PREPARATION
I
The ageless river-king appeared from the deeps of the murky river that snaked its way through the sheer mountain side. His bright green skin illuminated everything with a palette of green tones. He stood tall, proud and fierce as the tallest mountain, which dominated the countryside. His dark green eyes were cold as ice; his damped bear covered most of his large scaly body, unwashed rows of matted hair fell almost to his waist. Although he was strong, his footsteps were light and almost silent, too silent. He moved with a dose of gracefulness that couldn't be seen in the other river-kings. Fires and thunders, appearing from staff, shook the countryside. Fierce he was in his anger. Something deep inside of him, told him that things were about to change drastically for better or worse he didn't know. There was no way of knowing.
II
In Spikehorn,
IInosuke walked among the burial mounds. His pale, sweaty face shinned under the bluish light of the moon above. His nervous eyes watched in every direction. The night was silent, he hurried onward. Mist, so dense, that a knife was needed, creeped around the moldy, rotten burial mounds. Inosuke stopped, his heart was pounding. Strange things happened here, they say, on these mounds. A bloody battle happened here, some time ago, the accounts don't lie. How much blood was spilled on barren field, nobody knows.The souls of the dead warriors could find rest or peace, so they still wander this abandoned place. Inosuke didn't like these types of places. Who could blame him? Everybody avoided this place, if they had the chance. His luck was different, he had to pass this place and fast. He gathered his breath, turned to his and looked at the mist that was hovering above the mounds. His face became paler and paler. A half-rotten hand appeared from one of the
The emperor had to find a compromise soon. Vilhorn was a war state. They rode for days, without rest, from the capital of Vilhorn. The trip would be much longer if the roads stayed the same as they were in the first days of the new empire. Hundreds, no, thousands came to make the road a bit easier to travel. They were close. Going farther into the country, they have seen fewer and fewer villagers. The villages were abandoned. The wells were poisoned. The forests were burned. There was a shortage of food and drinking water. In the center, even a bigger terror awaited them. Most of the houses were in ruins. The fire was spreading everywhere. The villagers were dying, some from hunger, while some from exhaustion. General Souma couldn't believe that something like this could happen. They could feel the anarchy in the air. It was foul. How could warriors of their renown do this? There was no answer. It couldn't be imagined. Someone else was involved. But who was pulling the strings? They
IFereb, a few days later…The warrior hid in the lower branches of the oak. He waited. The patrol went to the oak, turned and continued on their route. He waited a bit longer. The way was clear. With eagerness in his walk, the warrior was closing on the tower. He stopped at the base. The tower was something that he didn't see anywhere. There must be a way up. He stopped to look. There was a way. The top of the tower has a forked piece. The warrior searched in his backpack, a rope he must find. He knew that it was somewhere in the backpack. But, where was it? He started losing hope. At last, under his coat, he found the rope. He swung the rope upwards.IIThe city was asleep. The tower was strange. Most people thought that that type of a tower could never exist, let alone stand on its own. But, the tower stood high above the city. The new bailiff, Albin, looked at the tower. His night shift was almost
IGrasmere, a few days later…In the backyard behind his house, the merchant Masaru was spending time with his family. It was quiet outside. He, this majestic city, was never this much quiet. This must be the first time, that they heard this much silence, since they settled here. Always, from somewhere the noise of the men leaving or entering the inn could be heard or the voices of the samurai that were patrolling the streets. This night was special. It was too warm for their taste."Finally, I can't believe it! Peace and quiet! A man could get used to this,"said the merchant after a short break. He was watching the rooftops. There was no snow, which was odd; the snow always fell in this time of year."I can't get used to it,"his son said, lifting his head from the scroll."Me too,"said the daughter. In her hand, she was holding a calligraphy brush."At least, the humidity isn't high,"the
IKing Halbern stood up from his chair. His face was stern. A lot of things were going through his mind. He nervous moved his head.Where is that alchemist?the king thought. In his lab, no doubt, I'll go and see him.The stairs, which led to the lab, were spiral. The king took one step at time. The lab doors were widely opened. The king stopped, stood there for a moment and entered the lab. The alchemist was rearranging the volumes that stood on the tallest shelf."Your Grace,"the alchemist turned, "how may I help you?""What are you doing?"the king said, standing near him."I'm rearranging the volumes on my shelf.""Anything else you are planning to do?""In the nearest time, nothing planned.""Good. Then, I need your help.""With what, Your Grace?""We need to locate a person.""What person?""Someone, I hired.""Where is h
IThe old man stood near the willow tree. He stood there, alone, forgotten. He was more than helpless; he was stronger than most men of his age. His face was stern. His nose was a bit bigger, crooked near the tip. His jaw was strong, almost anvil-like. His hair went in waves down his back.The children left his storytelling to play. Will they return? There are always those who will listen to his tales. He waited. Nearby, the children were playing with their own hand-made wooden swords. The man still waited, nobody returned. It was time to go. He turned, waited a bit more and walked towards the large, moss covered, building. His sixth sense was working overtime. One of the children was running behind him. He turned."Where are you going?"the child asked."It's time to rest,"he replied."Not until you finish your story.""So, you didn't forget.""No.""Good to hear,"the man stopped in his track,
IYamato lay on the ground with his arms stretched in front of him. Sasaki turned, looked at the city in the distance. His step is light, but firm. He walks, without a thought about the world. There is no one stronger and faster than he is. He knows this. Yamato was considered a great sword-master, he easily defeated him. The road was new, made in the first days of the new empire; it changed a lot of things mostly for the better. The distance between towns was drastically shortened. Sasaki walked. The forest was quiet, calmly quiet. The large trees with their crowns made a perfect shade. Outside, of the shade, the temperate was warm, too warm, even for those who are used to it. He walked slowly, enjoying the shade. It was his way of relaxing. The trees were perfectly aligned like they were making columns for an amphitheater. Sasaki looked at one of the trees, he remembered than one; all those years ago he climbed to see the emperor's army that marched through
THE BOOKThe public library, in Lorth, was founded by a wealthy citizen Quertin, whom the family disowned do to his failed political campaign. Every book he had, he gave to the library as a gift. The workers are still cataloging then, even today. People say that in the endless piles of books, there are those that are rear, extremely rear.The building, itself, stood long before Quertin was born, in the beginning it was a command post, later it was dormitory of student of magic. It had many more usages, until the town decided to expand the previous library.At the end of his life, Quertin tried his hand, again, in politics. Even this time, fate had a different card to play. He could do little against full-day and guerilla campaigners. Did he have another option? It's hard to say. Whatever the case may be, Two figures slowly walked down the large hallway. They were searching for something or someone. It matters not, they are ne
IAlbert walked with every possible thought in his mind, good or bad. As he walked the sword was near hand, the legendary sword. It was comforting, that one thought was more than enough to raise his spirit. He was near the opening. Down below the earth, placed in an endless cavern, the Dark One was preparing to be free once again. No one of the blessed had noticed that the world has changed, that everything changed, and that even the darkness around them changed. As always, there are is a group that noticed everything. He wondered in what group he was placed, even before the truth was told he know deep inside that everything has changed and he could fell that but couldn't see it.He waited. The Dark One will soon appear, he didn't know in what form and how much powerful he will be. He will appear.IIThe magical chains around Rolfheim, the first among the gods that created this world until he fell, slowly we
In darkness of his workroom, the emperor sat, thinking what to do next. He had a lot of options to think about. All of them look like the right decision, but on careful analyzes, every decision was wrong. He was at a standstill. Hours passed, he was still at the beginning. To him, they looked like minutes. Minutes, he spent in reviewing. There was always something that he missed.His grandfather was a great strategist and his father before him. Everyone in his family was a great strategist, but no one has a problem that he clashes with. The maps were scattered on a large, massive oak table, maps of all sizes and meanings. The oak table was from his great-grandfather's time. The north is in chaos and the regional lords are fighting against each other, it's more than a good time to attack.King against king, brother upon brother, and the empire was never stronger. In the year since he became emperor, the state has grown dramatically. No one had glorious beginnings, not e
TRAVELING STONEHjolt wandered through the dark corridors that lead to massive crisscrossed system of caves. Who knows how long did he wander? Darkness was everywhere around. He stumbled and tumbled in the darkness, until he didn’t found a brass hinged door. Naturally, he tried for the hinge, but the door didn’t open. He tried again. When he was ready to take a respite, a voice from spoke the following lines:"Once a dark-eyed Argan girlShod my horse.She asked for a small amount of moneyNot highly valuing her work.What’s your name, young lady?And the young lady replies:"You’ll hear my nameIn the clatter of your horse’s hooves."I rode along the street,I galloped the roads,And along the path among brown rocks,And among gray rocks.
I The border with Kirdan, stretched as long as the eye could see, the ground trembled with their gallop. They rode without rest, for days, swift as a wind, for they must deliver a message to Albin. Important news await, which he alone must hear. Their armors were the same; hard to spot the difference between them, the heraldry, which hung on their right shoulder, was the same; a yellow turtle on a green field, the sigil of House Transin. The bull horn-helmed knight stopped for a moment, looked at the worn-down signpost. His dark green eyes looked at the names on the board. He mounted his steed, turned to the other direction and galloped, the others followed in toe. "Kerd is that way,"said the first knight. "True,"replied the bull horn-helmed knight. "Why are we going in the opposite direction?" "Would you go to Kerd?" "No." "Neither would I." "That's the point." "You think that Albin
IThe year is 263 of the Ertail Age, during the tenth anniversary of King Kird's ascension to the throne of Northern Moscodia. Two brothers feuded over the birthright for the throne of Felard, who at the time was the center for the druidic brotherhood and the main trading center for the whole region Uthtira. The older brother tried peacefully to calm down his younger brother, but alas, his efforts were futile. The younger brother was manipulated by his wife Girtanna, who lusted for wealth and power of Felard. There were rumors that she had an affair with the older brother. Who knows is this true or not? Man with higher knowledge say that one of the keys to the treasure chamber of the late King Galbar is hidden somewhere in Ferlard.The older brother moved his hand across the cold marble of the statue; he looked up at the eyes of the Wolf God. He always wondered in recent time, do the all mighty gods ever hear the prayers of ordinary people and nobles.
IThe morning sun shinned bright in the first days of winter, giving a false feeling of warmth. Herbog walked up the creaking, dried oaken steps. He stopped, looked at the guards on the palisade. The guard turned to left, continued down the palisade. Herbog looked up at the sigil of House Aswar, a proud lion danced on the light breeze. He wondered was it a good omen or a bad one, he wasn't very religious, most problems he resolved with the sword, if you could call that large piece of steel a sword. The soldier waited for him to get up, Herbog turned towards the show-covered field; it will be a harsh winter, it always was and will be, ever since the new king came."I don't like it,"the guard said while covering his face with mask that hung lowered to his chest."Neither do I,"Herbog replied.The man turned, "always the same blasted weather.""It could be worse.""True, but still it's blasted.""I know."
Thunderbolts lighted the cloudless sky, made strange patterns, which the astonished viewers watched without breath. Never have they seen such splendor and might. The thunderbolts were a strange and mystical sight in these dry, desert parts of the Continent. It was unheard of, let alone witnessed on a cloudless night like this. It was a strange omen of things to come. The viewers watched as the thunderbolts glided across the sky, meeting in the middle and, once more, going their separate serpentine ways. The children were terror-stricken but had enough courage to continue watching. In the meantime, in a distant and hidden place, a child was born. Its fate was already decided. Tonight, the witches will come for it. A woman stood nearby; there must be something that she could do, anything even the smallest thing would change to course."Ashal rar' an el da raet,"the words stop in her throat. T
IRuins of the old hill fort stood on the top of the Hill, the Hill as it was called, was closer to a mountain than to a hill. Long ago, the fort was a place of splendor and envy. Now, everything that's left is a ruin, a home for the Dread King and his servants. The main watchtower was the only thing that remained same. In its prime, the fort hand at least five or six watchtowers. The dense, lush forest, that surrounded the fort, has changed beyond recognition.People, now a day, call it the dark forest. Once a mystical place, now you can only find ghouls and other creatures from nightmares. Even in the daylight hours it was pretty dark in the forest. The trees with their long branches looked like humans with claws.Wizertein, five months… I ride for that wizard, Jarden thought. He was astonished with the passing of time. To him, it looked like it wasn't more than two or three weeks.In the human tong, Waweren is Tuverin-
IThe group of men stood and debated in the large longhouse. The major sat in his high chair, which was decorated with two fierce eagles. "What are we to do?"he asked. He had a brooding face that saw seventy winters, each stronger than the other."We will have a wedding,"Olaf replied. "Who's with me?"The hall cheered."Is the choice unanimously?"the mayor stood up. "I ask again."Everyone raised their hands."The matter is closed. Sing men, let the hall echo."The stood up and started to sing:"Friends and kinsfolk met to deliberate To whom would they marry off their kinswoman this year? Rosy youth They deliberatedTo whom would they marry off their kinswoman this year? We want you to wed the son of a king Who has more gold than poor Roland has land? Wed the son of a king