things behind, clutching on for dear life.

    “Uh… Oh…,” Ritchnak stated as the tail flailed and he lost his footing, holding onto the axe handle so as not to fall as it seemed the worm had made a u-turn and was heading back for the surface. Both of the half-orc boys clutched onto their weapons as tightly as they could, hoping they wouldn’t fall as the tail violently slapped back and forth, Ritchnak getting slammed against the side of the tunnel over and over.

    “I don’t think it’s happy, we made it mad Ritchnak,” Shok shouted up as he clutched on as the worm seemed to speed up. Shok closed his eyes and then felt a burst of dirt showering down over his body and the smell of fresh air.

    Ritchnak spat blood, grinning gleefully at the ride through the underground, looking now along the great worm and seeing its immense size he decided it was time to let go. Ritchnak rolled off the back of the worm rolling into the grass and calling out for Shok to join him as the worm sped through the forest.

    Shok opened his eyes, thinking he heard his friends voice, looked to where Ritchnak had been and saw he was gone. Shok screamed as he was alone now on the tail of this immense creature that he could now see the full form of as it slashed its tail against all the trees it could, dragging Shok behind it. He heard someone say to let go, and finally did getting a mouthful of dirt as he crashed into the ground, losing his knife to the creature.


  • Years ago, hidden in a fertile valley, a small town called Facet went along unnoticed by the rest of Plythora. If this was because it lay off the well-traveled roads or because of some nameless protector, no one quite knows. The town had been set in its ways. Children went to learn with the wise man, Garbenee. Adults would till the fields and harvest the crops, while the venerable would tell tales of ancient beasts and wonderful magics. These stories were often played off as myth and pixy tale; only to be taken lightly, to pass the days between the harvest and planting seasons.

    Often the young boys would venture off from the town, acting their parts from the stories. They would fashion weapons from sticks and vines and wear tree bark on their arms for armor. Chasing one boy through the woods whom was dressed with a tail made of thick vines and wings sewn together from large green palm leaves. This would often end with the slaying of the mythical dragon.

    Vent, one of the boys in the town, never took part in these activities. Far too old for his years, he never had time for games. Vent was one of five, four younger sisters and him, and a mother who has little time for things other than caring for Vent’s ailing father. When Vent was small, still only a child, his family was carefree. The first twins were born, Terre and Lilly, and things became harder for the family. Vents father had to work longer days, and mother was occupied with the twins. The harvest season was most difficult; Vent was taken from his lessons with the wise man, and helped his father pull crops till his hands burned with blisters and cuts. Hard days during the harvest season led to sleepless nights for Vent, as he lay awake worrying if he and his father could finish pulling the crops out before the winter set in.

    Years went by and life seemed to settle into a routine, Vent went to be taught by the wise man during the winter and planting seasons, and then would stop going when it came time to pull the crops. Vent found he had little time for friends or fun, and little time to actually be a kid. Soon Vent’s mother gave birth to the second set of twins, Shine and Bless, After they were born Vent no longer went to the wise man’s lessons at all. He did nothing but toil with his father in the fields, scraping a meager existence from the soil.

    One year a man stumbled into town from the woods, looking gaunt and injured. The townspeople, amazed at seeing a new face, flocked to see him. They all asked him questions, though with his injuries he could not answer them until he had gotten some rest. The wealthiest family in town offered to take the strange man into their home, and care for him. Weeks went by while the man regained his strength, and some of the children would often gather at his window to peak in on him until one of the older folks walked by and scolded them. The children began calling him, “The Man from the Land of Dragons,” or Drekin Teris for short.

    The man soon ventured out, walking around town talking to people. Everywhere he went a crowd would gather, like moths to a lantern. He would tell his story, strangely it was similar to the stories each child had heard from the venerable when they were little.

    Drekin Teris called himself a monk. He said that people could call him Drakin Teris, as the children already did. He told of how he battled evil creatures; huge animals with tentacles, and gaping maws filled with needle like teeth.

    The children shivered when he told them of trolls so ugly and mean that to merely look at them made you go cold on the inside. Vile creatures that would kill you for merely being near them. Dragons and medusas who stole children from their beds, to bring them to their lairs and eat them. Soon some of the adults stepped forward and asked why he had made the long journey to their town. The man replied simply, “I was told through meditation, that I must come alone and leave with another.”

    This caused an uproar in the town. Children and adults alike would all beg to be the one to leave with him. They would tell great stories of their bravery and strength… Promising that they would be able to fight monsters and would not be afraid.

    Months passed, and the stranger had not left. Vent and his father went to plow the fields for next season. Vent knew his place was not with the stranger, even though he had heard the tales, he knew his place was beside his father taking care of his family.

    One afternoon Vent and his father were finishing a long days work in the fields, when suddenly the ground shook and threw Vent off his feet. The earth shook and quaked violently for several moments, then settled. Gaining his footing Vent stood and wiped dirt from his face, and coughed waving his hands in front of him as he waited for the dust to settle. He looked across the field to where his father had been, and now in his place there was a split, as if the ground had swallowed him.

    Vent ran across the upturned field to where he thought his father was. He dashed to the edge of the crack in the earth and peered down through the darkness. Deep in the ground was an eerie orange glow, like thousands of fireflies lived in the earth. Vent could see the form of his father lying in the pool of glowing water. He rushed to get help, and soon a crowed had gathered around the hole to see what had happened. They helped lower Vent down to his father.

    Vent reached the bottom of the crevice and glanced about noticing that all around him there were crystals that shimmered in the glow of the pool. He reached his father and tried to wake him. Shaking, and poking him lightly, when he noticed that the man lying in the pool was a frail old form of what his father had been. Dark hair turned to white, and strong muscles appeared to be withered flesh. He hollered back up to those that were still gathered at the top of the crevice, and they pulled him and his venerable father out of the hole.

    A week passed after they had pulled Vent and his father from the hole. No one could explain what had happened to Vent’s father. Vent had climbed back down to the pool and collected some of the glowing liquid in a vial to bring to the wise man. The wise man could not give Vent any answers. He soon became angry, and frustrated that he could do nothing for his father here.

    He decided that he could not help his father if no one had any answers to what had happened to him. And after exhausting every option he had he began to realize that if he did not find an answer his father might likely die. If he could not find the answer in the valley, then he would just have to go look outside of his town. He gathered his things, the few meager possessions he had. Tucked into the folds of his cloak and wrapped in velvet he carried the vial of glowing water. Then he went to Drakin.

    Vent found Drakin standing in the exact spot he had emerged from the woods from. Drakin looked to Vent and asked him why he wanted to leave the village for the world outside. Vent looked back at his town, then at Drakin and told him he did not want to leave, and that the outside world scared him. But he would do anything to help the man who gave him the strength to survive. He knew he would have to venture out of his village to find the answers he needed. Drakin nodded and then turned and walked into the woods.

    Vent took one last look back, then followed until the woods had swallowed them entirely.


  • Back at the Fortress, better known as Tairin, Athos was trying to attain some information about the northern wastes known as the Untamed Lands. Tairin, one of many such Keeps along the border to the Untamed Lands is meant to keep out the evil creatures of the north so the lower Continents can live in relative peace. Yet today a mystical, almost magical biting cold penetrated even the deepest of corridors in Tairin, and the mist surrounding the fortress had seemed to continually get thicker to the point that when walking rounds on the parapets you could barely see two feet in front of you. The garrison had already lost two men to frostbite, and another three to falling off the walls because they couldn’t see where they were going.

    “Have we had no reports from the scouting parties that I sent out earlier today, or those that I sent out two weeks ago for that matter?” sighed out Athos in frustration, as he stared to his advisor for answers. Even though he knew that he probably would only hear that they had not heard anything, and with the worsening fog it would only be harder for the scouts to even find their way back to the Keep. That is if they were even still alive.

    “Ganonmeed volunteered to go out with a scouting party today, if anyone can return in these conditions sir, you know as well as I do that he would be the one to do it,” Marrow replied.

    Marrow was a pious bastard, who was quite annoying at times. With his wiry frame and slightly quirked smile Athos couldn’t help but think that there was something this man knew that he wasn’t telling him. Athos stood straight, looking deep into Marrow’s eyes, looking for a hint of suspicion that would tell him if Ganonmeed had contacted Marrow through his mind’s voice warning of something. He could see no hints of such contact, and wondered how long it had been since Marrow had gotten any message at all from Ganonmeed. “Well Marrow, you are correct on that point, though I can’t help but wonder that you are holding something back that I should know about. This Keep is one of many holding back the forces of the Untamed Lands, and if you are withholding information that could be vital to our survival, than I shall eventually know of it.” He hated having to trust this man and he knew he had no other option because there was either Marrow’s advice, or there was nothing at all. What could be keeping all those scouts… he had sent out over ten squads of three and none had returned yet.

    “Sir, you know that there are certain things that my position allows me to know that I cannot share, even with you.”

    Athos was already aware of this. He knew that Marrow was advisor because of the information he knew, and that he would give advice on given situations but never explain why certain actions should be taken. Marrow had actually “persuaded” Ganonmeed to go on patrol, as if he knew that something was out there that required Athos’s best officer to come back alive from. He studied Marrow’s face again, sitting down on his iron throne. The throne was quite jagged, and took skill to sit in without being poked, cut or prodded by some of the outcroppings. It looks as if it had been made out of the shards of broken swords, hilts, ax heads, and other odds and ends from a variety of weapons. The rest of the room seems large enough to hold thousands if it were ever needed, though it hasn’t held that many people in years… The Plythora royal family had been cutting back on the troops they send to guard their borders to the Untamed Lands. They seem to think a couple hundred men a year to replace those that died would provide a more than proficient defense against whatever dwelled in the northern lands. He had been trying to tell them though, requesting more men because he knew that if there were still ancient creatures out there, it could take hundreds if not thousands to keep back just one of those creatures, never-mind if the creatures ever decided to organize. So he had to do with what he had, a rag-tag force of about ten-thousand, minus those he had lost in the past two weeks because of the increasing number of disappearing patrol groups, and deserters. What could he do though without knowing what he was facing… “How long has it been since you have heard anything from Ganonmeed?”

    “Almost twelve hours, and the last contact I had with him he said that everything was going as if it were a normal patrol.”

    Athos sighed with frustration yet again, his temper flaring up, “You are of no use to me right now then, and have no useful information. So make yourself useful and show yourself the door, I do believe you remember from whence you entered.”

    Marrow turned, walking towards the large wooden double doors at the entrance to the chamber, his ice-blue cloak billowing behind him as he walked the length of the green carpet. That one there is plotting something, whether it was plotting against me or to help, I am not sure, thought Athos. He watched Marrow leave, and then snapped his fingers for his servants to come out from their statue like poses along the wall behind him. “Fetch me my maps, scrolls, and an ink tool. For I have a message to send to my friend Galapicos.”

    The servants scurried about doing as he wished, some offering him fruits, food, and wine, while the others ran up the long corridors to Athos’s private chambers, where he kept his writings, books and maps. Why he always had to send them about to fetch his things from the last room he was in was beyond the servants, for they thought it would have been much simpler for Athos to merely climb the stairs to his chambers himself. They were not ones to argue though, for if they did they knew Athos would not look upon them kindly.

    The rest of Tairin was silent, as the men huddled around fires, gathering warmth from wherever they could. Those lucky enough to be in a room, hallway or courtyard where the few mages that were in the Fortress were found, the cold lifted away, as if there was some magical wall within which the cold could only slightly penetrate. Few walked the courtyard, and walkways with the fog though, and only ventured outside when they had to… those on watch on the Keep’s walls were given warmth stones, and regularly relieved for a warm meal. Athos could still feel something wrong in the air though, and knew that the message he was about to write to his friend probably shouldn’t even be sent because of the probability of the bird actually making it to its destination in this weather. He just wished he had some news from the outside, something that would tell him what it is that he faced. For he knew that this weather was not likely to be natural.

    Athos looked behind the throne as he heard footsteps approaching, seeing his servants come stumbling down the stairs with the supplies he requested be brought. He looked up still deep in thought, “Put those on the table over there. I will use them soon enough, now go to the main tower and make sure the birds are ready to fly. I will send three, make sure they are three of the best birds the alchemist has.”

    “Yes, my lord,” the servants replied almost in unison, as they bowed and turned going back up the stairs they just came down.

    Athos gazed towards the table where the parchment and writing tools were, admiring the fine woodwork and strange symbols inscribed into the legs and surface of the table. He let his mind drift, until he heard the faint sound of a gong and was brought back to reality. He panicked, his heart racing, almost choking him as it seemed to jump into his throat. He stood and received a scratch from a rough edge of the throne in his hurried rise. What he had always feared was now coming to pass… they were under attack. He turned to the remaining servants in the hall, “Write messages to all the other keeps, sending them warning of attack. And if you can get off enough birds in time send a couple south asking for an army to be sent north, because the creatures of the northern wastes are making a push south. And until I know what we are facing I cannot even say that we can hold them.”

    The double-doors to the chamber burst open as a couple of his lieutenants came in, walking at a brisk pace almost running to where the king sat. “There is no way we can hold sir, there are five large black beasts picking men off the parapets, and a very large number of drums pounding off in the distance. The creatures have formed into what would seem to be an organized force, our top priority should be getting messengers out and you to safety.” Agon, one of Athos’s most trusted friends and head lieutenant was a fine warrior, and held sway with many of the men within the Keep. If he was afraid of what was coming to attack them, Athos could only imagine the fear on the foot-soldiers faces.

    “I will not just abandon Tairin to the enemy, we have a large enough force to buy the scribes enough time to get the birds off and messengers out the back gate. I will not leave unless I know there is no other option. You would advise me to leave before I have even seen the enemy?” Athos felt worried that he may die this day, though he knew that if he did not get word south many more would die without being able to have at least some form of warning.

    “Hogan, organize as many archers as you can and get a mage to go with you to try to draw back some of the mist so your men can have clear shots. Felik, double the guard and get all the servants to bring up the heat stones. Have them issue one to every soldier a cold soldier is as good as a dead soldier in these conditions. After you are done with the stones make sure the gate is sealed and organize the calvary. Agon, you come with me, we have some spirits to rise if we are to hold Tairin throughout the night.” Athos strained to listen and heard the faint sound of drums as he watched each of his lieutenants turn and go from the room to their assigned tasks.

    Agon looked to his leader with dismay, “Athos you actually believe we stand a chance? They must number over a hundred thousand, and our men are half frozen and mostly green. They have not seen a battle of this size in years, and some haven’t seen a battle at all. You should be thinking of getting out of here.”

    “As I told you before Agon, I have no plans to leave until I know that the fortress is lost.”

    “But you could be dead before that happens…” a worried look passed over Agon’s face as he looked to his lord and friend. He knew Athos must survive, and was willing to give his life to protect him if it came to that, but he thought it foolishness to stay when they both could have easily escaped right now. He also knew that once Athos made up his mind, there was no changing it.

    Athos moved to leave the chamber, watching as the servants scurried around trying to get messages out and on their way. He glanced at the high-arced ceiling and nodded his head to the gods, hoping one of them may hear his plea and see him through the night. Agon suddenly rushed ahead of his lord, standing between Athos and the great double-doors that lead outside.

    “You cannot do this, my job is to make sure you survive. But I have seen the carnage that lies behind this door and there is no guarantee that I can protect you from it.”

    Athos seemed agitated, but composed himself with a deep breath, using the most commanding voice he had, to say. “Agon I have fought by your side for years, and today I ask you not to use your life to protect me, but to go into the carnage behind that door,” he pointed towards the double-doors behind Agon, “as my friend and equal. You must watch your own back tonight and I will watch mine, but I am not about to abandon all those men.”

    Agon sighed and mumbled something under his breath, reluctantly stepping aside and allowing Athos access to the doors. Athos stepped forward seizing the moment to open the doors before Agon had another change of heart. He swung the great double-doors inward and stared out into the foggy haze, glancing down as he could barely see the grand stairs that lead to the main courtyard. The tremendous pounding of drums now much more ominous without the door between them. He glanced to the sky as a shiver tickled his spine seeing an occasional flash of light in the distance and hearing the screams of the injured and dying. He thought to himself, what was he to do, he had to think of something fast because he was guessing he had probably already lost at least a thousand men and more than that to panic and fear.

    Athos continued forward, reaching the bottom of the stairs with his cape blowing in the chilling breeze and Agon at his side. “Agon do you know the condition of the battlefield?”

    “Yes m’lord, they came from above but have been concentrating their attack on the front wall and main-gate.” Agon replied as he ducked to one side avoiding an arrow that came dangerously close to his head. He stood back upright, and slid his great-axe from his belt, as Athos did the same with his great-sword.

    The two of them picked up their pace, moving now at a slight jog to a hustle, feeling the cold bite down as if into their very souls. As they began to run they saw men running, men dying, men bleeding, screaming, burning, and fleeing in fear. Some who saw their faces fell in behind them. Others kept running in fear, as the beat of dark wings overhead, and the pounding of drums sounded as if they were inside the fortress now, new screams added to Athos’s fear that the gate had been breached.

    Athos noticed that the fog seemed to be dissipating as he came to the wall. He stood in shock for a second, as the main-gate lay in tatters and a myriad of creatures poured through the opening. Wraiths, Orcs with crooked teeth, Minotaurs with blood red eyes and piercings all over their faces, and stranger black creatures that seemed to disappear and then reappear right in front of a man to slash his throat and jump to the next closest victim. He glanced to his right at the sound of a large crash, the air filled with dust and he coughed, seeing after the dust settled that the archers had managed to take down one of the dragons and were gathering around its body for cover.

    Athos glanced to his left seeing a mage trying to hold back a fireball that a dragon had spit down upon him. The fire sat spinning in the cold mist, so hot that Athos could feel the drips of sweat form on his own forehead. The mage perspired greatly, straining, holding, fighting to stay alive. However, he was not strong enough as his arms fell limp in exhaustion and he became a smoldering crater in the ground.

    Agon stepped in front of his lord, defending him from anything that came near as Athos seemed to be somewhere else, lost in his thoughts. “Athos the Keep is lost! We must get you to safety!”

    Athos nodded coming back to reality in time to split one of the creature’s heads in half that had been rushing towards him. “Rally to me, fall back, the wall is lost. Fall back!”

    The men closest to Athos fell into a circular formation around him, while others dropped their weapons and ran. Athos looked at the faces of the men around him, good men, every one of them with the look of determination upon their faces. Though there only seemed to be a few hundred and those that ran ended up face-down with a barbed orc arrow sticking out of their backs. “Hold the lines, back to the Great Hall!” he paused turning to Agon, “Agon take half the men here and move to my right flank to gather all those you can.” Knowing the numbers of men around him, Athos could not help but be terrified of the amount of men he had lost. How quickly the creatures had penetrated the fortress, and how many more men were stuck at their posts on the wall with no escape.

    Agon turned pointing to men to come with him and disappeared into the fog. Athos held his lines at a steady retreat. He glanced around himself looking for a mage. Seeing a group of them standing a little to his left he made his way through his men to them. “Is there anything the three of you can do to slow them down and give us time to retreat without being attacked? Because if we keep going like this I doubt any of us will make it back to the great-hall, nevermind out of the Keep and on our way south.” The mages nodded stating they would need a few seconds to cast the spell. “Ok, do what you can, I will make sure you’re protected.”

    Athos glanced back to his lines as the mages began to hum, weaving the power they needed to do whatever it is they were going to do. He noticed the men wavering and that his contingent was down to about a hundred men, if that with the ground seeming to be stained with a sea of blood. “Rally to me! Protect the mages and we may get out of this yet!” Men pulled back towards the hum of the mages, yet not all of them even made it that far, as two great white hounds jumped to the front of the enemies lines breathing ice that literally froze many of his men in their tracks. He hoped the mages could do something. He gritted his teeth and charged at one of the hounds. The hound met his gaze and leapt at him with his gaping maw, ready to rip Athos’s throat out. As the creature leapt, he side-stepped, raking his sword along the hounds side, and wheeling to meet the hounds eerie green gaze. The hound rushed Athos, pouncing on him and pinning him to the ground. It was all he could do to keep the jaws of the creature from finding his throat.

    Then everything happened at once and Athos found himself back on his feet, though he could not remember killing the hound, nor standing. He looked at the ground and found the hound with its side full of arrows. Then glancing around, noticed that there were only a few of the enemy in and still fighting among his men. He also noticed Agon returning to him with what seemed to be a much larger contingent than he had left with. “To me, Rally to me!”

    The three mages came up to Athos, “We put up a force wall that should hold the majority of them back for a while. Long enough to get those that are alive out of the Fortress and heading south at least.”

    “Alright then, you heard the mages, let’s get out of this hell forsaken land and into a place where we can rally and bolster our forces for a counter-attack.” Athos remarked to all those within ear-shot, and they cheered even though they knew they had done nothing yet.


  • Ganonmeed is a dark man who holds many secrets to himself, with long black hair and a rough look that would scare off even the strongest willed men. His cloak blew in the wind, and he grabbed at the hem with his off-hand, wrapping the cloak back around his body for warmth. He held his great-sword in his right hand as he walked through the forests of the Untamed Lands on a routine patrol. His face was beginning to feel the cold as it bit and nipped at his ears and any of his other unprotected spots of skin through the small, unpatched areas of his armor. He began to wish he had not volunteered to go out on patrol today because something on the wind seemed wrong, more than just the normal cold, it bit down to the bone, and rattled his nerves. Now that he thought about it he hadn’t heard any noise at all for quite some time. Glancing around quickly, he realized that he must have been absorbed by his own thoughts, for he noticed the two men that had come with him still following. Yet, when he looked up to the trees and around on the ground he didn’t hear the normal sounds of the animals as they chirped and frolicked through the snow.

    “Hey Halkum, something doesn’t seem right…,” Ganonmeed commented as he took another step through the knee high snow to his friend. Halkum is a wiry fellow who stood about five-foot, though he is known for his keen eyes and quickness.

    “Aye sir, the trees seem to be watching us, and the animals all seem to be gone.”

    “I don’t like it one bit, though there seems to be little we can do because someone needs to find out what’s going on out here and it seems to me that we actually volunteered to go out today.” The three fell silent, as Ganonmeed turned his head sharply to the sound of a tree-branch cracking underfoot. He thought about it for a second, looked to the ground where the snow came up to his knees, and then turned his head skyward because there was no possible way someone or something could have stepped on a branch and made that much noise in snow like this.

    “What is it Sir?” Halkum followed his leaders gaze, and then looked to Kamir, their third scouting-mate, a mute who carries a great-axe and looks like a giant of a man, standing at seven-foot six-inches.

    “Shhh… I heard something,” Ganonmeed said looking back sharply at Halkum, his gaze telling his mate that if he said something again he would make sure he regretted it. He listened, straining his ears, then the sound came again this time quite louder and seemingly close. He twisted around, turning his head this way and that looking for an assailant, now holding his sword firmly in two hands and gritting his teeth as perspiration showed, and froze to his face. “Come on out you coward, we know your out there!” He glanced around yet again, waiting as if something would jump out of any nearby bush or even down on top of them from a tree.

    That is when they all saw the creature, and froze in their tracks, wondering what on earth could have created such an abomination. Their fear lasted only a second and Ganonmeed led the charge, he swung his sword downward with a powerful overhead swing, yet the creature seemed to disappear just as the blade would have found its target. He twisted around to find Kamir hanging from a tree with his entrails hanging out, his eyes rolled to the back of his head, with an icy blue glaze over them. “What in the five hells?” He glanced to Halkum as if he could explain, but now was not the time to talk. They got into a back to back stance and began heading back to the fortress. Where the hell had that thing gone, what the hell was it, and what was it doing here… So many questions yet all he could think about right now was surviving as the adrenaline pumped through his veins he glanced around, yet again, searching for where the creature would strike from next.

    They backed up cautiously, Halkum with an arrow knocked in his bow, with more ready in his quiver on his back and Ganonmeed still in his two handed great-sword stance. They watched the tree line persistently; knowing that the creature would surely not just leave them alone. Would it? The sound of another branch cracking answered their fearful wait as it came from above this time with its clawed hands and feet; mandibles and thick razor covered tail all bearing forth searching for their prey. Halkum fired his arrow and had another knocked as soon as the first was loosed, the creature disappeared again before the arrow found its target. The creature reappeared right in front of Ganonmeed, flailing its claws, hoping to spill his blood upon the snow.

    That was a mistake thought Ganonmeed as he sliced clearly through the creature and a pool or blue blood poured forth from the severed torso and legs. The creatures torso clawed forward still hungry for its prey, not understanding that it was dead yet. Ganonmeed flipped the sword in his hands and plunged it deep into the creature’s head, stopping it inches in front of his feet. He let his guard down for a minute, taking a deep-breath to relax, and then looked around to Halkum as he pulled his sword free of the creatures skull, “Tough little bugger, haven’t seen anything like it before, and you?”

    “Nope, haven’t seen anything like that before, though I’ve heard stories of stranger creatures…”

    “Well at least we now know that it bleeds just like the rest of us, and if it bleeds we can kill it, though I would hate to think of what would happen if there were many more of these creatures…,” contemplated Ganonmeed, as he thought of what an army of such creatures could do to the fortress they had come from. The walls would be high enough to hold against a siege, yet if these creatures could disappear and go through solid objects, he shuddered at the thought. He finally broke the silence, looking back into Halkum’s eyes, “Well we had better head back and report.”

    “Agreed, I do not wish to stay out in these woods anymore than needed.”

    They turned their backs tot he withering corpse and began to trudge home through the knee-deep snow. Ganonmeed still held his sword but loosely in his right hand, as he bundled his cloak about him again. Halkum slung his bow across his back and followed his leader, stating, “What about Kamir?”

    “He is dead, not much we can do, unless you want to chance encountering a second creature of that sort out here because of the amount of time it would cost us to carry him.”

    “Alright,” Halkum replied with a slight undertone, regretting having to leave one of his friends to the beasts and crows after such a brutal death.

    They walked onward through the snow, as the sweat began to freeze to their bodies it formed icicle like protrusions. The forest remained quiet, and Ganonmeed still felt uncomfortable in these woods, wanting to get back as quickly as possible. He gripped his sword a little tighter as he felt as if eyes were boring down on his back. As he turned and saw nothing behind him besides Halkum, he sighed with relief, “Hurry up you oaf, I want to be back in the fortress in time for dinner.”