

Locmire's Quest: Book One

A Tales from Calencia Novel

Brian Hutchinson

Copyright Brian Hutchinson 2012

Published by: Brian Hutchinson at Smashwords

# Locmire's Quest: A Tales from Calencia Novel

Copyright © 2012 Brian Hutchinson

All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976.

e-book ISBN: 9780991324125

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission from the author, except for the inclusion of brief quotations in a review.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, events, place, dialogue, and incidents are either products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to any persons, either living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

# Acknowledgments

First and foremost I want to thank God for giving me my creative ability, as well as everything else he has so graciously blessed me with in life. Without him, I would be lost.

To my wife, Emily: I want to let you know how truly appreciated you are. You are my rock, and I love you with all of my heart. Thank you for the time you have put into my book and for encouraging me to always follow my dreams. I will always support you 100% in all that you choose to do, as you have me.

To my parents: Thank you for putting faith in me and giving me the confidence to follow my dreams. You two are the best. Love you guys.

To my brother: Thank you for always being there for me. You are a great person and I wish you the very best.

To all of the people who have helped me with the editing process: My wife, Sean Maher, Melissa Prichard, Caleb Prichard and my beta readers, thank you. Thank you for the time you spent picking my work apart and for giving me your honest opinions. Without you, this book would not be what it is today.

To my editor: Christina Duncan, thank you for all of your hard work, input, advice, and ideas. Without your dedication and excitement, this book would have been a grammatical mess. My family and I thank you from the bottom of our hearts.

To Johan Jaeger: Your art work is amazing and I am honored to feature your art on my cover. You can visit him at http://johanjaeger.deviantart.com

To Chris Brumfield, my map maker: Thank you for your hard work and dedication. I know, at times, I can be a tad bit frustrating to work with on such a project, but you came through in a big way. I can never thank you enough. I look forward to working with you again.

To everyone else: Thank you for just being a part of my life. You are all special to me in some way or fashion. Donna, thank you for all of your input, ideas, and free time. Deanna, your excitement gave me motivation when I needed it most. Mark and Patty, thank you for the wonderful wife and the love you have given me. Tyler, I am proud of the man you are turning out to be. Love ya buddy. A big shout out to Red Squad! RS4L.

This book is dedicated to my loving wife Emily, my beautiful daughter Heidi, and manly son Bowen.

# Prologue

Throughout the recorded history of Calencia, two things have always been: Wizards and war. From its beginning, war plagued Calencia like an infectious disease, exterminating entire races along its path, and all the while, the Wizards of Fogarth watched and waited.

For thousands of years, the Wizards walked Calencia alone, but eventually this once desolate world gave birth to others. How these other races came into existence is unknown, undisclosed, or as is so often the case, simply forgotten. Many lived and died leaving behind nothing more than a footnote in a history book. Others thrived.

At one point in time, Calencia was home to the Wizards, Humans, Brazurkins, Dainties, Jaluts, Pranthers, High Engeniums, Forest Engeniums, Groots, Kwaynots, and Raptilians. Although many other creatures roamed the lands, these were the prominent races of Calencia.

The Wizards of Fogarth objectively watched each and every skirmish to have ever taken place on Calencia. Battle after battle they sat patiently waiting and watching as foretold circumstances unfolded before their very eyes. As none of these wars directly affected the Wizards, they did not feel the need to intervene.

War brought about the end of the Kwaynots, a peaceful race of bird-like beings, and the Pranthers, a volatile cross between panther and man. They declared war on one another over a small peninsula on the northern coast of the Free Lands, and eventually met their demise on the very ground they sought to secure.

The Jaluts, or stone people, met their unfortunate end when the Humans discovered how much more useful they were as highly prized building material. The wall around the castle in Galdarath has yet to require repair.

The Groots were a race of very small, very peculiar beings that lived in the forests of Lasticall. They lost a yearlong war to the invading Hoggins. The Hoggins, who had far greater numbers, slaughtered every last Groot.

The Wizards sat idle as war brought about the extinction of four races, but after thousands of years, the time had finally come. A war brewed that left the Wizards little choice but to become involved. The war, which would later become known as the Great War, between Calencia and the most evil force imaginable loomed on the horizon. If Calencia had any hope of surviving, the Wizards, for the first time, had to step out of the shadows and lend their aid.

The Great War

Ryker's heart momentarily ceased to beat as he grieved for the fallen warriors that covered the battlefield, lying closely packed like a cobblestone road. A thick blanket of snow covered the corpses, resembling an artist's canvas that had been splattered with red and black blood. The grotesque road of bodies led to the Onock, where the Great War would finally reach its end.

The Human King, Ryker Graystone glanced back at his men to see them bent over and panting heavily. They had become physically and emotionally exhausted from the seemingly never ending battle against the evils that had laid claim to Calencia. Looking at the multitude of bodies before them, the warriors courage began to fade. The look of impending doom upon their faces angered Ryker.

"Their deaths will not be in vain," Ryker said to his few remaining troops. "The time for vengeance is at hand!"

Their eyes and ears fell upon their King, desperate for his words of strength.

"This war ends today. Never again will the Dark Wizard terrorize our lands. Never again will he slaughter our families and neighbors." Ryker was now pacing back and forth. "Look at how far we have come. Think of the losses that we have suffered. We are not yet defeated, for here we stand! We will not be defeated by fear! Only death will defeat us, and I do not plan on dying today!"

Ryker's words sparked a wave of fury within his loyal men.

"The Onock is within our grasp!" Ryker roared. "Hasbarie must come out from hiding and face me. He has no other choice."

A song of steel on steel filled the air as his men began slapping their swords against their shields.

The Onock was an organic, magical life form that the Dark Wizard Hasbarie, an exile from Fogarth, called his home. The Onock was Hasbarie's safe haven and portal to the world from which he drew his power and minions. The rolling blaze of darkness swirled continuously, emitting a low hum and a putrid stench of rotting flesh; it was pure evil. It was the greatest threat Calencia had ever known, and the Human Savior, Ryker stood only fifty yards away waiting for the Dark Wizard to emerge.

The last remaining Savior had desperately battled his way past all of Hasbarie's forces, and he now waited for the Dark Wizard to appear. The Great War had come down to this final conflict between the light and dark, good and evil. Only a handful of the Dark Wizard's minions stood between Ryker and Hasbarie.

"The time has come," Ryker said, his breath creating a heavy fog as it collided with the cold winter air.

"What is our plan, King Graystone?" one of his men asked.

"We. . . kill. . . everything!" the Human Savior roared.

"Look!" a man exclaimed. "The Dark Wizard, he finally shows himself."

"My destiny," Ryker said under his breath as he watched Hasbarie emerge from the Onock.

The Great War, the rise of Hasbarie, and an unexpected unification of the races had all been seen by the Lookers of Fogarth. A prophecy revealed to them foretold of a Wizard who was to bring forth unspeakable evils that would ravage the land. That Wizard was Hasbarie, and, as envisioned, that evil had been unleashed upon Calencia. Endless hordes of his abominations poured out from within the Onock, along with the vilest creatures that roamed the farthest reaches of Calencia.

Hasbarie's most abundant and expendable servants were known as the Breathless. The Dark Wizard summoned these once living beings from within the Onock, or reanimated the bodies of freshly slain victims. The rotten flesh that hung from their bodies made them a terrifying sight to behold. Clotted blood and bodily fluids oozed from their decayed flesh, and their foul stench alone was enough to repulse most men. Whether summoned from the Onock or recently turned, all of Hasbarie's dark puppets appeared strikingly similar. The Breathless showed no mercy, no compassion, and Hasbarie possessed unimaginable control over these beings.

Regardless of how he came into possession of such dark power, he commanded the largest army in all of Calencia and no lone faction could stand against him. The Dark Wizard's horde destroyed villages, cities, and anything else that crossed their path.

Hasbarie's evil rose to power in the south, in a heavily populated area of the Free Lands. The Onock appeared from out of nowhere and Hasbarie's assault began immediately. Countless settlements and cities met his forces with insufficient resistance. Much of the Free Lands, later to be renamed the Dead Lands, became desolate after his forces ravaged the area. Hasbarie and his legion of the dead were indomitable.

During these hopeless days the races forged alliances that would have otherwise not been possible, but many seemingly impossible tasks are achievable when the world is in its eleventh hour. When realizing that their isolated military efforts were futile, the five kingdoms finally realized they had to consider a more unified approach if they ever hoped to conquer Hasbarie. The leaders of the kingdoms throughout Calencia, bound together by a common goal, put aside their differences to join one another in the battle against the Dark Wizard.

At the Calling of the Greats these leaders gathered and swore to unite and drive the evil out of their lands before their entire civilized world became consumed. The races that banded together formed the largest and most adept group of warriors ever to assemble. Driven by desperation and a glimmering hope that they, together, could stand against the greatest evil ever known, the newly mobilized army marched to the southern reaches of Calencia, where their forces would clash with Hasbarie's.

The Calling of the Greats

The rulers from each race lead their own respective army into battle. They were Calencia's final stand against the darkness. Collectively they became known as the Saviors. It was a tremendous accomplishment to bring the dominant races together to work toward a similar goal, and for the first time since the Dark Wizard rose to power, a shimmering hope began to rise.

The clear, chilly night that the Calling of the Greats took place, the leaders from each race sat around a large stone pit outside of Galdarath in attempts to find common ground amongst one another. By the warmth of a fire, they forged their alliance and laid out their plans for destroying Hasbarie. It was a night that gave birth to legends.

"What says you, Ronmar Elmidas?" Ryker asked. "Are you willing to put your conflict aside?"

Hesitantly, the Chieftain of the Forest Engeniums said, "Yes. For the greater good of Calencia, I am willing to put aside our differences, but only if Mazola agrees to halt the enslavement of our people. . . forever."

"Mazola?" Ryker asked. "Do you agree to Ronmar's terms?"

Smugly, the Sestian of Lasticall, Mazola Ferrini said, "No. No I do not."

"What?" Ryker asked as he stood. "What do you mean, no?"

"I mean what I said," Mazola replied. "I cannot afford to free his people. Who will work the mines? It is unbelievable that he would even suggest I consent to these terms. "

"There will be no mines to work if we do not unite!" the Human King exclaimed. "Put your pride aside and do what is right for our world. Calencia does not care about your mines!"

"Lasticall cares!" Mazola yelled as he jumped to his feet. "I care!"

Ryker came face to face with Mazola. He stared deep into the Sestian's emotionless green eyes for a long moment before he spoke.

"We can win this war without the High Engeniums, I can promise you that. Once we win, I will make you another promise. If you do not reconsider your stance, when this war is over there will be another war. The entire Kingdom of Galdarath will align itself with the Forest Engeniums and we will march on Lasticall. This, I promise on my family's name," Ryker declared.

Mazola's smile faded, his eyes narrowed, and the corners of his lips dropped.

"Are you threatening me, King?" Mazola asked.

"I do not make threats. Anyone in Calencia can confirm that," Ryker said as he stepped back and drew his swords. "I am a man of action, not one of idle chatter. I retract my previous statement. If you do not come to terms of peace, I will end this folly now."

Mazola was well aware of Ryker's numerous accolades and victories. Although he did not fear the Human King, he did not desire confrontation.

"Fine," Mazola said. "As of this moment, Lasticall will relinquish its control over the Forest Engeniums. They are now free to do as they please. I swear it before the lot of you. On one condition."

"Yes?" Ryker asked.

"If I release the Forest Engeniums from their life of servitude, I cannot allow the mines to go unattended. I will offer any Forest Engenium a decent wage and reasonable hours. All I ask is that Ronmar does not try and interfere if anyone accepts my offer. That sounds fair, does it not?" Mazola asked.

"Ronmar, this offer sounds fair. What says you?" Ryker asked.

"If. . . any of my people agree to such a thing, which I doubt they will, then yes. I will not interfere. You have my word. I swear it before the lot of you," Ronmar replied.

It was hard to say which was colder, the nip of winter or the exchanging of glances between Ronmar and Mazola.

"That settles it. You both have made a wise decision," Ryker replied. "King Noggen Stonefist, ruler of the Dainties, what says you?"

"A war, eh? The Dainties have no objections. This evil threatens my kingdom just as much as it does yours. The Dainties pledge our army to Calencia," King Noggen replied.

"Thank you, King Stonefist," Ryker said. "Your forces will give Calencia a desperately needed boost."

"Jezikilah Venumroot, Queen of Dead Marsh, will you fight with us?" Ryker asked.

"Yez, we'z fightz wiz you," she replied.

"Thank you for your support. I know that you and your people have not had the best relationship with the rest of Calencia, but I promise you that this will all change after today," Ryker said as he bowed before her. "You have my word."

"You are a mozt rezpectable man. Thank you for zis opportunity, King Graystone," she replied as she bowed to him. "Ze Raptilians will prove onez and for all zat we'z are not zavages."

"I look forward to the alliance between our people," Ryker said.

Ryker stood and turned to the Brazurkin King, Orgwak Skullsplitter.

"King Skullsplitter, can Calencia count on your support?" he asked.

"Yes. The Brazurkins are always prepared for war. We would like nothing more than a chance to destroy this Wizard," Orgwak said as he slammed his fist into his chest. "You know from previous experience that we have no reservations about fighting next to the Humans in war."

"I look forward to fighting at your side once more, King Orgwak," Ryker said as he grasped Orgwak around the inside of his forearm, displaying a sign of friendship.

"Very well, that settles it. We are now a combined force with all differences aside. We will save Calencia or die trying," Ryker said.

"That does not settle it," Orgwak interjected. "Who is going to lead this grand army? If we are to go into battle as one, we need one individual to lead. Who will that be?"

"Any one of you are fit to lead. It does not matter to me. The only thing I suggest is that each of us lead our own army into battle. Several different groups attacking as one will be a formidable offense," Ryker said as he took his seat.

"That is fine and well, but who is going to coordinate this battle plan?" Orgwak asked again.

"I zuggest ze Human King. He iz ze one who brought uz all together. He iz a proven warrior of many battlez," Jezikilah suggested.

"Yes," Noggen said as he stood. "I vote for Ryker as well."

"As do I," Ronmar said.

"Speaking from previous experience, I believe him sufficient to lead us as well," Orgwak said. "That settles it, Ryker. Your vote or Mazola's vote does not count now, the numbers speak. You will lead us into battle, Ryker Graystone."

Ryker stood, "It would be an honor. I promise that I will not fail Calencia. We will win this war."

"Ha!" Noggen laughed. "This is about the sorriest looking bunch of saviors that I have ever seen."

"The Saviors," Ronmar said. "That name suites us well."

"And that is what we will become after this war. This is a war that we will win. We must win. There is no other option." Ryker paced back and forth giving his speech. "At this very moment, Hasbarie sits with a smile knowing there is no one who can stand against him. He has already destroyed a portion of the Free Lands and killed many of our people. I feel he is over confident. He does not understand the will and determination of our people. He is a Wizard, he feels as if he is above us. We will show him that he is no god! We will show him what Calencia is capable of when we are united as one!"

Those words ignited a fire within The Saviors. They all stood, hoisting their weapons high in the air, each letting out a unique battle cry.

With all of Calencia's armies unified, and The Saviors leading the way, it seemed almost possible that this war could be won. The future of Calencia rested upon the shoulders of the unified races and The Saviors.

The Seven

The warring Engeniums of Lasticall forwent their hundred-year long conflict in a desperate attempt to defeat Hasbarie. For the past century the High Engeniums and Forest Engeniums had been engaged in a bloody war, which had no visible end in sight. Many irreconcilable differences had to be put aside, for the greater good of Calencia, before the warring factions were able to come to terms of peace.

The High Engeniums of Lasticall were extremely wealthy and lived in lavish, tower-like homes. Adorned in fine silk robes threaded with gold, they became widely recognized for their flowing silver hair, unblemished faces, bronzed skin, and long pronounced chins that universally distinguish the Engeniums. They were an exceptionally prosperous race and well respected throughout Calencia. Although they seemed noble and just, their wealth was acquired through the blood and sweat of the enslaved Forest Engeniums, for whom the High Engeniums showed absolutely no compassion. A great number of Forest Engeniums had been literally worked to death in the gold mines.

The Forest Engeniums, the total opposite of the High Engeniums, were meager scavengers who lived in the forests adjoining the city of Lasticall. Although they looked very similar to the High Engeniums, and considered by many a relative to their race, the Forest Engeniums were a different race entirely. They looked just like the High Engeniums: silver hair, bronze skin, and pointy chins. The attribute that set their race apart from that of the High Engeniums, however, was their connection with nature. When a newborn Forest Engenium came into the world, leaves that would eventually wilt away covered the child from head to toe. It was believed that they were actually part of nature itself. They could speak with the animals, hear the whispers of the plant life, and on rare occasions, actually use the forest to aid them in battle.

With the construction of Lasticall, the Forest Engeniums became stepping stones for their wealthy counterparts. They did not sport the lavish garments of the High Engeniums. Instead, they wore fur clothing made from the remains of their meals. No one served them their food, medicine for the sick did not come easily, and they had very little means of defending themselves from invaders, both foreign and domestic. They were an oppressed race with little hope of altering their circumstances.

Residing in expertly built log dwellings, but lacking the security of a walled in city, the Forest Engeniums remained at their utmost level of alertness, mainly due to the raids by the High Engeniums on their villages to harvest more Forest Engeniums to work in the mines. The High Engeniums relentlessly raided their homes, taking any extra food and illegal weapons that the Forest Engeniums had procured. By taking these things, the High Engeniums crushed any hopes of insurgency.

After years of slaving in the mines, the disgruntled Forest Engeniums finally turned on their masters. Armed with bows and spears, which they somehow managed to keep secret, they began a violent revolt against their kin, which became one of the longest and bloodiest conflicts ever fought in Calencia.

Once the revolt started, the Forest Engeniums committed an act out of self-preservation that they would have never before even considered; they shaved their heads. After the revolt, it became mandatory practice for all Forest Engeniums to keep their heads cleanly shaven to prevent High Engeniums from sneaking into their territory, as well as preventing any further attempts made to make off with their people. This tactic worked well for a while, but eventually the High Engeniums, acknowledging that their hair would grow back, began to shed their silver locks in order to blend in with the Forest Engeniums. This prompted the Forest Engeniums to take a more drastic approach. They began to tattoo their faces with green ink. It had been considered that a High Engenium might have been willing to cut their hair to disguise themselves as a Forest Engenium, but the Forest Engeniums knew that their narcissistic counter parts would never do something to permanently scar their good looks. Once they began inking their faces green, not once did a High Engenium manage to unknowingly infiltrate their territory.

Even though the Forest Engeniums did not have the durable armor or the golden weapons that the High Engeniums possessed, they kept their revolt going for a very long time, and to everyone's surprise, they did a fair job at defending their villages. The Forest Engeniums outnumbered the High Engeniums five to one. They used the forest and their greater numbers to their advantage, ambushing their rich oppressors at every opportunity. Eventually, the Forest Engeniums began to build confidence in their battle abilities. By using the art of surprise and their connection with nature, they won several key battles against the High Engeniums. They did not need the walled fortress of Lasticall. They had the forest itself.

Their hundred-year long war came to an abrupt end after the emergence of Hasbarie and their unexpected civil union at the Calling of the Greats.

The years of hatred and pent up aggression toward one another spilled over onto the battlefields of the Great War. The Engeniums silenced the cries of an incalculable number of the Breathless with an incessant barrage of arrows, flying rapidly and recklessly, darkening the sky over the bloody battlefield. When Hasbarie's forces surrounded them, they united in a large circle, as one race. With their swords drawn, the Engeniums cut down thousands of the Breathless. After a valiant effort, greater numbers finally overcame them. The last two Engeniums, Mazola Ferrini and Ronmar Elmidas fought as one until the life left their slain bodies.

Their finely crafted bows and golden long swords littered the landscape. The golden armor of the High Engeniums, and the hide armor of the Forest Engeniums provided little safeguard against the Dark Wizard and his army of decomposing corpses. On this day, every Engenium became equal.

The Dainties emerged from underneath their mountain home of Pizenchaffe to join Calencia's newly formed army in the Great War. This marked the first time they had surfaced in all recorded history.

The Dainties looked strikingly similar to one another. Most of them were as wide as they were tall, reaching no more than three feet in height. Their bodies resembled the letter "Y', as it tapered significantly from their chest down to their legs. The male Dainties, and some of the females, sported long beards riddled with many braids. They treasured their beards, as most would treasure a child. With hands trice the size of an average Human's hands, the tiny Dainties almost looked comical. Their large hands came in handy when wielding their oversized weapons and even more so when holding their large tankards in the city's numerous jobs.

The entire Daintish kingdom, both male and female, adult and child, ascended to the surface to take part in the battle. It took several days after their emergence to adapt to the blinding sunlight. Once their eyes adjusted to the sun, the pale skinned Dainties stormed down from Mt. Pizenchaffe onto the battlefield near the Onock. They joined the fight, wielding oversized battle axes, war hammers, and great swords. The Daintish tools of war were exceptionally extraordinary due to the precious ore from which they were crafted. They forged them from pizenore, a rare ore only found under the mountains of Pizenchaffe. Pizenore weapons and armor were unimaginably sturdy and durable, and the edges that their highly skilled smiths could fashion were unrivaled by even the most skilled ore workers of Calencia.

On the day of the Great War, the small burly warriors would soon wish they had stayed in their underground labyrinth. They joined the armies of Calencia to increase the odds of victory, knowing that Hasbarie would not be content with ownership of the surface when such sought after treasure lay beneath his feet. The Dainties, who were astonishingly strong for their size, tore through hordes of the Breathless like tiny buzz saws. With their pizenore weapons, they decimated countless numbers of the Breathless with reckless abandonment. The Dainties helped turn the tide for the Saviors, shouting to the heavens as they met their fate, with King Noggen Stonefist leading the charge.

As time has proven over and over again, recklessness often brings about unforeseeable circumstances. Once they neared the Onock, an eruption came from the ground that opened the bowels of the earth. Engulfed in a great black cloud that rose from the ground, the Dainties were no more. The last thing anyone ever recalled about the vanishing of the Dainties was the loud, excruciating cries coming from within the black cloud. After a few minutes the cloud vanished, along with the Dainties. Till this day, no one knows exactly what the black cloud was or the whereabouts of the Dainties. It is remembered as the greatest disappearing act ever performed.

For years after the final conflict, the Dainties had been thought by many to have become extinct. Scavengers plunder the battlefield where the Onock once stood, even to this day in hopes of finding valuable jewels and pizenore weapons or armor left behind by the fallen Daintish warriors. Such a rare find would bring unimaginable riches to a fortunate treasure hunter. Numerous attempts have been made to infiltrate their underground kingdom, but no one has ever had the luck of finding the entrance, yet.

Widely misunderstood, the Raptilians, a race of lizard people from Dead Marsh, hastened to join the armies of Calencia in the effort to defeat Hasbarie.

The Raptilians were extremely tall for a humanoid race, with the average height pushing nearly seven feet. Their scaly lizard-like skin, long tails, sharp fangs, claws, and a set of gills protruding from the side of their necks, made them a very intimidating sight to behold. Most of the races avoided the Raptilians, mostly out of ignorance and fear.

A peaceful race of hunters and gatherers living off of the marshes, the Raptilians utilized all the land had to offer. They excelled at trapping, hunting, and fishing. The Raptilians had an uncanny knack for concealing themselves, taking advantage of the cover that the marshes offered. It was not wise to venture into Dead Marsh without a Raptilian guide, due to the deadly traps they had laid to protect their swampy home. They became widely heralded as the most accomplished herbalists and potion makers in all of Calencia. They took advantage of the vast array of ingredients at their disposal located within the marsh. The potions and elixirs brewed by the Raptilians proved impossible to replicate, by even the most skilled alchemists.

Once aligned with the rest of Calencia, they provided one of the biggest blows to the Dark Wizard's minions; a sneak attack from the sea. The Raptilians, possessing the ability to breath under water, effortlessly navigated the black waters and began their assault on the Onock from the south.

They came to battle armed with tridents for close range combat and blowguns for long range. They crafted darts used in their blowguns from scorpion stingers and laced with poisonous butterfly frog extract, a very lethal combination.

Their attack proved to be brutal and efficient until Hasbarie unleashed the Hethern upon them. The Hethern were small, fast, winged creatures that attacked in swarms, coincidentally, armed with tridents of their own. Once they swarmed the Raptilians, with piranha like fashion, the well planned attack ended abruptly.

Outnumbered, and in a seemingly hopeless situation, the lizard people of Dead Marsh did not go gently. As the last of their army was falling, the Raptilian Queen, Jezikilah Venumroot unleashed a deathshroom bomb. She created the deathshroom bomb by grinding deathshroom, a rare type of mushroom found only in the Dead Marsh, into a fine powder. The powder was highly toxic to any creature that drew breath into its lungs. Deathshroom bombs had been previously banned in the Dead Marsh because of the inability to safely contain the poisonous cloud to its desired location. If the wind would happen to change direction the toxic cloud could easily fall upon innocents. As her people desperately looked to her for direction, Jezikilah tossed a ceramic jug full of deathshroom powder into the air and exploded it with her trident. All forms of life in the immediate area became forever still, providing the break in Hasbarie's defenses that was so desperately needed.

From this gallant moment on, the Raptilians became heartedly accepted as a part of civilized society. The inhabitants of Calencia welcomed their potions and elixirs with open arms. Their small homeland in Dead Marsh thrived with this new source of income. Trading routes from all over Calencia finally extended into the Dead Marsh.

The Brazurkins of Morgorath resided in the northwestern borders of Calencia. The Brazurkins overtook Morgorath Valley from the Cold Hearts, the snake people who occupied the territory for many years. This was a tremendous feat, as it was believed Morgorath Valley unconquerable. The valley sat between two mountain ranges, the Arplasia Mountains and the Pizenchaffe Mountains, and the only way into the valley came by way of a large wooden gate in the middle of a narrow pass. The gate itself was nearly ten feet thick and over fifty feet high. Over the years, many different groups attempted to drive the Cold Hearts out of the valley with no success.

After their coastal home unexpectedly broke off into the Zanasee Ocean, the Brazurkins decided to lay siege to the valley. They charged the main gate with great numbers. It took the Brazurkins five days to finally destroy the front gates. Once the gate fell, the Cold Hearts met them head on with great resistance. Many Brazurkins and even more Cold Hearts died during the battle. After the end of the skirmish with the Cold Hearts, the Skullsplitter clan seized control as the head of the Brazurkin kingdom. The former head clan perished during the battle with the snake-like men.

The Brazurkins were, for the most part, a peaceful race and well respected throughout the continent. Peaceful as they appeared, they did not retain control of Morgorath due to the elaborate fortifications and naturally defensive topography alone, but due to their hardened army. The Brazurkin army maintained Morgorath's peaceful atmosphere.

The Brazurkin army consisted of the first born male from each family of every clan of Morgorath; there were fifteen clans of Brazurkins. Beginning their training at birth, the young Brazurkins never knew freedom or family. They never had the pleasure of experiencing love or partnership. The only way one could become discharged from the army was through death. The Brazurkin army motto roughly translates, "Only the weak lie down to die. True warriors do not lie down. True warriors fight until the last fragments of life leave the body, and then they fight some more."

The average Brazurkin measured seven feet tall. They were massive beings and due to their rigorous strength training, their muscles looked as if they were about to explode from their light green skin. The Brazurkins had large ivory horns that grew from their head, in no predictable pattern. Every Brazurkin's horns took a different shape and size, but one thing could be said about the size of their horns: the bigger the horns, the meaner the Brazurkin. Their horns would continue to grow until the day of their death, or until they met defeat in combat. If a Brazurkin was bested in battle, his horns would immediately be broken off at the base of his head to forever remind him of his failure. Golden hoop earrings decorated their ears to mark every season of active service in the army. Their most intimidating feature was the two large canine teeth that protruded from their lower jaw and curled up past their top lip. The large canine teeth, along with their horns, gave them the resemblance of a wild beast, rather than that of a peaceful and prosperous race.

Due to their colossal size they became masters of two handed combat. The Brazurkins preferred battle axes, war hammers, great swords, and pole arms, with the elite warriors wielding a large kite shield and a three-balled flail.

The green skinned warriors had only one job in this conflict of good versus evil, a job they were bred for; total annihilation of anything that stood in their path. Their most valuable skill was their ability to topple larger enemies, such as the Cold Hearts and Goops.

The Goops were even more menacing than Cold Hearts. The slimy, bulbous creatures came from the depths underneath the Arplasia Mountains. The Goops became known for their aggressive behavior and would attack on a whim. The Brazurkins had no trouble driving the Goops back underneath the mountain when they decided to occasionally emerge.

The Brazurkin army, mighty as it was, fell short in the final confrontation with Hasbarie's forces, becoming slain like livestock fattened for the table. They killed a few thousand of the Dark Wizard's forces, but they ultimately proved no match for the numerous beasts that Hasbarie commanded, the Gargantuans in particular. The last living Brazurkin, King Orgwak Skullsplitter, was said to have been lying atop a pile of his fallen brothers, broken and bleeding with a dagger clenched tight in his hand, stabbing at any enemy who passed. It has been told that from this position he slayed the last of the Gargantuans, the giants found in the mostly uninhabited lands to the west of the mountains of Arplasia. As the last remaining Gargantuan stomped the life out of him, with a final desperate effort, Orgwak flung his dagger upward, piercing its large juggler vein, bleeding the creature out within minutes.

"True warriors do not lie down. True warriors fight until the last fragments of life leave the body, and then they fight some more."

The largest and most prosperous of the races were the Humans of Galdarath. Galdarath was, and is still to this day, comprised of five wealthy cities: Ravendale, Causperias, Ormavon, Collinwood, Nallenwood, and acres upon acres of forest and farm land in the northeastern border of Calencia. The capital city of Ravendale was home to the royal castle, where the king and queen resided. A large Jalut stone wall surrounded the castle, which was found in the northern border of Ravendale and separated it from the rest of the city. Many taverns, warehouses, merchant shops, and various other establishments occupied the busy dirt roads between the prosperous cities.

The other dominant races of Calencia remained almost always on good terms with the Humans, especially since they boasted the largest army in all of Calencia. With advanced weaponry consisting of longbows, crossbows, catapults, and blast powder, which was only found in the northeast regions of the lands, the Humans commanded respect with brute force and overwhelming numbers. Although they were the youngest race in Calencia, they had the largest population and most abundant supply of sought after supplies. The Humans had an advantageous position in the trading market as their geographic location provided them with many desirable resources, such as petrom, salt, blast powder deposits, exotic marine life, and the ideal soil for crop growing. Even with great military power at their command, the Humans did not force their dominance on the other races. They showed diplomacy and compassion for all, often times settling squabbles between -neighboring kingdoms. The Humans always proved quick to lend a hand when the other races were in need, making it very difficult for the other races to dislike the Humans.

The Humans were the first race to begin the assault on Hasbarie. As front-runners of the Great War, they became unofficially in charge. As preparations for war were being made, most of the other races felt very apprehensive about the position of leadership held by the Humans. Even with such a powerful army, their capabilities to lead a full scale assault against the Dark Wizard was questioned. Once the war began, it quickly became apparent that the most suitable faction was, indeed, in charge. The combination of bravery, battle skill, and the unrelenting will possessed by the Humans were unparalleled. The Human generals proved to be the most courageous warriors on the battlefield, often times rallying the troops of Calencia together when things went awry during the heat of battle. The bravery and die hard will exhibited by the Humans secured their place in the world as the dominant race amongst such a diversified nation, not to mention the fact that the Human King finally defeated Hasbarie. After the Great War, a highly talented sculptor erected a grand monument in honor of the Human Savior, Ryker, who ended Hasbarie's reign of death and destruction.

The deserts of Fogarth were home to the Wizards, who mainly kept to themselves, choosing not become involved with the outside world. Very seldom did the Wizards make their presence known to the world outside of the desert, but when they did it was always of the utmost importance. Most believed them to be only a myth. No other race had ever been permitted to step inside the desert for any reason. The mystical home land of the Wizards was shrouded in secrecy. The only structure visible to the outside world was a monumental golden tower, visible from almost any point in Calencia. Everyone had suppositions regarding what took place inside the confines of the desert, but no one could be certain.

Once, a convoy sent by the Human King set off into the desert bringing good tidings from Galdarath. A group of onlookers watched as the nervous party set forth into the brown sands of Fogarth. After traveling only ten feet, an enormous sand storm engulfed the convoy with tsunami-like rage. From within the brown wall of dust, the terrifying screams coming from the Human convoy ended as abruptly as they began. No one ever heard from them again.

Although considered an extremely rare occasion to encounter a Wizard, it did not prove difficult to recognize one. They wore traditional long, dark colored robes, fastened with a length of rope to secure them to their waist, open toed sandals and fingerless gloves. Although Wizards could perform magic without the aid of a staff, the spells were considerably less powerful, thus creating the need for a magical amplifier. Deadwood was the most suitable material. Every Wizard of Fogarth wielded a staff made from deadwood, a type of wood presumably only found within the confines of Fogarth. The Master Wizards, the highest rank a Wizard could attain, all wore black lenses that covered their eyes. Many believed they wore the lenses as protection from the sands of the desert and to dampen the effects of the bright sun that always seemed to loom over Fogarth. Never to be confirmed, but widely speculated, it was thought that some Wizards, mainly the Lookers, became blind from the evils they had seen during the course of their unusually long life. What actually happened to their eyes remains a mystery, but many believe they went mad and tore them from the socket after years of continually seeing the prophecies.

Great mystery surrounded the Spell Casters, known to be the first race to walk the world. Most stories of the beginning had mention of a Wizard. Many wondered if the Wizards were such a great part of the beginning, why were they so obsolete now? Why had they decided to step out of the sight of man? Was their work done? Whatever the reason as to why they had remained secluded for so many years was not of great concern. All that needed to be known was that they had made a grand return. More Wizards had been in direct communication with the outside world over the past several months, than in the recent millennium. It was, in fact, the Wizards who alerted the Humans of the Dark Wizard Hasbarie and his diabolical plan.

A select lot of Wizards known as Lookers, the second highest rank of Wizards, had one main purpose in life; constantly observing the Sands of Seeing and interpreting the visions that came from them. The Lookers interpreted the prophecy concerning the evils that would soon fall upon Calencia. The Wizards unanimously agreed that something must be done to stop Hasbarie, and although no Wizard ever physically took part in the battle, they offered pertinent advice and instruction to The Saviors. They played one of the most vital roles in the Great War, alerting everyone of Hasbarie and his heinous intentions before he had become too powerful for even the Wizards to stop.

Conclusion of the Great War

The Lord of the Dead finally appeared. Hasbarie loomed ominously atop the hill that the Onock called home. Darkness surrounded him like flies feasting on a decaying carcass. Inside the swarm of blackness stood a tall man wearing obsidian colored trousers and boots. A black cowl covered his slick head, which hid countless, black protruding veins. He wore no shirt, revealing his skeleton-like torso, which also pulsed with black engorged veins. The Dark Wizard's most notable characteristic was the large crystal in his chest, where a normal man's heart would beat. The organ which sustained life was replaced with a pitch black, swirling crystal, which preserved Hasbarie's life and granted him his unworldly power. It was often wondered what type of evil force he had dealt with in order to obtain such a vile object.

He briefly scanned over the collage of mutilated bodies; a thin smile grew on his face.

So many dead, he thought. They will not stay that way for long.

Until this moment Hasbarie had not been present on the battlefield. Only his faithful minions occupied the field in an effort to destroy the courageous warriors who were laying siege to his fortress.

Hasbarie had laid in wait, watching the great battle from within the confines of the Onock, his safe haven. No being, although many tried, gained entry into the Onock. Hundreds of foolish warriors charged the Onock, only to be absorbed inside of it and converted into the Breathless.

To Hasbarie's dismay, the war had not played out as he had envisioned. The Saviors and their armies surprisingly fared much better at disposing of his troops than he had ever dreamed possible. The number of his dark minions that lay dead before him matched that of Calencia's dead. Hasbarie knew that now, only he could secure the victory against Calencia. The time had come for him to directly engage the last surviving Savior, Ryker Graystone.

Ryker, the last living Savior, and his remaining troops navigated their way through the countless bodies, up the hill toward the Onock. With Hasbarie finally in his sights, Ryker immediately called his feeble eight man army into formation.

"Attack!" Ryker roared.

They heroically stormed to the top of the hill with reckless abandon, slaughtering anything that stood in their path.

Ryker, a giant of a man covered in the black blood of the Breathless stormed the hill wielding duel swords. He savagely tore through the remaining forces that lay between himself and Hasbarie.

From the time the conflict had begun, everyone knew Ryker was destined for greatness. His accomplishments on the battlefield were unmistakably the achievements of a great warrior destined to play a huge role in the battle for Calencia. Donning a snow white suit of plate armor, trimmed in gold, Ryker stood out amongst the ranks. His golden cape whipped behind him in the wind. He wielded a long sword in his right hand and a sixteen inch short sword in the other. His legendary weapons were forged from the bones of the last High Dragon, which, fittingly enough, his father slew.

The moment had finally arrived. The two legends, for that is what they were to become, stood motionless. Only mere feet apart, their eyes locked upon one other. Whether good or evil would emerge victorious, the conclusion of the Great War was at hand. The smell of death had scattered through the air by a cool winter's breeze. Neither man flinched. This moment was inevitable and all eyes watched to see the next move in this elaborate game of chess.

"So," Hasbarie said with a loud booming voice as he took a few steps forward, "The great Human general finally arrives. It has been a long and perilous journey, Mortal. You should be proud. You have achieved what no other could. Your destiny awaits you mere feet from where you stand. Are you prepared to embrace that destiny?"

Ryker stood silent.

Again, like the sound of rolling thunder, Hasbarie bellowed, "Here you stand, Mortal, frozen in awe of the greatest Necromancer ever known to the world. I understand your dilemma. You believe you are destined to destroy me, but as you stand in the presence of a soon to be god, the Lord of the Dead, your heart is aching for you to fall to your knees and praise me, hoping I will spare your pathetic soul. Hoping that in this moment I-," Hasbarie's words were cut short. Ryker had heard enough.

"I stand here now in front of a coward who shields himself with dark magic, scared and frightened. You are no god! You are not even courageous enough to meet me on the battlefield. The Lord of the Dead stands petrified, too afraid to descend his perch and face me. You have hidden behind your abominations hoping that I would not defeat them, but here I stand . . . your destiny!" Ryker roared with great authority.

Ryker let out a battle cry loud enough for the heavens to hear and took a single step forward; the last step he would ever take. As Ryker began to advance, Hasbarie plunged his staff forward sending forth a black wave of energy that dropped the last of the warriors, including the great Human general himself. Hasbarie stood motionless for a moment, admiring the lifeless bodies that lay crumpled before him. A smile lengthened across his face. He turned and began to walk away, intending to return to the safety of his dark fortress. As he began his ascent up the hill, he heard an unsettling noise behind him . . . laughter. He could not believe his ears; the laughter was resonating from where Ryker lay motionless only moments ago. Hasbarie swiftly turned to see the Savior propped up on his elbows, with his legs sprawled out in front of him. With a smile on his face, Ryker slowly raised his right hand, palm up, pointing it toward Hasbarie.

Once more, the Dark Wizard spoke. With amusement in his voice he said, "You raise your pathetic hand out to me as if reaching for help. There is no help for you now, Savior. Your soul will soon be consumed, to be forever tortured and tormented."

"I always keep my promises," Ryker managed to choke out.

With an ever widening smile, Ryker aimed his hand at the black swirling orb that sat in the middle of Hasbarie's chest. He spread his fingers wide, as if to show the width of his hand, triggering a mechanism inside his bracer. A single steel bolt shot from beneath his bracer, traveling with pinpoint accuracy, striking the black orb directly in its swirling center. A sea of ebony erupted from Hasbarie's chest, darkening the entire sky, as if an eclipse had just occurred, blotting out the sun. Thunderous booms erupted from the Onock, along with a blinding white light that began to creep through the darkness. Soon, the darkness that blanketed the land faded, becoming replaced by the brightest light anyone had ever witnessed. The Onock began to implode, pulling all traces of darkness into its core. The Hethern, the Breathless, and all of the other evils that Hasbarie had conjured disappeared into the white abyss. When all of the evil had been reclaimed by the Onock, an earth rumbling explosion occurred. The concussive force that followed flattened everything: trees, warriors, outposts, and anything else that stood within a quarter of a leagues radius. Only the warriors on the outskirts of the battle, the mountains, and one young Wizard, who stood atop Mt. Pizenchaffe, survived the blast.

The threat was finally over. The darkness had returned to the bowels from which it came. For now, peace had returned to Calencia. The rebuilding process began shortly after the battle; trading routes reopened, villages rebuilt, and tributes were made to the fallen. Life went on and normalcy was restored. The races began to repopulate, except for the Dainties who many believed extinct.

As the years passed, the Great War's relevancy diminished. The Saviors, who had been immortalized in song and lore, became more of a myth told in ancient folk tales. Only a few in Calencia, namely the Wizards, did not forget the sacrifices made, and the unspeakable evil that once came terribly close to destroying the lands. The Wizards could not forget what had happened. They knew it would happen again, for on the day the battle came to a dramatic end a new prophecy was seen. The prophecy, like the one before it, foretold of a great evil that yearned to claim Calencia once more. This time the destruction was predicted to be on an unimaginable scale; darkness would swallow the entire land, and Calencia's will to survive would be tested like never before. Still, not all hope was lost. Along with the new threat, the certainty came that a new generation of Saviors would rise to once again defend Calencia from the darkness that so desired to consume it.

# Chapter 1

# The Wizard and the Sands

Nearly 500 years had passed since the Great War, and the prophecy revealed to the Wizard's at the end of the war had begun to fulfill itself. Since the end of the battle that took place east of their desert home, the Wizards of Fogarth had been vigilantly watching the timeline of events that would inevitably lead to the new struggle for Calencia. Day and night a select lot of Wizards, known as the Lookers, study the Sands of Seeing, focused on the events that would lead up to the return of Hasbarie.

The Sands of Seeing resided in a golden basin inside the Wizards' golden tower and were highly coveted by the Wizards. The Sands were but a small portion of the ground that originally blanketed the world, untainted by the evils that soon followed creation. How the Sands functioned was unknown, but they had the ability to reveal glimpses into the future, and often referred to significant events of the present and the past. They were a powerful tool and heavily guarded by the Wizards. If the impossible task of traversing the dangerous desert were ever accomplished, various traps and enchantments were set to protect them, not to mention that one would have to make it past the Wizards themselves. If the Sands were to ever fall into the wrong hands, much ruination could come from the abuse of such a great power.

The prophecy that was seen at the end of the Great War foretold of the Dark Wizard Hasbarie's return and the imminent destruction of Calencia. Shortly after his return, he was to become much more powerful than ever before. The prophecy also showed the reuniting of the Saviors, along with Locmire, the young Wizard who watched the fall of Hasbarie from the top of Mt. Pizenchaffe. Locmire was also the Looker who initially interpreted this particular prophecy. Since that time he had achieved the rank of Master Wizard, and the job of monitoring the prophecies had fallen upon the shoulders of lesser Wizards. Locmire always took great personal interest into this particular glimpse of the future, due in no small part, to the direct involvement required on his behalf to fulfill the prophecy. He had patiently waited for the calling to fulfill his destiny. It seemed that the day had finally came for Locmire to put in motion a chain of events that would offer Calencia its only hope.

Two Wizards stood next to the Sands of Seeing. A vision had just been revealed to the Looker that required Locmire's immediate attention.

The feeble old Looker turned to the Wizard and said, "The Lord of the Dead . . . he has reappeared. The Onock has materialized to the west of the Arplasia Mountains, in the former home of the Gargantuans. It seems that he has been back for some time now."

"How is it that we are just now learning of his return?" Locmire inquired.

"I am not sure. I assure you that I have been diligent in my duties. Could he have somehow kept himself hidden from us?" asked the old Looker.

"Anything is possible with a Wizard such as Hasbarie. His power is undoubtedly returning," replied Locmire.

"What shall our course of action be?" inquired the Looker.

"I had hoped that I would not live to see this day again. I had wished for death before his return. His last reign still haunts my very soul," Locmire paused momentarily. "I suppose I shall gather my things."

Locmire slowly turned away and started making his way out of the tower.

"Where are you going, Locmire?" questioned the Looker with concern in his voice.

"I am going to fulfill my part of the prophecy. I must go and unite the Saviors and prepare them for the upcoming battle," Locmire declared.

"Who shall you take with you on your journey? Should I go and . . . and . . . prepare as well?" asked the reluctant Looker.

"No. I shall undertake this journey alone."

"But Locmire," the Looker pleaded, "The world outside of these sands is very dangerous. You must not venture eastward alone. You cannot . . . you are the last of your kind . . . you must protect the-," but Locmire cut him off.

"I shall travel alone for only a short time. I have seen the visions, as have you. I will be aided in my travels not only by the Saviors, but by a lot equally as important. Though I do not know where I will find the three strangers that the prophecy foretold of, I do know they are there, for it was seen in the Sands."

The Looker started once more, "But Locmire, how do you know you will be able to find the Saviors? You know not who they are!"

"I know more than you can imagine, Looker, for I was the one who first interpreted the prophecy. I have seen many things that neither you, nor others of your kind have. Fate will guide me on my journey. Fate will usher me in the right direction. You need not worry of things over which you have no control. Stay here and be diligent in your tasks."

"What shall you have me do, Master?" asked the Looker.

"Continue to monitor Hasbarie, if possible. I will return to Fogarth when I can. I am sure upon my return you will have much information for me," said the Master Wizard.

Locmire, now the last Master Wizard of Fogarth, swung his robe around to catch up with the rest of his body as he quickly turned on his heel and hurried down the long spiral staircase. Locmire, who had once stood atop Mt. Pizenchaffe during the final moments of Hasbarie's reign, departed from the tower and returned to his quarters.

Locmire wore the traditional dark colored robes of Fogarth, which covered him from head to toe. His cowl covered most of his face, only exposing his nose and mouth. A pair of leather bound goggles covered his eyes. Having aged rather well for a Wizard over 700 years, time had finally started to catch up with him. Wrinkles were slightly beginning to show on his unmarked face.

He packed a small satchel full of goods, items he deemed necessary for his journey, which was to be a long and unpleasant one. Many leagues and hardships lay before him. He knew this was going to be a journey of unimaginable importance.

With haste, Locmire left the boundaries of the desert by the dark of the moon. Riding a black horse with only a satchel swinging from the saddle and a long deadwood staff slung across his back, he set out for Galdarath. The prophecy had been set in motion and the future of Calencia weighed heavily upon his shoulders. Ravendale, the capital city of Galdarath, would be his first destination. Here, Locmire hoped to enlist the first of the new Saviors.

In years past, Wizards were not allowed, or concerned enough, to interfere with the affairs of the outside world, except under special circumstances. There had not been many instances where Wizards had ever intervened with mortal affairs. Locmire could count his journeys outside of Fogarth on two hands, and this journey would lead him farther than he had ever been before.

Once, he visited the village of Kiliam, a small settlement just outside of Fogarth, to investigate complaints of a strange disturbance. He had no idea why this particular situation required the presence of a Wizard, but upon arriving in Kiliam he quickly understood the severity of the situation. A Lich, a powerful undead creature, had taken over the village. The confrontation led to Locmire fleeing for his life. His next trips outside of Fogarth were to gather information on this particular Lich, hoping to change the outcome of their next encounter. His most recent expedition outside the confines of the desert had taken place 500 years ago when he observed the dramatic conclusion of the Great War.

This time, however, was unlike any other. This time the Lord of the Dead would be unimaginably powerful. Hasbarie was no longer a mortal Wizard, but rather a reincarnated version of himself with unworldly power at his disposal. If he had any hopes of saving Calencia, Locmire would have to come face to face with Hasbarie and endure many hardships along the way.

# Chapter 2

# The Village

Locmire, being quite unfamiliar with life outside of Fogarth, took in all the wonders the world had to offer as he set forth on his journey. The world outside of the desert was a beautiful hodgepodge of landscapes. Lush green forests, mountains, fields, grass lands, and winding rivers were scattered about the country side. Many small villages were constructed far away from the rule of the kingdoms.

During his journey he came across a diversified mix of races living in harmony with one another. To him, the coming together of the races was the most beautiful part of this new world. Prior to the Great War, the races, for the most part, did not intermingle unless it was to trade goods or declare war. Now, it was very common to see a small village made up of Engeniums, Humans, Brazurkins, and Raptilians living peacefully with one another. It swelled his heart to see Forest Engeniums and High Engeniums living peacefully amongst one another.

He made brief detours into a few of these villages to trade for food and lodging for him and his steed. Everyone warmly welcomed him, and to his surprise most of the goods in the villages, such as food and water, were complimentary. It seemed that once the villagers had become far removed from the major kingdoms, they became exponentially more generous. They all worked to help one another. One particular village by the name of Holston offered some of the best food he had ever tasted. Their specialty dish was poached yarkle with snoot eggs. This marked the first time he ever had the pleasure of experiencing Raptilian cuisine. Locmire had eaten yarkle before, but with the special spices the Raptilians used, it was as if he was enjoying the bird for the first time.

What amazed Locmire most was the fact that no one questioned him as to why a Wizard had ventured so far outside of Fogarth. The majority of the outside world was very curious about Wizards, but not once did anyone ask him about his presence or, if in fact, he was a Wizard. Although this puzzled him, it did not trouble him. He preferred not to answer personal questions.

Wildlife thrived in the Free Lands. No matter how many times it happened, Locmire always became startled when an apuhroo would cross the road in front of him. The Wizard considered the apuhroo one of the most unusual creatures that he had ever laid eyes upon. Only reaching a foot in height, the creature's rear legs accounted for eight inches of its total height. They had long furry tails, tiny arms, and a head no bigger than a walnut. He had seen ten different apuhroos, each of a different color. Some were spotted brown and black, some were solid colored, and some were calico. Yearning for a closer look at them, Locmire cursed their speed. How can a creature so small be so fast?

His trip led him many leagues southeast from the desert. This route took him longer than if he had stayed on the main road leading east, but it was as if something called him to venture into this direction. As Locmire crossed into the once flourishing area now known as the Dead Lands, all signs of life had vanished. He used extreme caution while traversing the Dead Lands. They had become a very dangerous place even for a Wizard.

This was the first area in which the Dark Wizard focused his strategic attacks. The numerous villages and towns that once populated the countryside lay in ruins. Before the arrival of Hasbarie, this region was one of the most populated areas of the Free Lands, a place where life blossomed. It was now a vivid picture of lifeless desolation. The land was dark, dusty, and scarce of life. Not even a single plant sprouted from the ground. The harsh and unforgiving terrain slowed Locmire's progress considerably. The magic unleashed here was certainly the darkest of sorts. In these days, the stories told of the Dead Lands were horrific in nature, with the heart of these tales revolving around ghosts, demons, bandits, and other foul creatures long hidden from the world.

Several moons had come and gone since Locmire left his desert home, and he did not know what led him to this barren wasteland. For the past two days he traveled the Dead Lands day and night, only resting when absolutely necessary. He felt uneasy dwelling too long in such a place, despite being a powerful Wizard. When he did stop, it was for a short respite and to see his horse watered. Clean water was a luxury not readily found in the Dead Lands. Any water that he consumed had been produced from the end of his staff. This was a cruel, unwelcoming land, and Locmire began to wonder if it was indeed fate that led him here or a subconscious judgment. If the latter had taken him this way, he feared he had been misled. He trudged on with the unforgiving cold chilling his body to its very core. The Wizard was unsure of how many days he had been traveling, but he had high hopes of reaching his destination soon.

Locmire stopped momentarily to give his horse a short rest. He took his empty bladder and touched the end of his staff to it, instantly refilling it. Then he poured some of the fresh water into the cup of his hand and let his horse drink. When his horse's thirst had become quenched, Locmire turned up the bladder and finished off the rest of the water. The pure water instantly quenched his thirst and healed the dry, cracked skin of his lips. He took in a deep breath and let it out. His warm breath collided with the cold air creating what looked like a small cloud of smoke. Looking to the sky, Locmire saw that the moon had begun to rise, the sun was drowning out in the distance, and much to his surprise, illuminated by the light of the orange horizon, a structure came into view.

Is that a? . . . No, it can't be. I am almost sure of it, though. Why is this place left standing? Is it? Yes. Yes it is. It is . . . it is a village, Locmire thought. He mounted his horse and began to push the steed harder, and harder, and harder. He could not be certain if what he saw was real or a mirage. Either way, he longed for food and a peaceful night of sleep. The harder he rode, the clearer it became. There was, in fact, a village not too far ahead. This was the first sign of life that he had seen in the Dead Lands, and it seemed to have appeared right in front of him. His thoughts ran rampant. Are there people living here? I wonder if they will be friendly? Oh, how I long for undisturbed slumber. Locmire bounded forward with an intent that he had not had for the past few days. With excitement flooding through his body, he felt as if he could not reach the village fast enough. He felt like he had been lost for weeks, and the emergence of this village offered him a glimmer of hope.

As he approached the village he noticed a beautiful white horse tied to the hitching post, and by the looks of it, it had not been there long. Locmire dismounted his steed and tied it next to the white stallion. He ran his fingers through the horse's silky mane, startling the creature at first, but after a moment it became calm to his touch.

The gate to the village stood open, but no guards kept watch atop the towers that surrounded the village or its head high stone wall. Suddenly, Locmire became chilled to his very soul. An eerie feeling told him that only evil dwelt in this place. His initial instincts told him to turn and flee in the opposite direction. He thought to himself, No need to welcome unwanted attention. But, what of the rider that belonged to the white steed? Is he inside the village? Yes, I am sure of it, but if the rider is alive or dead, I am not certain. After a few minutes of self-debate, Locmire decided that he could not leave this unknown person. If there was any chance that this mysterious rider was alive, his conscious would not allow him to leave without first investigating the matter.

No lights were lit in the village, not even a single torch, even though darkness had fully engulfed the land now. It appeared that on this cold night not even one single dwelling had a fire lit. This was a fairly accurate indication that this was a ghost town. Locmire held out his staff and produced a light as bright as ten torches blazing from its end. As soon as the light peeled away the darkness, a shadowy figure let out a cry of pain and ran between two of the huts to his right. He cried out to this mysterious figure but received no answer. Another figure disappeared to his left and footsteps echoed out from behind him. A rush of adrenaline pulsed within his body as he realized what was happening; he was being surrounded.

Locmire stretched his staff out in front of him as far as he could, touched the ground with its end, and drew a large circle in the dirt around him. He lowered his staff and touched the ground once more. A dim red light filled the crevice in the ground that he had made. Locmire took a defensive stance and braced himself for battle. Suddenly, several dark figures leaped out at him from within the darkness. A blinding red wall of flame arose from the ground around him. The dark creatures screamed in pain as magical fire incinerated them, leaving only their ashen remains floating in the air. Within in mere seconds, more figures started advancing upon his position.

Locmire had never laid eyes upon such beings. They were completely black, shaped like a man, but with no eyes or mouths. Long, black thick claws replaced their fingers. Their movements were swift and erratic. A low gurgling sound came from within them. These creatures were moving in on him, and he doubted that they were the welcoming party.

Locmire pointed his staff at the creatures and began to unleash fireballs upon them, in quick succession. Each time one of the fiery red balls made contact with, or around, one of the creatures, ash floated slowly through the air and settled on the ground. The Master Wizard fought for as long as he could, obliterating wave after wave of the Shadow Men, but the numbers had soon become too great, and the magic that ran through his veins had been weakened from lack of rest. He knew he must retreat, but the exit of the village was now blocked by a wall of black figures.

As the Shadow Men were about to fall upon him, he drew his staff through the dark night. A large arch of fire followed the end of his staff, turning more of the creatures into ash. He dashed toward the only opening in sight. He scrambled between two large huts, blasting fireballs behind him as opportunity presented itself to stop the advancing army. He ran into what looked like a large village square with the face of a small mountain cutting off his escape. It was a dead end. He was trapped. Apprehensively, he turned to see the Shadow Men flooding in behind him.

For a man of his age, Locmire fought with the quickness and agility of a man in his early years of adulthood, slaying a multitude of the Shadow Men. He took his staff in his hands and shrank the deadwood down by half. He held the shortened version of the staff in one hand. A long fiery whip grew from its end. Locmire began to wave the whip through the air, making big circles and slashes through the dark night. The burning whip created a spectacular light show, incinerating shadow after shadow as it tore through and around them. The number of creatures started to dwindle, but there were still too many, and Locmire's spells became weaker with every use. He had become drained from a lack of sleep and nourishment. Certain that his end was near, Locmire looked for any means of escape. To his dismay, a swift retreat seemed unlikely. He would not give up though; he would fight to his bitter end. He had to keep fighting, as the fate of Calencia lie solely upon his shoulders. As the insurmountable odds began to crush his spirits, he heard a voice with a strange tongue unlike any other he had ever heard.

"Ahoy lad! Looks as if ye are in need of a hand!"

The creatures stopped immediately and turned toward the disturbance. Locmire could not see this mysterious person. It was too dark, and the wall of Shadow Men, only feet away from him, obstructed his view. This stranger had gained their attention, and the Shadow Men were now slowly advancing toward his voice and away from Locmire.

As the army of the night advanced upon the unknown man, their ranks began to scatter. Through this new formation Locmire could see several men circling the square, each carrying a large barrel on their shoulder. What are these simple minded fools doing? They are going to get themselves killed, Locmire thought. He did not dare move, as he would hate for his foolish actions to lead to the death of this many innocent people. Locmire had no other choice but to wait and see how this would play out.

"Spread em out boys, all round em. Pull da corks out as ye roll em round!" yelled the man standing proudly with both hands on his hips.

Locmire noticed that the other men were now rolling the barrels in a circle, surrounding him and the Shadow Men. The Wizard had no inclination as to what plan these strangers had laid out, but before he could ponder on it anymore the Shadow Men attacked. In an instant, all of the men, except for the one barking out orders, were drowned in the darkness. The screams that followed, which rang out in the night like the large purple cats that inhabited the forests of Lasticall, were not muffled. The sound of the dying men sent an icicle through his very soul.

The remaining Shadow Men turned their attention toward the leader of the group. He did not seem at all shaken, as he stayed with his feet planted in the spot that he had been for the last minute or so.

As they crept ever closer, the man finally cried out, "Ahoy mate! Do me a favor an point dat far thing-er-ma-jig at one of dem thar barrels or we both be fixin to be keel hauled."

Locmire had no idea what this man had just said to him, but out of sheer intuition he pointed his staff at the barrel closest to him and cast out a single eruption of flame.

BOOM!

The barrel exploded, producing a bright flash of light that illuminated the night sky. The eruption of light was followed by a trail of fire which led to the next barrel, which also exploded, setting off a chain reaction of bright explosions.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

The Shadow Men started turning to ash all around him as the fire snaked its way from barrel to barrel, making a large circular prison around them and illuminating the dark night. As the last barrel exploded, so did the last of the Shadow Men. It was finally over. Both men stood still for a moment. Locmire was in disbelief that this mysterious man had just appeared and saved his life, even at the cost of his own friends. As the stranger approached Locmire, he slowly came into focus by the fire light of the barrels.

He was a tall, slender, but muscular man. His ratty black hair grazed his shoulders as he strode over to Locmire with an arrogant strut. The man wore black pants and shin high boots, with two large silver cutlasses hanging from both hips. He was dirty, filthy actually. Scars covered his face and torso. His right eye was white as ocean sand, obviously no longer serving any other purpose than taking up space. By the looks of him, he had seen many battles.

"Thank you, stranger," Locmire said.

"Ye should thank me. Lost da rest of me men right den. Ha!" the man said, seeming amused as he looked at his surroundings. "Stranded in dis god forsaken land, without me crew, or me ship. What's a Cap'n to do?"

"My name is Locmire of Fogarth, and I offer you whatever aid I can, stranger."

"Aye, me may jus take ye up on dat offer. Names Cap'n Red Maher of the Sagging Hag," he paused and scratched his greasy head. "Well, guess me ain't no Cap'n no more since me got no crew nor ship."

"You are not from here. I can tell by your speech. You speak in a tongue that I have never heard before. From where do you hail, Red of the Sagging Hag?" Locmire asked.

"Me hails from da sea. No sea near deez parts. Me and me mates got blindsided by a great storm out on da high sea. We found areselves up on da shore not too far from whur we stand. Me ole faithful ship cracked beyon repair. Twernt long till dem thar dark fellas showed up an a fierce fight followed. Lost lots a good crew. Our steel had no effect on em, udder dan slowin em down for a bit. Den a blaze started growin on me ship. As da far gotten brightah, dem black men just started blowin up. Dats when we realized dat light was da only ting to hurt em, it was. We packed are tings, cloodin doze dar barrels of powder, and set inland. An here we be. Sharin a tale by da light of da far."

It was very hard for Locmire to understand what Captain Red was saying to him. His speech seemed very broken, and he used words that he did not quite understand, but he was able to comprehend Red's story for the most part. Wherever Red had come from did not matter to Locmire. Red was a capable man, and Locmire did not believe this meeting was by chance. Is this the man that the prophecy foretold that would aid me in my travels? In his heart he felt that this was one of the three of whom the prophecy spoke, but how was he to convince this man to aid him on his journey?

"You say you hail from the high seas, but what land did you once call your home?" asked Locmire.

"Englan, da greatest country in da world," said Red as he scratched his head. "Even doe dey won't let me come back thar."

"Englan? There is no such place as Englan in Calencia," Locmire replied.

"Aye, correct ye may be. Englan's not from dis place. It be anudder land far away from dis dead place."

"What do you mean another land? There are no other lands, except for the land you stand upon now."

"That be what ye thanks. Thar be many udder lands dan deez. Me sailed to most of em. Juss never saw any place like dis bafore."

Locmire found this very difficult to fathom, for he knew of only one mass of land. Many sailors from Calencia had set out in search of other lands, but after years out on the sea, they came back empty handed. How could it be that this man knew of lands that Locmire, a 700-year-old Wizard, did not? It was not of importance. Could it have been a great storm that brought Red to this world? That has to be it. Red is from another world. Fate has sent him here. But what is so special about this man? He did save my life, Locmire thought to himself. Either way, he did not want to sit and debate this with Red. He would have plenty of opportunity to discuss such things on their journey, that is, if Red would agree to accompany him.

"Red, may I tell you a tale?" Locmire asked in a soft, intriguing voice.

"Ahhh, me welcomes it. Shed some light on deez eer vents, hopefully."

Red pulled out a bottle of what he called grog from his knapsack. He popped the cork, took a gluttonous swig, and passed the bottle to Locmire. The Master Wizard nodded and took a swig himself. He found the drink a bit too strong for his liking, but he smiled and thanked Red for his generosity. Red plopped down on the ground and listened with the utmost attention, clinging to every word the Wizard said.

Locmire finished his story about the Great War that took place 500 years ago, the Saviors, the new prophecy, and the reason behind his journey. After the tale, both men were silent for a few moments. It was Red who spoke first.

"So. . . yer tellin me dis Hazburarie fellar. . . he's gonna destroy dis whole place. An ye an some mates dat ye never laid eyes pon are plannin on bringin him down again. An ye be thankin dat me be one of da lads to help ye on yer journey. Dat bout right?"

"For the most part. I do not know why fate put you in my path, but I do believe you are one of the chosen ones that will aid us in defeating the Dark Wizard," Locmire said as he took another swig of grog. "So, will you join me on my quest?"

"Well, let's look at me options. I be's stranded wiff no ship, no crew, no clue of whur me be's. Only udder tings me be's seein are deez black abominations which killed me whole crew. Ye spin a big yarn, but me don't thank ye crazy," Red stood up. "Cap'n Red Maher be at yur service."

Locmire looked at Red with a very serious expression on his face and said, "We will be embarking on a dangerous quest to save this world. A world of which you know not, but I have no doubt that if Hasbarie conquers this world, he will seek to do the same with the others. Our quest is of the utmost importance, a quest for which I am prepared to die. I do not ask the same loyalty from you. I only ask that you be honest and truthful."

"Me gives ye me word. A pirate's word is offen all he gots. A pirate's word is worf more dan gold. Me will set sail with ye. Sides, me got nuttin better to be doin wit me time."

They shared another round of grog before deciding to take leave from the village. Both men mounted their horses, Locmire taking to his black steed, and Red became familiar with the white one. It still puzzled Locmire as to the whereabouts of the white horse's owner.

Heading east into the night, the Wizard was delighted that Red would be accompanying him on his journey. The last few days in the Dead Lands had been trying, to say the least, and a companion would make the rest of the trek less difficult. Locmire was intrigued by the first member of his party. He was very interested in Red and the world from which he came. They still had many leagues to travel until they arrived at their next destination, Galdarath, and the Wizard planned on taking advantage of this somewhat idle time. Locmire had many questions he wanted to ask Red. He wanted to know of Red's world, his customs, the races that inhabited Englan, but none more important than what a pirate was.

# Chapter 3

# The Mage

Two moons had passed since Locmire first encountered the Pirate, Red Maher, in the Dead Lands. Red turned out to be a great travel companion, and Locmire was amazed by his stories that helped to pass the time considerably faster. Red told of his world and his adventures, as did Locmire. The Pirate was also very educated, though Locmire once thought the opposite. His navigation skills surpassed Locmire's when it came to plotting routes through the Dead Lands, even though the strange Human had never set foot in this world until a few nights earlier. The longer they traveled together, the more certain Locmire became that Red was fated to cross the Wizard's path, although his ultimate purpose was still unknown.

Locmire knew that the edge of the Dead Lands drew near; it was considerably warmer, the sun shone much brighter, and in the distance he could hear the faint chirps of several birds. Knowing that he would soon emerge from this depressing land brought him a sense of relief. Unfortunately, the inevitability of returning to the Dead Lands after recruiting all of the Saviors, still sat heavy upon his shoulders.

"Ahoy, Old One! Me be seein some green thar in da distance!" exclaimed Red.

"Ah, yes," Locmire replied as he looked to the direction Red pointed. "We are coming close to our first destination. The green that you see is the forests of Lasticall. A little further north, we will make contact with the first of the Saviors in Galdarath."

"If dat be da forest of da En-ginnies, den why in da muddy rudders are we not goin thar first?"

"I have already told you. We must have the support of the Human King if any of the other races are to follow us . . . . 'twas the way it happened the first time and the way it must happen now."

"Well, me bets dem dar En-ginnies would join if ye started peltin em wit yer far stick," Red chuckled.

"I hardly believe the Engeniums would cooperate with us if I began to hurl fireballs at them," Locmire noted with a slight grin.

"Well, we needs ta be gettin somewhur soon cause me gots no clothes, and it be a darn bit cold out here," Red said as he rubbed the goose flesh from his bare arms.

Before Locmire could respond he spotted something in the distance. He stopped his horse suddenly and extended his arm for Red to do the same.

"Up ahead. . . . a group of travelers. They are pulling a portable holding cage behind their carriage. We must tread carefully. Most of these sorts are head hunters. They travel throughout the lands collecting wanted persons for a reward of gold . . . very irritable and very short tempered," he leaned forward to get a better look. "By the looks of it, there seems to be about-,"

"Fifteen of em. . . all armed. Got a girl in dem cage," Red said as he held a long, round object up to his eye. Locmire was staring at the object with a look of great curiosity.

"It be a telerscope. It fur seein great distance."

"I see," said Locmire with a smile on his face. Red always seemed to impress him with some sort of gadget from his unknown world. The compass, though, still impressed him the most.

"Fur a man wit a big hood coverin his eyes all da time, an blacked out goggles, ye sure do got some keen eyes thar."

"I see just fine, my friend. My hood keeps the sun out of my eyes," the Master Wizard said, smiling.

As the duo approached the head hunters, Red hopped off of his horse and marched toward them before Locmire could direct him otherwise. Sitting on his black steed, the Old One, as Red often referred to him, watched as the captain engaged in what seemed to be a rather heated conversation with the group. After a few minutes, Red came strutting back toward Locmire with a large grin on his grizzled face.

"Well ye be's right. Dat thar group be very unpleasant. Dey be refusin to let us pass . . . said dey got some business wit some udder lads and need not be distracted. Da whole crew be laughin at me, sayin me be's talkin like a bafoon. What be yer plan?" scuffed Red.

"Well," Locmire said as he surveyed the area, "that is the direction of our plotted path. If we must go around them, we will be in the Dead Lands for at least another day. That would be a big setback."

Red marched off once more saying, "Aye aye."

This time, the group of head hunters could tell that the upcoming discussion was not going to be friendly. The hapless face that approached them moments ago had transformed. The Pirate's face carried the look of a determined man; a man who had his mind set on getting what he wanted. The men formed a half circle around Red, with their hulking leader in the center. The leader of the band of bounty hunters stood a head taller than Red. The man outweighed Red by at least fifty pounds, but it was not fat that accounted for the significant weight difference. He was light skinned, bald-headed, and missing a few teeth from the front of his yellow smile. He wore ragged trousers and a dirty tunic. The hilt of an iron great sword jutted up past his shoulders for everyone to see.

"I done told you, buffoon, turn yourself around if you do not want trouble. We have business to take care of, and you are not part of it," said the man as he spat on the ground at Red's feet.

Red stood still with his hands on the hilts of his cutlasses.

Once again, the large man spoke, "This is your last warning! You and your friend-" the man took notice of the way Red's hands were twisting around the hafts of his cutlasses and knew that the talking was over. "Forget it! Kill them! And be quick-," but his words were silenced.

With amazing speed, Red drew both of his weapons. His left hand shot forward and the finely made steel cutlass plunged into the yellow-toothed man's throat, leaving him dead in seconds. Red then made a wide sweeping motion with his right hand, disemboweling three more of the head hunters to his right. The remainder of the group advanced on him at once. Red leapt backwards and cut down two more men after their strikes fell short. With a great flash, the battle came to an abrupt end. Locmire had sent a large blazing ball of fire directly into the center of the remaining thugs, scorching them to nothingness.

Red whipped around, "Why did ye do dat fur? Me had em right whur me wanted em."

"It looked to me as if numbers were against you, my friend. I just thought I would even the odds," Locmire said.

Suddenly, Red stuck his hand behind his back and pulled out a funny looking wooden and brass object. He pointed it in Locmire's direction.

BANG!

An ear splitting boom and bright flash erupted from the end of the object. Locmire hunkered down, as if to dodge whatever it was Red had just sent his way. Locmire aimed his staff at Red, ready to unleash a barrage of flames at him, but then he heard the sound of something falling right behind him. He turned to see another of the head hunters, probably a lookout, lying at his feet with a dagger tightly clenched in his hand.

"Arrr, Old One, ye not be da only one ta be shootin things from his stick," chuckled Red.

"Bring that here!" Locmire demanded. "What kind of magic do you possess?"

Red strolled over to Locmire, handing him the curved wooden object.

"Ain't no magic. Dis here be's a pistol. Shoots a lead ball out da end, killin almost anything in its path. If ye aim it good at least."

"Magnificent," said Locmire.

"Would either of you boastful heroes mind coming over here and setting me free?" asked a female voice from behind them.

"Ahoy thar, me lady!" said Red as he and Locmire walked over to the portable prison.

"Sorry about the events that have taken place before you. I really hate-," Locmire started, but she cut him off.

"Less talking and more action. You must hurry! The authorities of Causperias will be here shortly. You must set me free!" exclaimed the woman.

"Why are you wanted?" asked Locmire.

"Why does it matter? If they arrive, they will surely kill me. I am innocent of the crimes they accuse me of. I was at the wrong place at the wrong time," she yanked on the bars frantically, with a look of desperation in her eyes. "Please, mister! You must set me free!"

Locmire was not sure why, but he had a strong feeling that this meeting was not a coincidence. Is she one of the others the prophecy spoke of? Locmire wondered.

The Wizard raised his staff and pointed it at the iron lock on the cage. With a quick wave of his staff, the lock fell off. The woman jumped out of the cage and started to run, but it was too late. A loud rumbling, which sounded like thunder, closed in on them. Once again, they were surrounded. This time by a large fleet of horses with armor clad riders.

"Halt, woman!" demanded one of the riders.

She tried to turn and run in the other direction but was quickly headed off by another rider. She was trapped.

"By the order of the authority of Causperias, this woman is to return with us where she is to be put to death by hanging. Step aside, citizens. No need for this to turn ugly," the rider bellowed.

Red once again drew his cutlasses, a move that caused the entire army to take up arms.

"Put your steel away, Red. There is no need for further bloodshed," Locmire said as he climbed down from his horse. "If you do not mind me asking, what is this woman's crime?"

"That is none of your business. Now step aside!" demanded the rider once more.

At that moment, the woman, who looked like a fox caught in a trap, drew a staff from the back of the carriage that was connected to her prison. She made a forward thrust with the narrow length of wood and muttered something under her breath. A large red wave erupted from the end of her staff and flew through the air toward the armed men. In the blink of an eye, Locmire waved his own staff and produced a large blue wall that sheltered the riders from the crimson wave of magic that hurtled toward them. The two spells collided giving birth to a great flash of light and a concussive force that sent the female spell caster flying through the air. The riders quickly turned in the other direction, galloping away frantically, not looking back. They rode hard and fast, fearing for their lives.

"Well, we be's makin friends right and lef," said Red as he sheathed his steel and spat on the ground.

"I do not think those are the friends we want to have. They are military from Causperias, the greatest city in Galdarath, next to the capital city of Ravendale. This surely will not make our travels into the Human city any easier," said Locmire.

"Well, if dis hur wench haddn went all crazy and pult one of dem Wizard'n spells, we mighta been able to talked are way out of dis mess," Red said as he looked over at the unconscious Mage. "Sides, it wudda been lot easier to let hur stay in dat thar cage."

"I could not leave her. Although I am not certain, I do believe she is the next person of whom the prophecy foretold. I have the same feelings about her as I did about you when we first met."

"Well, whadda ya gawn do now? She be layin der all knocked out from her own Wizard'n spell."

"She is no Wizard," said Locmire, with what sounded like an offended tone. "True Wizards do not need to speak incantations when casting spells, nor do we need a staff to use magic. A staff just helps to strengthen the spell. She is a mage. She cannot perform magic without speaking incantations. A mage learns magic; a Wizard is born with it. Wizards are race in their own right, mages are not. This would be why the riders were seeking to put her to death. To most of the civilized world, her sorts are considered witches. We must take her with us. Gather her staff and help me get her on my horse. She rides with us."

Red hoisted the girl up in the air where she lie slumped over the front of the horse with Locmire riding behind her, keeping her in place as they departed. Red saddled up, and they set off toward Galdarath with the sun at their backs.

# Chapter 4

# By the Fire

The campfire roared under a clear, starry night. The night was cool, but could not compare to the nights Locmire had spent in the Dead Lands. Red was much more comfortable since he, doing what pirates do best, looted some clothes from one of the dead head hunters that he had killed earlier.

Locmire and Red sat next to each other sharing a roasted jopie that Red had slain with his pistol. Jopies, according to Red, looked a lot like a rabbit; a game animal in his world. Such an amazing invention, thought Locmire, regarding Red's pistol. Weapons like these could surely turn the tide of battle if acquired in large quantities.

The night lingered on, as did the stories the Wizard and Pirate shared while enjoying their tender dinner. Red told of the world from which he came; a world that Locmire did not know existed, while Locmire informed Red of the happenings and customs of the world in which he was now living. Of all the tales and creatures Red described, the Wizard found mermaids particularly fascinating.

"Nah, a mermaid is a savage. Nuttin civilized bout em. Dey lure sailors out of der ship and drag em down to da deps of da ocean," Red said, answering Locmire's question concerning the friendliness of mermaids.

"Fascinating," said Locmire, with a look of amazement on his face. "What of the males?"

"Ain't never saw no man mermaid. Don't reckon thar be's any of em. Or maybe dey juss not seen much cause thar not be's many wench sailors on da sea. Me reckons thar could be a few, but me never heard of em," replied Red.

"What other stories can you share of your world?" Locmire asked.

"She stirs," Red said, as he nodded in the Mage's direction. "Be on yur guard. Dat one's blood has been replaced wit far. She probably gonna come up fightin."

"She will be fine. I am sure she will be grateful that we took her with us," said Locmire.

The Mage slowly made her way up to a seated position, taking in her new surroundings with fear in her eyes. She did take notice of the fact that iron bars did not surround her, and for this she was grateful. She could not help but wonder about her current situation. As she rubbed the sleep from her eyes she thought, Why am I with these two men? What happened? I can't remember. Her thoughts were running wild. Then, the voice of the Old One cut through the silence.

"How do you feel? Are you hungry?" inquired Locmire.

"I hurt all over. Feels like a horse ran me over," she said as she arched her back to stretch. Suddenly, with a panicked voice she asked, "What happened? Why am I here? Who are the two of you?"

"My name is Locmire. I am a Wizard from Fogarth."

"Fogarth!" exclaimed the woman.

"Yes, I am from Fogarth. You have heard of it?" he asked.

"Yes, I have heard of it. Everyone has heard of Fogarth, but if you are a Wizard of Fogarth, what are you doing out here on the eastern border?" she asked. "I thought Wizards never left the desert."

"We do not usually leave the confines of the desert, this is true. I am the last Master Wizard of Fogarth, and I am on a quest of dire importance." He pointed at Red. "This is my companion, Cap'n Red Maher of the Sagging Hag."

Red winked one eye, his good eye, at the mention of his name.

"After the altercation with the ones who pursued you, we decided to bring you with us. You were in no shape to be left alone," Locmire said as he poked the fire with a long stick.

"What do you mean in no shape to be left alone? What happened back there? The last thing I remember was being surrounded by the riders and -," she did not finish her statement.

She was trying to remember what had happened. Had I not cast a spell aimed at the guards from Causperias? Yes I did. I am sure of it. What happened after that? I cannot remember.

Locmire finished her statement, "And you cast a spell, undoubtedly a nasty one, considering the aftermath of your spell colliding with the protective spell that I cast over them. If you would have succeeded with your attack, it would have caused you undue hardship. I could not allow that."

The Mage stood up. She was a Human of average height for a female. A worn, brown pair of trousers, short boots, and a white button up tunic that was torn and tied just below her breasts covered her small frame. Her golden blonde hair came to life by the light of the fire. The high cheek bones of her face, along with her dimples, made her a sight to behold. Her skin had been kissed by the sun. She was breathtakingly beautiful. Her ocean blue eyes held a hint of mystery, making her all the more stunning.

"They were going to kill me! I had no choice. I was not going to . . . I didn't want . . . ," frustration overcame her face but was quickly replaced by relief. "Thank you. Thank you for helping me. You saved my life. I would be dead right now if the two of you had not come along," said the girl as she sat back down with her hands on her forehead and elbows on her knees.

"What be yur name gal, and where do ye hang yur head" asked Red.

"Excuse me?" asked the Mage with great confusion in her voice.

Locmire chimed in, "He asked to know your name and from where you hail."

"Oh. Sorry," she said shaking her head. "My name is River. River Tolcutt. I come from a small fishing village in the Free Lands, near Lake Ormavon."

"Nice to make your acquaintance, River. May I ask what brings you to these parts in such dangerous times?" inquired the Master Wizard.

"No particular reason," she answered as she took a portion of jopie meat from Red and began to eat. "I got tired of living in the village that I grew up in. The only life awaiting me there was that of the wife of a fisherman. I set out on my own, well me and my friend Tolfar set out. We wanted to see the world. It wasn't long after we left the village when we joined up with a group of travelers who took us in as family. Not long after that, they revealed to us that they were in fact mages."

"Ya mean fake Wizards. Aren't dat right?" Red asked.

"What? Fake Wizards? I-," she suddenly had a very confused look on her face. "Anyway, we traveled for several years visiting all of the Free Lands and unrestricted areas of the kingdoms. They taught me the art of magic. They became my family. Seven years had come and gone and we never had any problems with anyone, until we came close to Galdarath," she paused as she took another large bite of the tender game.

"River, you must surely have known that mages are frowned upon in the kingdoms. Why travel so close to Galdarath?" Locmire asked.

River thought that this mysterious Wizard with the hood covering his eyes asked a lot of questions, but he had saved her life, so she at least owed him the pleasure of sharing her story and letting him know why he had risked his life for hers.

"We were making our way to the forests of Lasticall when we ran into trouble. Tolfar and I were down by the river with a few others. We had just began to wash our dirty linens when several men came bounding out of the forest. They became very violent, throwing our wash in the river, tossing several of the women in our group to the ground, and slapping the men around. It was Tolfar who acted first. He picked up his staff and cast a spell, his only spell. One of the large men went flying across the river and tumbled into the forest. Someone cried out, 'mage!' and an axe sank into Tolfar's head. He fell to his knees, plunged into the water, and floated down the river. That was the last time I ever saw him," River paused as she wiped a tear out of the corner of her eye.

Locmire made his way over to River and sat beside her on the soft ground. He pulled a torn cloth from his satchel and gave it to her to wipe the tears that flowed down her cheek.

"Thank you," she said.

"So dey started killin yur crew. What happen afta dat?" Red blurted out.

Locmire quickly snapped his head toward Red, giving the captain a stern look of disapproval. Realizing his words were poorly chosen, Red lowered his head and prodded the smoldering fire, deciding to add another log since it was sure to be a cold night.

"What happened next, River?" asked Locmire with genuine concern in his voice.

"The rest of us ran back to our camp. Strangers were there as well. The rest of my friends were down on their knees with their hands bound behind their backs. We were quickly rounded up. No one even tried to fight off the attackers. No one except me." She paused for a moment taking a swig of water.

"I killed several of the men, but their numbers were too great. The next thing I remember was waking up in a town square with the sun beating down on me. My head was exploding with pain. As my eyes began to focus, I noticed I was not alone. I saw the rest of my group tied up beside me. We had ropes tied around our necks, and a crowd was gathered to watch us meet our death. As they began the trial, if you could even call it that, I noticed a familiar face in the crowd. As the man accused us of witchcraft, the crowd began screaming 'hang them' and 'get it over with.' I knew there was no chance for us to be pardoned," she paused again trying to hold back tears. "Rhel was first. The floor fell out from under him. He twitched for a moment as the noose squeezed the life from him. At that moment, the person in the crowd, Cabus, drew his staff and started blasting the ropes that held us captive. As each of us was freed, panic began to set in. The mob began to scatter, and I made myself lost in the chaos. I escaped Galdarath and have been on the run ever since, until I was captured, and the two of you showed up. And once again, here I am on the run." She fell backwards, sprawling flat on her back, covering her face with her hands.

"Sounds like ye be one lucky gal. Glad ta have ya wit us, River Tolcutt. Ye'll be safe wit us. Me an da Old One will look afta ya," Red declared as he picked his teeth clean with a jopie bone.

"May I now tell you a story?" the Old One asked.

She rose from her back and assumed a squatting position once more.

"Yes. I would love to know why a Wizard is all the way on the easternmost part of the continent. Go ahead and spin your tale," River said as she lay back down.

After Locmire told River the same story he had told Red, all was silent for a moment. It seemed that the Wizard's story had this effect on people.

"So, what do you say, River? Will you travel with us? I am sure you are one of whom the prophecy revealed to me. You are a capable Mage. You are just like Red. . . well almost like Red," he said as they both looked over to see Red fast asleep with his hand down the front of his trousers.

River glanced over at Red, and a smile grew on her face.

"You are in this world all alone at the moment, with great capabilities at your disposal. I am a firm believer that one does not acquire special abilities without a divine purpose for them. This is your purpose. Nothing is holding you back, River," Locmire paused as he removed his cowl and stared into her eyes with his dark lenses. "I know, without a shadow of a doubt, you are one of the three prophesized, one of the three destined to help save the world as we know it. Will you embrace your destiny?" Locmire asked as River stood up, pacing around the campfire.

"You say the first Savior is located in Galdarath. How do you expect me to show my face there?" she asked.

"They will not expect you to return there. Once the first Savior is recruited, you will no longer need to hide your face. All will be well."

"What man has the power to grant me a pardon of my so called crimes?" she asked.

"Thaddeus Graystone," Locmire replied.

"The King?" she asked with a hint of amazement in her voice.

"Yes. The King of Galdarath," the Wizard replied.

"You actually expect to just walk into Galdarath and have an audience with the King?"

"Something like that. Tomorrow, he is to be wed. We will be attending the wedding," Locmire replied.

"Ha!" River laughed loudly. "And I suppose you have an invitation?"

"Actually, I do," Locmire said as he produced the invitation from his robe. "The Kings of Galdarath have always extended an invitation to the Wizards of Fogarth for such joyous occasion. I suppose this will be the first time one of us has ever attended."

"Amazing," River said with a look of admiration. "You have this all figured out."

"Do you think I would set out blindly without any preparations in place?" he asked.

River glared at Locmire as if she was trying to read his thoughts. Her gaze sat heavy upon him. She did not move. She did not appear to even be breathing.

"If it is my destiny, then what choice do I have? I am not ready to end my travels just yet, and I do not wish to return home. They will find me sooner or later, for I am a wanted woman. Too many people are afraid of me now. Every single head hunter or capable man will be looking to cash in on the bounty on my head. I have nothing to lose. If you think there is even the slightest chance that I can have my so-called crimes cleared, then I have no other choice. Take a shot at freedom, or become an outcast always on the run, always watching my back. That is no life." She gave him a long thoughtful look. "So, yes, I will join you and your friend on your great quest to save the world."

"Thank you, River. You have made the right decision. Now get some rest. We leave at dawn," Locmire said as he strolled over next to the fire, lay down, and immediately fell asleep.

River stayed up most of the night thinking about her life and where her travels had taken her. This would be a new chapter in her book. From this moment on, her past would be behind her. Locmire and Red would be able to protect her from any future attempts of capture. A feeling of guilt suddenly weighed heavy upon her heart. The Wizard seemed so sincere and honest with her. She knew he had been completely truthful with her. She, on the other hand, had not been completely honest. Why should I feel guilty? He does not need to know everything about me. Besides, I am starting over fresh. I will be helping save the world. That surely should make up for my past transgressions. Wouldn't it? That does not matter. I will not let the evil that has consumed me so many times before rear its ugly face again. I will not let my secret consume me ever again. A new person is inside of me striving to get out. . . a good person. I just have to take control of my life and control of the dark secret that haunts me. I can control it! This she hoped, not just for her sake, but for the sake of her new found companions.

# Chapter 5

# I Do

The tall, thick grass blew like the waves of the ocean in the field where Emilia lay, gazing at the clouds. The bluest of skies hung overhead and white puffy clouds were scattered throughout. The song of a nearby yarkle set the mood perfectly.

Emilia had dressed accordingly for such a warm, sunny day. She wore a thin, snow white dress, and a crimson red rose accented her chocolate brown hair. A basket of fresh picked fruit and aged wine sit waiting in the brown wicker basket beside her. Emilia was the most beautiful woman in the whole kingdom of Galdarath, and tomorrow she would become the Queen of Galdarath, as she was scheduled to wed the King, Thaddeus Graystone.

King Thaddeus Graystone had the reputation of being a kind man. He was the most loved and respected leader the kingdom had ever known. This just one of the many reasons Emilia fell in love with him, that, and his ravishing good looks.

Thaddeus Graystone ruled with a kindness unlike any king before him. The people of Galdarath practically worshiped him. They would not hesitate to lay down their own lives for their king in an instant. This kind of loyalty could only belong to a man who had earned the respect of his people, and Thaddeus had done just that. He had lifted several of the crippling taxes that had deprived his people for many years. He showed equality between the common folk and nobles. Often, he would frequent the homes of the commoners in his kingdom to show them that he genuinely cared for them. He loved to hear of the problems and joys that the common folk shared with him as they sat down and shared meals together. Thaddeus did his best to help the citizens of Galdarath. These unheard of acts gained him the moniker of the Commoner's King, just one of his many nicknames.

Under his short reign, trade flowed into Galdarath like never before due to his natural ability to negotiate with the other kingdoms. He showed fairness by allowing most criminals a just trial, and he tried his best to objectively hear every case brought to his court. He was the king for whom the people had longed.

As kind as he was, his compassionate heart could never be mistaken for a weakness. He was very strong, and everyone in Calencia was well aware of it. When the King became angry, no one dared to stand in his way. A proven warrior of many battles, Thaddeus had a reputation that struck fear in the hearts of his enemies. Friends and foes alike often referred to him as Thaddeus the Invincible, due to the rumor that he had never sustained a single injury in his countless engagements; this was no rumor. During the war with the Black Suns, a group of bandits who accepted members of any race, it was estimated he slew at least two hundred of the outlaws in open fielded combat. He did not receive as little as a scratch. In his crusade to annihilate the Shadows, an organized assassin's guild, it was said that the heads of the guild did not even have the chance to draw their weapons before he struck them down. All of this, he accomplished by the young age of twenty.

The sight of the young King alone made most sapient men reconsider their course. Standing six feet and five inches tall, he towered over most. He had a very wide frame with muscles that busted from every inch of his body; a true specimen of how a man should look. And if his size was not intimidating enough, his legendary suit of armor, which had been passed down through the generations of Graystones, set him apart on the battlefield. His white and gold armor once belonged to the immortalized Ryker Graystone. Whenever he set foot on the battlefield donning his armor, the havoc seemed to halt for a few moments as everyone stood in awe of the indomitable King. He carried three fabled weapons with him onto the field of battle; two long swords that hung from his hips and a large double edged battle axe, his favorite, across his back. The element that set these weapons apart was the material from which that they were crafted. They were dragon bone and said to have been forged from the bones of the last High Dragon. Dragon bone weapons were extremely hard, extremely sharp, extremely rare, and Thaddeus could swing them with ferocious, deadly accuracy.

A man such as Thaddeus was desired by all the women in the kingdom, if not only for his ravishing good looks and radiant personality, but for the riches he could afford them. Those women could fantasize all they wanted, for it did not matter, he was Emilia's. She had won his heart, and tomorrow they would become husband and wife, King and Queen.

As Emilia lay day dreaming in the field, a voice called out from behind her, "A woman of your beauty should not be out alone in the countryside. Bad things could happen to one such as you with no one to protect her," said a low, deep voice.

Her heart raced. She rolled over onto her stomach to meet the eyes that accompanied the voice.

"Sir, I think I am well protected. I have no need to worry," said Emilia.

"I see no guards here. What makes you think you are so well protected?" asked the man.

"Well, it just so happens that I am the bride to be of the most fearsome, handsome man in all of Calencia, the King of Galdarath."

"Such a false sense of security. The relation to the King offers you no protection. Now, if you were accompanied by the King himself, that would be a different story," said the man.

Emilia jumped up from the grass and ran. She jumped onto him and wrapped her arms around his neck and legs around his waist. He embraced her in his bulky arms. Their eyes met for several seconds, and she pressed her pink lips against his. It was the type of kiss that only true love can produce. She wove her fingers into his long, chestnut brown hair, never wanting to let go. He bent to one knee and placed her down on the silk blanket she had laid out. He hovered over top of her as they shared an intimate, endless stare into each other's eyes.

"Where have you been? I have been waiting here for what seems to be hours?" the beautiful Emilia asked.

"The work of a king is never done, my Queen. Recently there was some trouble in Causperias with a rogue mage. I had to speak to Sebastian regarding the situation and of course, set the bounty on the girls head," said Thaddeus.

"And how is our dear friend, Sebastian? Is he well?" Emilia asked.

"Sebastian is well. He has his hands full at the moment, and he regretfully informs me that he will not be able to attend the wedding tomorrow. He sends his regards," Thaddeus said as he fell onto his back, gazing at large cloud which took the shape of a griffin.

"No!" Emilia exclaimed. "He has to come to the wedding. If not Sebastian, who will be your first man?"

"I am sure someone will oblige me," he replied. "I wonder if I should go back to Causperias and assist Sebastian?"

"Let us not talk of such matters today. We are to be wed tomorrow. You should not have to worry about these things. Sebastian will be fine. I am sure he will at least make the reception," Emilia said as she ran her fingers through Thaddeus's hair.

Thaddeus rolled over onto his stomach and stroked Emilia's fragile cheek with his hand. He became very serious and asked, "Why do you love me?"

With a smile, she said, "Why does the sound of a harp make me smile? Some things in life naturally happen without any explanation. You are my harp, Thaddeus."

Thaddeus smiled and rolled onto his back.

"Why do you love me? You could have your pick from any woman in the entire kingdom, yet you chose me. Why?" she asked.

After a moment of debate, Thaddeus replied, "Because I felt sorry for you."

Emilia playfully smacked him on his hard chest and said, "Well, if that is the only reason."

Thaddeus sat back up and stared deep into her eyes and said, "I love you. I love you more than anything in my life. I love you more than my kingdom, my riches, and more than all of the glory I have attained on the field of battle. I would give up everything that I possess for you, even my life."

"Will you love me till the day that I die?" she asked.

"No," he simply stated.

Emilia looked at him queerly.

"I will love you till the day that I die," Thaddeus declared as their lips met.

Emilia gave Thaddeus a ripe plum from the basket of fruit; he took it and ate. They consumed several more pieces of the delicious fruit and finished off the bottle of wine. They spent the rest of the day floating in the sea of tall grass speaking of their future together and sharing their most intimate desires. They spoke of their unborn children, even picking out their names. Although they did not make love, since that was to be saved for the night of their wedding, they did become as intimate as a man and woman could become, without crossing any lines of decency. Thaddeus, as well as Emilia, were both virgins, and they were saving their bodies for the night of their wedding.

They lay entangled in one another's embrace until the orange sun began to fall out of sight.

The next day, their wedding day, came in the blink of an eye. It was noon, and the sun hovered directly over the castle. Hundreds gathered in the castle courtyard, while thousands in the surrounding cities waited to celebrate the union of their King and soon to be Queen.

Thaddeus stood tall with his chest sticking out and a smile from ear to ear on the landing atop the steps that led to the castle. He wore his ancestral white gold suit of armor. Upon his head sat a crown of gold and precious jewels. His long hair was braided and pulled back behind his head. For most of the people in his court this marked the first time they had ever seen their King cleanly shaven since he was a boy.

Thaddeus's entire body seemed to pulse with electricity. Sweat ran from his brow and he felt his morning meal coming up in this throat.

The trumpets blared and everyone stood up at once, turning to the entrance to the courtyard as Emilia began to make her way toward the steps.

One look at his beautiful bride eased Thaddeus's nervousness.

The trumpets ceased and the harps began to sing their beautiful melody as Emilia made her way up the steps to the landing where her King awaited.

It was like a fairy tale. Emilia could not believe this day had finally arrived. It was the happiest day of her life. The harps, the instruments and her King, caused her smile to widen, and the butterflies in her stomach to flutter once more.

Emilia had on a long white dress with a train that trailed fifteen feet behind her. It was carried by five small girls, Emilia's sisters. She arrived at the top of the steps and turned to face the man of her dreams. He could not see the entirety of her face due to the veil that only exposed her plump, healthy, pink lips. His smile grew even larger. As the joiner, the name for a person who oversees a marriage, made his way over to the soon to be husband and wife, the crowd fell silent and took their seats.

Fisk, the local produce dealer, took his seat at the back of the courtyard. He looked over to his left and noticed three peculiar individuals, two of whom he had never laid eyes upon. One, the female, he was sure he had seen her before, but where? A thought fell into his head. It couldn't be! Was she one of the mages that had escaped from the hanging post a few days ago? Nah, it couldn't be. He slowly turned his attention back to the ceremony.

"Welcome Lords, Ladies, and beloved citizens of Galdarath! We are gathered here today for a most special occasion, the joining of our beloved King Thaddeus, and his beautiful bride, Emilia, our future Queen," the joiner said as he began the ceremony.

The crowd erupted in cheers.

"Let us begin," he said as he bowed his head. The rest of the crowd did the same, and the ceremony began with a short, but purposeful, blessing. He raised his head and spoke again reciting the traditional words of matrimonial union. Thaddeus and Emilia took turns reciting their vows, both with the most genuine look of love in their eyes. Thaddeus placed the large diamond ring on Emilia's finger; she slipped a sleek gold band on his. The moment was here. Thaddeus took the crown from the pillar which stood next to him. He placed the gold, jeweled crown on his Queen's head, and he slowly advanced in for the kiss that was to bind their eternal commitment to one another. Their lips were about to lock when the blissful moment came to an abrupt halt as screams erupted from the crowd. The guests in the courtyard began to stampede toward the exit, running and screaming at the top of their lungs. Suddenly, Thaddeus saw the origin of the commotion. He hoisted his large axe up from the floor next to where he stood.

He turned to Emilia, put his large hands on her shoulders, and calmly said, "You must flee from this place. Do not ask questions, but make haste. Go inside the castle and bar the doors."

"I love you," Emilia said as her panic stricken eyes frantically surveyed the disturbance.

He paused for a moment with a look of concern and said, "I love you, too."

He bolted down the steps toward the center of the courtyard. Emilia stood frozen in horror as the events below unfolded before her eyes. A large hole had emerged from the ground below, spewing out a black mist that crept through the courtyard. The stench of rotten flesh quickly overtook the fragrance of roses. Creatures started to pour out of the black abyss, one after another. Only one person in attendance, an old man dressed in a black robe and cowl that covered most of his face, knew what the hellish creatures were. The uninvited guests were unmistakably the Breathless, Hasbarie's most numerous and faithful abominations.

Within a matter of seconds, hundreds of Breathless had filled the courtyard, slaughtering the guests who were unfortunate enough to be at the back of the fleeing human wall. They attacked with a heartlessness that no living being could mimic. Their long claws and sharp teeth tore and ripped the flesh from their victims. Heartlessly and without discrimination, they massacred women, men, and children alike. Two small girls, with baskets of flowers in their hands, lay at the bottom of the steps in a pool of warm blood. Loud cries of unearthly pain overpowered the screams of the guests.

Thaddeus plowed into the middle of the Breathless horde, making a large powerful swipe with his axe, cutting down six of the creatures with one swing. At once, the entire horde turned on him. Thaddeus quickly realized that they had found the object they were looking for . . . him. Thaddeus's guards joined in the fight, but they were no match for the overwhelming numbers they faced. They had fallen as quickly as they jumped into battle to aid their King.

The mighty warrior swung his axe at speeds so high it became a blur to onlookers, each time cutting the creatures down as a crew of woodsmen would do to a young forest of half-grown pines. Once, he was almost over ran by the Breathless, but he turned his axe sideways using it as a battling ram, effortlessly clearing himself a lane through the middle of the assemblage of corpses. He killed at least twenty more of the dark abominations before he finally became surrounded. His fate was certain, but he would not go gently. He would fight for as long as he could, giving the love of his life time to escape to safety.

As the horde began to advance, a red flash of light erupted from somewhere behind him. A ball of fire tore through the Breathless, creating an opening through the wall of corpses. Thaddeus looked through the opening and saw three figures standing in front of the courtyard exit. It happened again, but this time the flash came from the female of the group. A large blue wave fell from the end of her staff that crashed down upon another group of the attackers. The spell crushed the Breathless, sending black blood spewing. The first robed figure flung another ball of fire, exploding another dozen of the horde. The third man, with two swords drawn, came rushing toward Thaddeus, slicing through all of the creatures in his path. He moved with a speed and technique that was unknown to Thaddeus. The King was impressed with the way this long haired warrior fought. Even more impressive was the unknown weapon that he pulled from his britches. Whatever it was, it was effective. As he pointed the short piece of wood at his attackers, a loud boom and small flash of light bloomed from the end of the device, collapsing his targets to the ground. He did not know who these three strangers were, but he was glad they had come to his aid. The other two robed figures plunged forward to the center of the fight, right beside Thaddeus and the nimble warrior. Spells and sharp edges tore through the remaining creatures, until at last, only the four warriors remained standing.

The courtyard was like a river of red and black blood. Pieces of flesh and coagulated blood were pasted to Thaddeus's armor. He was breathing heavily, as he had just been in the fight of his life, still unharmed.

"Friends, I know not who you are, but I owe you my life," he took a deep breath. "The King of Galdarath is forever in your debt."

"I thank you for you kind gesture, but no debt is owed. This threat is why we are here. Let me introduce ourselves," he removed the hood from his face. "My name is Locmire of Fogarth. These are my companions, Cap'n Red Maher and River Tolcutt. I suppose you have many questions about-" Locmire noticed that all of the color had left from Thaddeus's face and he stopped speaking.

Thaddeus looked up toward the entrance to the castle. His knees gave out from under him. He dropped his axe and began to drag himself forward, eventually pulling himself back to his feet and sprinting toward the steps. Locmire turned toward the steps of the castle and saw what it was that troubled Thaddeus. A few steps from the top of the landing lay a lifeless figure wearing what once was a white wedding gown, now dyed red from blood.

Thaddeus scrambled toward Emilia. He plunged to his knees and scooped her up in his arms in one swift motion. He supported her upper back with one arm, her limp neck with the other. Her face was masked with dried blood. A large gaping wound on the side of her neck was pumping out the last drops of her warm life force. He was silent for a moment. Tears fell down his cheek

"Emilia . . . Emilia . . . No! By the gods, no! Emilia . . . wake up. Wake up! You can't be. You mustn't be!" Thaddeus cried as he pulled her limp body closer to his, burying her face in his chest.

His voice became louder, "Emilia! Wake up! Wake up! Someone help us! Help us!" he screamed.

Thaddeus was now crying uncontrollably. The only woman he had ever loved, the only family he had known since the death of his parents, lay still in his arms.

His voice lowered to a whisper, "Emilia, it is I, Thaddeus. Your husband! Please wake up. You mustn't be! Please wake up, My Queen!"

Thaddeus held her close to his chest and rocked her back and forth for a moment. The tears, as quickly as they came, suddenly stopped flowing from his eyes. He stood up with Emilia dangling in his arms. He carried her limp body to the top of the steps and laid her on the landing, where only minutes ago they were sharing the most important event of their lives together. He picked up the crown and placed it on her head. He tore the only unsoiled piece of fabric from her once white dress and gently wiped the dried blood, which had been moistened by his tears, from her face. Carefully, he emptied a large vase containing the reddest roses anyone had ever seen, placed the symbols of love upon her chest, and slowly descended the stairs.

# Chapter 6

# Thaddeus's Rage

"Be ready to defend yourselves, but do not retaliate. He has just lost everything," said Locmire.

"Defend areselves from what?" Red asked as he frantically looked around for another incoming wave of attackers.

River raised her hand, pointed to the King, and said, "From him."

Thaddeus walked with purpose down the steps and toward the three strangers. As he approached the group he cracked his neck from side to side. Locmire began to speak, but as soon as Thaddeus came within striking distance he wrapped his large hand around the throat of the Wizard and effortlessly slammed him into a nearby statue.

"You will tell me your reason for being here!" Thaddeus bellowed as spittle flew from his mouth. "Why is it that these demons show up here today? Conveniently enough the same day a Wizard and mage show up to my wedding uninvited!"

"Look er matey. It be kinda hard for da Old One ta tell ye anyting wit yer big hand caressin him throat like dat," said Red.

It now made sense. Thaddeus understood why the strangers were here. The army of Causperias said that the wanted mage had escaped with a Wizard, and a stranger with a foreign tongue. Indeed they had. It was these three who had summoned the creatures here. It was these three who had been responsible for the death of his most loyal servants, and his beloved Emilia.

Thaddeus, with all of his might, flung Locmire through the air, sending him tumbling across the bloody courtyard. He turned on Red, but before the Pirate could put distance between himself and the enraged King, two large hands wrapped around his throat, hoisted him up into the air, and drove him down onto the marble walkway that ran through the middle of the courtyard. A loud thud came from Red's body as the air fled from his lungs. Thaddeus set his gaze upon River. She began to back away from him, but the quicker she backed away, the quicker Thaddeus advanced on her. She had her back against a wall and in front of her stood the large King, full of fury and hate. He picked up his bloody axe from the ground. River fell to her knees as Thaddeus lifted his dragon bone axe high into the air, ready to plunge it deep into her petite body. Just as he brought his axe down he seemed to have become frozen. A hazy aura surrounded him. He could not move.

"That is enough, My King. While I understand your plight, I cannot allow you to shed innocent blood. I do believe you are mistaken concerning the events that have taken place here today and our most ill-timed arrival," Locmire said as he made his way over to River and Thaddeus.

Red began to stir on the ground. He made his way to his hands and knees and looked around. His head was spinning, but air had filled his lungs once more. Red's eyes fell upon Locmire and Thaddeus. The Pirate was furious over the inhospitality that King Graystone had shown him, but he did not say a word, especially since his last innocent statement seemed to act as a well-aimed rock at a hornets' nest.

River jumped up and hid behind Locmire. She could not seem to gather her composure. Electricity ran through every fiber of her body. Next to the narrow escape from the hanging post, this was the closest she had ever come to death.

Locmire stood in front of the magically bound King. Speaking softly he said, "I know these circumstances do not favor us. I can assure you we did not bring forth these creatures. We simply came to seek your aid in our quest, your quest, a quest for which you are destined."

Thaddeus shouted, "Free me from this magic now! If you do not, I promise you I will get free on my own. Then, not quickly, but slowly, I will kill the lot of you!"

"Please, Thaddeus, listen to reason. My name is Locmire, from Fogarth."

"Fogarth! I now spit on Fogarth," the King said as he spat at Locmire's feet. He was silent for a moment as hate boiled inside of him. "You travel with outlaws. You travel with a mage wanted by the Kingdom of Galdarath for crimes against nature and humanity. I doubted for a moment that you were in fact a Wizard, until this display of cowardly magic. Free me so we can end this!" Thaddeus exclaimed, as more spittle flew from his mouth with each hate filled word. His red puffy eyes, along with the saliva that hung from his lips, made him resemble a hound stricken with the madness.

"Once again you are mistaken. River is not a threat. You have seen this as she fell before you. If we came here to see your demise then answer me this. Why did we help you? Even still, why did we not attack you when you began to release your anger upon us?" Locmire asked.

Silence came over Thaddeus once more as he carefully pondered these statements. This is all true. They had more than one opportunity to attack me. Even when I caused them harm they did not retaliate. When the Wizard did finally act, it was out of protection to his female companion, and even then it was not an offensive spell that was cast, only a binding spell. Any person capable of casting such a spell must truly be a powerful wielder of magic. Maybe, just maybe, this Wizard speaks the truth.

"If not to see me dead, what other purpose do you have here today?" Thaddeus asked.

At that moment the orb that bound Thaddeus disappeared. Locmire had released him. River quivered behind Locmire, anticipating another attack by the powerful man. Red stood up and placed his right hand on his pistol. Thaddeus eyed him carefully.

The Wizard said, "I hope I am not making a mistake by releasing you, Thaddeus Graystone."

"You speak to me as if you know who I am. Who are you, Wizard, and what is your purpose here?"

"Oh, but I do know you, Thaddeus. I saw your face over 500 years ago in a prophecy that is being fulfilled at this very moment. Tell me, what do you know of the Saviors and the Dark Wizard, Hasbarie?"

"You mean the children's tale about the Lord of the Dead?" Thaddeus asked as he wiped the spittle from his mouth. "But you know as well as I do that it was no children's tale. You know as well as I do that it was a member from my bloodline, Ryker, who destroyed the Necromancer and his forces at the Onock during the Great War."

"Yes, that is correct. I see no need to educate you on the events of that day, for I am sure you have been told and retold the tale from your father and his father before him. I even see that you wear the fabled armor of Ryker. Your family is one of the few who holds tight to this important part of history," said Locmire.

Thaddeus nodded, "We are proud of our lineage. What does any of this have to do with today?"

Locmire continued, "I will tell you the importance of you and your bloodline and of the events that are taking place at this very moment. The Onock and the Dark Wizard have returned," said Locmire.

Thaddeus interrupted, "It cannot be. He was destroyed along with the Onock many years ago. He was a Wizard, not a god. He does not have the power to return from the grave."

"The Dark Wizard has powers beyond your imagination. While he did not conquer death alone, nonetheless he has been resurrected." Locmire paused.

He took a brief look into the eyes of the groom who had just lost the one thing he loved most, his bride. The eyes that met him were cold and emotionless. How could this man turn off his rage and emotions this easily? Moments ago he lost his beloved and was on the brink of killing every last one of us. Now he stands listening and engaged in conversation. This man, King Thaddeus Graystone, is surely the one to lead the Saviors into victory.

He continued, "500 years ago when Ryker defeated Hasbarie and his dark horde, I stood atop Mt. Pizenchaffe watching the events unfold. Hours before the final battle, while in deep meditation within the Sands of Seeing, another prophecy was revealed to me. The threat that looms at our door today is much more perilous than it was so many years ago. Otherwise I would need not become involved."

"If, he has in fact returned, why has he not made his presence known?" Thaddeus asked.

"He has made his presence known. The creatures we just battled were Hasbarie's doing. He calls them the Breathless. They posed a huge threat during the last war. They are his most numerous and loyal servants, for without him they would not know life," Locmire said as he started to pace back and forth.

Red whispered to River, "Blow me down. How old ye reckon Locmire be's?

"Shhhhh," she whispered.

He began again, "The prophecy told of a time when Hasbarie would return. His return was made possible by the reuniting of the four shards of the dark crystal that sat in his chest, the one that Ryker destroyed. The crystal fragments were found by four individuals who had become obsessed with Hasbarie and his return from the grave. Their obsession with his return finally paid off when they found the four parts of the crystal. With the crystal fragments brought together, the Onock has reemerged in the unsettled area west of the Arplasia Mountains. The Onock itself has allowed Hasbarie to return from the black abyss that he was absorbed into when his crystal was destroyed. The crystal and the Onock, along with Hasbarie's life force, are directly connected. The four worshipers that brought him back have now become Dark Priests, high ranking members of Hasbarie's court, and he has bestowed them with great power. The prophecy showed that they must be dealt with before we can pursue the Dark Wizard himself, but there is much work to be done before that time comes. Hasbarie has not yet returned to full power. Without an intact crystal to harness his magic, he is a mere shell of his former self, but still poses a dangerous threat. The Onock itself bequeaths him with power that no other Wizard in Calencia holds. If we do not stop him before he regains his powers, I fear that that task will become impossible."

Thaddeus listened intently. His train of thought was focused solely on what the old Wizard was telling him. He absorbed every single word like a sponge.

"The prophecy showed me what must be done. Hasbarie could not have been able to return until the time was right; a time when the Saviors last remaining bloodline was down to its final strand, as so it is now. Every single descendent of the Saviors has perished, all but one from each bloodline, as is such with you. No living relatives from your father's side and no children. You are part of the last remaining bloodline of the Graystones. The same goes for the rest of the new lot that I seek to enlist. I have come to you first, Thaddeus. At the Calling of the Greats it was Ryker who united the Saviors. Will you follow in your ancestor's footsteps?"

Locmire walked over to Thaddeus; the King stood up to meet him.

"My direct involvement with this matter was revealed to me, as was part of my purpose. It was also revealed that there would be three more heroes destined to help in the conflict, join our cause. Two of them stand before you. There is more to be told of the prophecy, but this is all that needs to be divulged now. The rest will be told when all of the Saviors are united," concluded Locmire.

Thaddeus stood for a moment staring at the Wizard. It made him very uncomfortable that he could not see Locmire's eyes through the black goggles. Thaddeus could tell much about a person's eyes. This Wizard is mad, Thaddeus thought. He can't be mad; no one could make up such a story. The King's heart and mind were at conflict with one another. He knew a decision must be made. Which would he follow; his heart or his mind? Ultimately, he sided with the part of him that had never once led him astray, his heart.

"Well, it does not make me feel very confident about this whole situation knowing there are parts that you are unwilling to share," said Thaddeus skeptically.

"I cannot reveal the rest of the prophecy at this moment. All I can do is ask you to put your trust in me and join us in the fight. We have much work to do, and time is short. What will your decision be, Thaddeus Graystone?" Locmire said as he extended his hand. "Will you take up arms beside us?"

Thaddeus did not hesitate; his hand met the hand of Locmire with a firm grip.

"I will join you, Wizard. I will destroy Hasbarie just as my bloodline before me. I will avenge the death of my beloved Emilia." He released Locmire's hand. "I will return to you shortly. I must gather my things."

As he began to march off toward his castle, he stopped and said, "I apologize for the ill temper I showed earlier."

"All is forgiven," said Locmire.

"Aye, no hard feelins. Glad ye be on are side," added Red.

"All is well," said River hesitantly.

Thaddeus nodded as he entered his empty castle.

Inside the castle Thaddeus began to gather his belongings. He took two swords, his helmet, sharpening stones, a purse of gold, a change of clothing, a small carry bag, and a mechanical device that he tucked away under his right bracer. As he began to exit his chamber something on the wall stopped him in his tracks. It was a painting of Emilia. He instantly became lost in its memory. The painting had been done before the feast in which he announced his intent to marry Emilia. As she sat motionless on the stone bench, it was then that Thaddeus realized he had been blessed with the most beautiful and kind woman in the entire kingdom. Looking at the painting he thought, what did I ever do to become so lucky? He sat down in an arm chair and before he realized it, he was swept away into the memory of their first meeting.

Thaddeus had just returned to Galdarath after a successful campaign against the Shadows. It had been a rather long campaign, and he was very happy that he was back in his home land. Upon his return, a feast was held for the entire kingdom of Galdarath. Everyone from each of the cities received an invitation to the celebration. Large surpluses of gold were spent procuring livestock, produce, and drink. The local farmers, butchers, and brewers made a fortune on this one night event.

The feast itself was held in a large clearing just outside of Ravendale, but the festivities carried on throughout the entire kingdom. A long wooden table had been set at the back of the clearing where Thaddeus, Sebastian Buxton, and a few royal guards sat at the table. A never ending supply of food and drink came their way. No expense was spared on the entertainment either. Bards were strewed throughout the clearing, singing of King Thaddeus's victory. Royal fools were running through the crowds performing their most popular routines. These were just a few of the entertainers present at the feast. Acrobats, swordsmen, trick shots, and dancers had also come out for this most joyous event.

The night lingered on and Thaddeus had begun to mingle with Galdarath's citizens. The people loved him for this. He was one of the only kings in the history of Galdarath who would come speak with the common folk. On this night, it seemed that he was introduced to every single citizen of Galdarath.

"Thaddeus, I do believe it is far past time for you to find yourself a queen," Sebastian said as they walked through the crowd. "You have not taken any time to enjoy the benefits of being King since you took the throne."

Thaddeus smiled and said, "Sebastian, I have more important things to worry about right now. Besides, I am a young man. I have my entire life ahead of me to find a queen."

"What important things do you have to worry about?" Sebastian asked.

"For starters, I have to make sure I do not run my kingdom into the ground," he replied.

"All the more reason to find yourself a queen." Sebastian took him by the shoulder and stopped him. He pointed over to a very beautiful blonde headed girl and said, "There! Her name is Cassandra. She is the daughter of Lord Finnigan of Causperias. Tell me she is not a beauty."

Thaddeus looked at her carefully and said, "Yes, she is beautiful," and began walking once more.

"Be reasonable, Thaddeus. If you do not take a woman to marry, at least take one to bed," Sebastian said as he slipped his arm around Thaddeus's neck, pulling him close. With a big grin, Sebastian added, "Or two."

"Sebastian, you know my family and their stance on such things. I am to be a gentleman. I am to save myself for my queen," he replied.

"Let us hope that there is a lady in the kingdom who has saved herself for you," Sebastian said under his breath as they continued on.

"I heard that," Thaddeus said with a laugh.

Suddenly, Thaddeus heard the faint cry of a woman over the music and laughter. Thaddeus looked over to the edge of the clearing when he saw that five men had formed a circle around a young woman. They were taunting her, pushing her back and forth between them, and making some very distasteful comments.

"Do you see that, Sebastian?" he asked.

"Yes, just some of the town's folk having a little fun," he calmly replied.

"It does not look like she is having fun," Thaddeus said as he started to walk toward the commotion. "No one is even trying to stop it. Fifty men stand by and turn a blind eye."

"Thaddeus, this is common behavior. Come, let us rejoin the feast," Sebastian said as he motioned for Thaddeus to come with him, but it was too late. The King was marching over to the woman and the five miscreants. "Here we go," Sebastian said as he followed after the King.

"You be a right pretty little girl," a yellow toothed man said as he pushed the young girl over to his friend.

"You are so pretty. I think I will take you home with me," said the other man.

The girl whirled around and slapped the man hard across the face. He grabbed her by the wrist, raised his other hand to hit her and said, "Why you little-," but his words were cut short as a large hand wrapped around his forearm.

Thaddeus swung his free arm and landed his large knuckles square on the man's chin. The man collapsed to the ground. The other four men charged at him. He grabbed two of them and smashed their heads together. Their knees buckled and they went crashing to the ground. Another man charged blindly at the King but was met by a vicious uppercut that sent him flying through the air. The last man pulled a dagger and was about to attack the King when he stopped dead in his tracks, turning white as a ghost.

"You're . . . you're . . . the King!" he exclaimed as he fell to his knees. "My apologies, King Graystone. We were just having a bit of fun."

Sebastian and two guards came rushing over.

"Take these men and lock them in the dungeon. I will deal with them later," said Thaddeus.

"Yes, my King," one of the guards replied as they rounded the five men up and began to march them toward the castle.

The young woman had fallen to the ground during the tussle. Thaddeus walked over to her and held out his hand. She took it and he helped her up to her feet. As soon as she stood, their eyes met and Thaddeus had fallen in love. He softly wiped a tear from her cheek.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"Yes. I am fine," the girl replied.

"Did they hurt you?" he asked again.

"No. They were just drunk. Please do not be so harsh on them. They are good men, usually," she pleaded.

"I will deal with them accordingly. There is no room for such behavior in my kingdom," Thaddeus replied.

They spent the rest of the night sitting alone at the edge of the clearing. She was the daughter of a local farmer, her name was Emilia. She told the King the only reason she came to the feast was to help her papa deliver his large order of vegetables. A great deal of their time was spent getting to know one another. The more they talked, the deeper in love Thaddeus fell. At the end of the night the King walked Emilia back to her home, just outside of the city. The moon was in full bloom and the pale light almost seemed to make Emilia's skin glow. They stood at the door to her home, awkwardly, until he broke the silence.

"When can I see you again?" he asked.

"See me again?" Emilia replied with a hint of confusion in her voice.

"Yes. When can I see you again?"

Emilia put her hand to her mouth and gasped. Her face turned red, and she turned around, letting out a girlish giggle. After a few seconds she turned back and said, "Do you want to see me again?"

"Very much so," Thaddeus said with rosy cheeks of his own. "What if I send a carriage to pick you up tomorrow at sunset? You can come to the castle for dinner."

Thaddeus noticed that Emilia looked as if she was about to turn and flee, but she nodded her head vigorously and said, "Yes. That would be nice."

"Very well then, I will see you tomorrow evening," Thaddeus said excitedly.

She began to giggle and a large grin grew on her face, showing her pearly white teeth.

Thaddeus fell to one knee, bowed his head, and said, "Good night, my lady."

"Good night," she replied as she opened the door to her home and disappeared inside.

Thaddeus walked slowly back to the castle. He turned around hoping to catch another glimpse of Emilia. When his eyes focused on the front window of the small ramshackle home, the curtain quickly pulled shut. Thaddeus could see her silhouette behind the curtain. His heart fluttered. He could not believe that Emilia had accepted his dinner invite. This was the happiest he had been since he was a child. He now understood the expression "butterflies in your stomach." Walking back to the castle by the light of the moon, Thaddeus had an extra spring in his step, and a smile that could not be erased.

Looking at the painting he realized that this was the memory he wanted to forever hold of his dearly departed Emilia, not the blood covered image that haunted him now. He tore the painting down from the wall, folded it neatly, and stuck it in his bag. He was now ready to embrace his destiny; only one loose end remained before he could depart.

Locmire, Red, River, and Thaddeus stood around a long stone slab which supported Emilia's body. Her bloody gown had been replaced with a new white dress. River had brushed her hair and pulled it in a braid behind her head. She tied a scarf around her neck to hide the wound that ended her life. She looks at peace, Thaddeus thought, even though the color had left her face and her pink lips had turned a pale blue.

The joiner, who an hour ago was performing a marriage ritual, was now performing the traditional burial ceremony. Once the joiner had finished, Thaddeus nodded to Locmire. Stepping forward with his staff in hand, Locmire extended the long piece of wood and a red spark flashed at the tip. He touched it to Thaddeus's love and a large flame engulfed the Queen in eternal slumber. A moment later her ashes slowly floated away with the wind. He then touched his staff to the bodies of five little girls, Emilia's sisters, and her parents. Within moments, their bodies became ash and were swept away with the wind as well. They all stood and watched as the ashen remains slowly floated away. The only family Thaddeus had left was now gone.

Thaddeus collected himself, turned to Locmire and said, "Let us go. We have many leagues to travel. The Engenium Kingdom of Lasticall is at least a half a day's ride away. We must reach them soon, before they suffer the same fate as so many did here today."

"I agree. We must hurry, but our work in Ravendale is not done. There is another Savior here that we must seek," stated the Wizard.

"Another Savior?" questioned Thaddeus. "There are no other races currently in Galdarath. From what land does this Savior come? Morgorath? The Dead Marsh?"

Locmire replied, "Neither. He hails from Galdarath."

"What?" Thaddeus asked in disbelief. "If he is from Galdarath then he must be Human. You said the new Saviors were to be the last of their bloodline. I am the last of the Graystones. Stop speaking in mystery and tell me what you mean!" Thaddeus commanded.

"It is a most unusual circumstance with the Human bloodline. While all of the other bloodlines are on their last limbs, the Graystone bloodline is a little stronger. Earlier when I told you of the prophecy, I said you were part of the last of your bloodline, part being the key word. The other part resides somewhere in this kingdom. The other one I speak of is your brother. Your twin brother." Locmire paused waiting for Thaddeus to reply.

Thaddeus looked as if he just found out the world he had known was a lie. How could I have a brother and never know of him? Why has no one told me? He took a moment to ponder these thoughts.

"You must be mistaken, Wizard. I have no brother. I am an only child," Thaddeus told Locmire.

"But you are not an only child. Your father feared a day like this may come. He could not have both of his sons together, it would be too dangerous. When the two of you were born, your father decided to separate you. You, Thaddeus, were the fortunate one. You became the Prince of Galdarath. Your brother, on the other hand, was given away to a family in the village. He was erased from Graystone family memory to protect his identity. Your own mother did not even know of this plan. She was led to believe that he was too weak and did not survive the birthing process. Your brother's new family took him as their own, along with a small monthly sum of gold to care for the child. Your brother lives today, and I have strong reason to believe that he still lives in the Kingdom of Galdarath," Locmire finished.

"How do you know these things, Wizard?" Thaddeus asked.

"I know many things, Thaddeus. It is one of my duties," said the Wizard.

"If this is true then tell me my brother's name. We must go to him. If you know such things, I am sure The Dark Wizard knows as well. I am familiar with the majority of the people living in Galdarath. Tell me his name so we can go to him," Thaddeus demanded.

"His name is, Lot. Lot Caskill," said Locmire.

With the mere mention of this name Thaddeus's face turned from that of joy and excitement to disgust and anger.

"You must be joking, Wizard. That man cannot be my brother," Thaddeus said.

"Aye! Great, ye know em den! Gonna make da whole process of findin him loads easier. Me loves da taught of a family reunion!" exclaimed Red.

Thaddeus gave Red a sharp look, and the Pirate's excitement ended abruptly.

"You know of this man? If so, Red is right. This will make finding him much easier," River spoke, for the first time in quite some time.

"Yes. I know of him. I know him very well, and I know exactly where he is at this precise moment," he paused briefly. "Locmire, are you certain this man is my brother. No mistaking it. He is definitely my brother and we must take him along?"

"I am certain," Locmire replied.

"Very well. Follow me," Thaddeus said blandly.

The four gathered their belongings and set off. It took Locmire by surprise when they did not leave the courtyard, but instead began to make their way toward the castle.

# Chapter 7

# The Thief and the Third

The castle dungeon was dimly lit and gave off a musty smell from the stagnant water that pooled between the cracks of the stone floor; mildew grew around the bottom of the walls. Inside each cell sat a rusty bucket for the prisoner's excrement, which was only emptied once a week. Rats ran freely through the mostly unoccupied cells. Moss grew on, and in between, the large square stones that kept the prisoners in and the rest of the world out.

A middle-aged guard sat asleep in a chair next to the entrance of the dungeon with a large key ring dangling from his side. The door to the dungeon unexpectedly flung open as if an angry wind had slammed its fist into it. The guard bolted upright out of his chair where he was met with words of fury that sent him stumbling backwards to escape the wrath that was upon him.

"What good does it do to have a guard who sleeps? Can you not manage to stay awake for a single watch?" Thaddeus advanced upon the guard and demanded, "What is your name?"

The round guard answered, "My . . . my . . . my name is Charles . . . Charles Lintwood."

"Well, Charles Lintwood, you are relieved of your watch. Take yourself outside and start cleaning up the mess. The bodies need to be arranged for burial."

"The. . . the. . . bodies, my king? What bodies?" asked Charles.

"Never mind you that. Do as you are told!" exclaimed Thaddeus.

Charles did not hesitate. He waddled up the stairs, not looking back.

"Locmire," Thaddeus roared. "The man you seek is imprisoned here in my dungeon. He is a thief. He has caused the kingdom, and myself, great loss. He is the biggest nuisance in all of Galdarath. I do not think he is the one you seek."

In the first cell, the eight sets of eyes fell upon a man sitting in the corner; rusty shackles bound his ankles and wrists. His long, brown, stringy hair hung in his face. He was dressed in worn leather armor, with a leather hood hanging on the back of his neck. A dented tin pan full of small bones sat in the middle of his cell, no doubt the remains of his daily meal. The man looked up with a grin on his face. His white teeth shone through the darkness, a very unusual trait for such a ragged looking man.

"Ahhh, my King blesses me with his gracious presence. Pardon me if I do not fall to my knees and bow," said the dirty man begrudgingly.

"You will watch your tongue, scoundrel," said the King as he advanced toward the iron barred cell.

"Thaddeus, may I speak to him?" asked Locmire.

"If you must, but be warned, all that comes from this man's mouth will be lies," Thaddeus said.

"Arr, nuttin like brudderly love!" Red added.

Thaddeus shot him another look. His patience was running thin with Red. This man needs to learn to stay his tongue, Thaddeus thought.

"Red, I think we should stay out of this. Let's take a look around," said River as she took Red's hand and led him away.

"Me never turns down da chance to steal away wit a purdy dame," Red said as he let River lead him away.

Locmire turned to the prisoner and said, "My name is Locmire from Fogarth. May I ask your name?"

"Ha! I must be dreaming. A Wizard, all the way from the west, has come to see me. Well, I will indulge you. My name is Lot. Lot Caskill," the Thief said as he made his way to his feet. "Why are you here? Did I take something of personal value to you?" he asked amusingly.

"No, no you did not. I am here on an important quest and I require your service," said Locmire.

"A quest? And you need me? What is this? Some sort of trick, Thaddeus?" Lot asked as he directed his attention to his unknown brother.

Thaddeus stared back at Locmire, but did not reply.

"Lot, the Dark Wizard Hasbarie has returned. I am sure you have heard of him, as well as the Saviors. The time has come for the Saviors to unite once more. It is time for you to fulfill your destiny," said Locmire.

"Hasbarie? The Saviors?" he laughed loudly. "You must take me for a fool," Lot said as he approached the iron bars.

"I assure you, Lot, this is no ruse. Hundreds lay dead on the ground above our heads. The threat is real and it is upon us. We must go quickly. Come with us and I will explain the rest to you as we go," said Locmire.

Lot stood in awe. Can it be true? No, it couldn't be, he thought. This meeting did seem awful strange, though. There was a dire sense of urgency about the Wizard standing in front of him.

"Suppose you are telling the truth. Why do you need me? What part do I play in all of this?" asked Lot.

"You are part of the last of the Graystone bloodline, the bloodline to which the original Savior, Ryker, belonged. Thaddeus, the King, is your twin brother. The two of you were separated at birth for your safety. I know all of this must be a bit overwhelming, but you must believe me. You must fulfill your destiny, Lot. Come with us," Locmire pleaded.

"Now I know you are here to make a fool of me. I am no Graystone. Have you not noticed? Although I currently reside in the castle, I am not royalty, and I am definitely not the brother of this tyrant," rebutted Lot.

Thaddeus walked over to the cage and stared at Lot. Lot came closer to the cell door and the two brothers locked eyes, like two dogs ready to fight. Then something happened that took Lot by surprise. Thaddeus held out a large key ring, apparently taken from Charles unnoticed, unlocked the cell door, and gave it a hard shove as he stepped away.

"The Wizard speaks the truth. As much as I despise the idea, I believe him. You are needed. It is time to repay your debt to society," Thaddeus said.

"Undo my shackles," Lot demanded.

Thaddeus walked apprehensively over to Lot and unbound his wrists and ankles. The heavy iron shackles clanged as they crashed onto the stone floor.

"This is no laugh. If what you say is true and Hasbarie has returned, then what choice do I have? Fight and give the world a chance to carry on, or flee, and chance the world I know ending. If these are my choices," he paused for a moment rubbing his wrists, "Then I choose to fight," he said as he climbed out of his cell.

"You have made this very easy, Lot. Come, we must go. There is much work to be done," Locmire said.

"I will join you . . . on two conditions," Lot said as he stood frozen in his tracks.

"You do not get conditions! You are lucky to be alive. Do not push your luck, rat!" erupted Thaddeus with rage.

"Thaddeus, for the sake of all life on this world, you two must learn to coexist," interjected Locmire.

Thaddeus stared a hole through his brother, cracking his neck from side to side.

"What do you require, Lot?" asked Locmire.

"First I need my equipment back, all of it," Lot demanded.

Thaddeus did not say a word. He strode over to a large chest and unlocked it with his keys. He took out a satchel and two short swords and flung them at Lot. Lot caught them, looked into the satchel, and wrapped it around his shoulder. He sheathed the twenty inch blades to his hips. Thaddeus could not help but to admire the two dragon bone blades that the Thief carried. If these swords were actually his, and not stolen, then he was undoubtedly tied to Graystone blood.

"Second, I require the release of my new friend here," pointing over to the cell across from him. "He does not deserve this injustice."

Standing inside the cell adjacent to Lot was a small framed man. He was young, in his late twenty's, early thirties. He had short, dirty blonde hair and a scruffy beard. Although his frame was small, his muscles were well defined. He was wearing a gray set of trousers, a dirty white shirt, suspenders, and black boots. His bright blue eyes pierced Locmire's soul. Right away he knew man would be his third.

"There is no way we are releasing this man. He is a savage. He was found at a nearby farm on his hands and knees eating a goat, still with life in its body. This man shall rot in here for his unnatural act," Thaddeus said adamantly concerning the release of the prisoner.

"What is your name?" asked Locmire.

"My name is Caleb. Caleb Hawks," answered the presumed savage.

"You are not from here. Are you, Caleb?" Locmire asked.

"No sir, I am not. I have no clue where I am."

"How did you get to this land?" Locmire asked.

"I am not sure. A few days ago I was in the forest where I live, exploring a cave that I stumbled upon. A good bit back in the cave I stepped into a hole. I didn't know it was there. It was too dark. The next thing I know I was falling. I fell for a long time and lost consciousness. When I awoke, I was in a field with no clue as to my whereabouts," Caleb said in one long breath.

"Thaddeus, I know you have objections about releasing this man, but I do believe I have found my third warrior," Locmire stated.

"You call this man a warrior? Look at him. He is no warrior, savage maybe, but not a warrior," said Thaddeus.

"I was hungry! I hadn't eaten in days," Caleb said as he climbed to his feet pleading his case. "Anytime I saw someone and asked for help they took one look at me and ran. What choice did I have? I was starving."

Locmire stared directly at Thaddeus. The King hated when he did this. He had only known the Wizard for a little over an hour, but he already despised his hidden stare. How does he even know what he was looking at with that cowl covering his eyes all the time? Thaddeus thought.

"Fine," Thaddeus said as he unlocked the man's cage, "My words do not carry weight anymore. Do as you please."

"Caleb, you obviously overheard the story I told to Lot. There is another part of this prophecy that involves you. Three unknown warriors are to be sent to aid us in our battle. I have found two already," pointing at Red and River. "I do believe you are the third. I can explain everything to you as we go. You are now free, nothing holds you here anymore. Will you join us?" asked Locmire.

"I am here for a reason, I suppose. I have no knowledge of this place. I can't survive here on my own, I have already proven that. What choice do I have?" He looked around. "This is all very strange. I still believe myself to be dreaming."

"Haha," laughed Lot. "Friend, I told you that I would get us out of here."

"That you did, and I am grateful," Caleb said.

"Can you defend yourself? You look like no warrior to me," the King asked.

"I can defend myself. I have been in war before, the Civil War," Caleb replied.

"There is nothing civil about war. What type of war was this?" asked Thaddeus.

"It was an atrocious war in my world. It divided my country into two feuding factions, North vs. South. It lasted four years and many people died, over 200,000 from combat. I was one of the lucky ones who survived," said Caleb.

"There is no luck in war, only skill," said Thaddeus.

"Arrr, lad. Whur be yur homeland?"

"The United States of America. Are you . . . are you a pirate?" asked Caleb.

"Arrr, dat me be's. One of da last. Me set sail to da United States once, to do a lil tradin in a place called Nurth Carlina, not too frienly to an ole sea Cap'n like me self," said Red.

"You have been to North Carolina?" Caleb asked with wonder.

"Aye, me has," Red replied.

"I hate to be rude but we must be off. Caleb, what weaponry do you require? I am sure Thaddeus can find you something lying around," said Locmire.

"I don't require weapons. I am all set, just looking forward to the time when we can sit down and hash this entire thing out. I would like to have my satchel back," Caleb replied.

Once again Locmire found himself having trouble understanding some of the words that were being used by his new companions. What does "hash it out" mean? This phrase was unknown to him, but he did understand that Caleb and Red were from the same world.

"This one should not last long. What is he going to do? Destroy Hasbarie's forces with his bare hands?" Thaddeus said as he threw Caleb's leather satchel to him.

"Something like that," said Caleb as he examined the contents of his bag.

"If that is your wish, Caleb, let us take leave now. We have much to do and much to explain to our two new party members," Locmire said as he headed up the stairs leading out of the dungeon.

As they left, River gave Lot a shy grin as she walked past him. As Lot's eyes followed River up the stairs, his view was blocked by a large man. The King wrapped his thick hand around the collar of Lot's leather armor.

"Listen to me and listen closely. Just because you were born of the same blood as me, it does not make you my brother," Thaddeus said with a foul look on his face.

"Nor would it make me ever call you mine," Lot said as he ripped Thaddeus's hand away from him. "And I suggest you keep your hands off of me, if you want to keep them," Lot said menacingly as he and Thaddeus peered into each other's souls, only inches apart from one another.

Thaddeus turned and stormed off up the stairs. He stopped half way, turned to Red and said, "There should be some armor lying around down here if you want to outfit yourself."

"Me may takes ye up on dat offa," Red replied.

Lot was still standing in the same spot, shooting daggers at Thaddeus with his eyes.

"Yur brudder be havin a hard time right now. Just lost his Queen an a bunch of his crew. It be new for him too. Juss give da lad some time. He be comin round bafore ye knows it," Red said as he walked over to an old trunk.

"Thank you again. I would have rotted down here if it had not been for you," Caleb said as he placed his hand on Lot's shoulder.

"Don't mention it. No one deserves to be locked in a dungeon for being hungry and seeking a bite to eat," he said as he watched Red pick himself out a set of leather armor. "This is all still very strange. Keep on your guard. We do not know what is really going on here," the Thief said.

Caleb gave Lot a nod and headed up the stairs with the Thief following closely behind him. Red slipped on his new, slightly used, leather armor and exited the dungeon.

# Chapter 8

# Morgorath

"Do you yield?" Kraydar asked, hovering above the defeated Brazurkin.

The tired and beaten Brazurkin looked up at Kraydar with a grimace; pain radiated throughout his entire body. Kraydar's war hammer had connected with devastating force to the Brazurkin's midsection, finishing the fight as quickly as it had begun.

"I yield," the Brazurkin said as he collapsed onto his back underneath a cloudless, blue sky.

The crowd of onlookers erupted with cheers. Kraydar was their champion, and he had just bested yet another cocky, up and coming warrior in the practice arena. It was a good thing for the fallen warrior that this was not an actual test of combat prowess; otherwise, he would be preparing to have his horns removed.

Kraydar was the highest ranking official in the army of Morgorath, for he had led the army into numerous battles, emerging victorious every single time. Having fought side by side with King Urganox on many occasions, Kraydar had gained King Urganox's utmost respect.

He was a behemoth of his race, with only King Urganox being larger. His horns measured three feet in length. They rose up a foot from the base of his skull, made an abrupt hundred degree angle off the back of his head and tightly intertwined. With age finally catching up to him, Kraydar's new role was to ready the young warriors for service to Morgorath. He trained the new warriors just as he had been trained so many years ago. He tested the young Brazurkins with a brutal, but proven, regimen which served to break the will of the new recruits and reprogram them into machines of war.

As Kraydar helped the bested Brazurkin to his feet, a cry rang out from one of the watch towers, "Savages at the gates!"

Without hesitation the Brazurkins in the practice arena readied their weapons and turned to Kraydar for instruction.

"It is about time," Kraydar said. "It has been too long since we have had the opportunity to defend our city. Everyone! To the gates at once!"

Aside from it being one of the central trading hubs of Calencia, Morgorath was known for its reputation to defend off any attack, from any foe. The city was located in a valley between two mountain ranges, the Arplasia Mountains and Pizenchaffe Mountains. The only way into the city was through the heavily fortified front gate. Over the years, Morgorath had been under siege numerous times and at no point was the city ever close to being captured.

Kraydar and his troops made their way to the large gate at the entrance to the city and stood ready.

"Who has become brave enough to attack the city this time?" Kraydar asked.

The Brazurkin on the watch tower answered, "The Bear Men from the east."

"It does not matter," Kraydar replied. "They will meet death just as quickly as all of the others who have been brazen enough to attack Morgorath!"

The watch guard said, "It appears that there are at least two hundred of them."

A slight hint of panic grew on Kraydar's face. He had heard of the Bear Men but had never faced them in battle. They were dark skinned Humans who chose not to live within the confines of Galdarath. The infamous cannibalistic savages worshiped a mythical bear named Totat and wore the heads of slain bears upon their own. They secured bear claws, laced with poison, to the ends of their fingers. Their personalities were just as menacing as their appearance.

Once, Galdarath sent two hundred soldiers, fifty of which were cavalry, to drive the Bear Men away from the outskirts of the kingdom. The soldiers were horrifically slaughtered. The Bear Men constructed a shrine made from the bones of the fallen soldiers outside of the city, which signified their intentions of taking up permanent residency. King Ronan Graystone, Thaddeus's father, assembled the entire kingdom of Galdarath to stand against the Bear Men. Outnumbered, twenty thousand to five hundred, the Bear Men reluctantly turned away from Galdarath and laid claim to a small peninsula in the northern Free Lands.

The only Brazurkin to ever face a Bear Man was King Urganox. Once, during his travels, he came across five of the savages looting a small carriage that they had just ambushed. The bodies of three Humans, and two Raptilians, lay lifeless on the ground. One look at the King and they attacked. Although, King Urganox was accustomed to five to one odds in battle, this skirmish proved to be quite difficult. The Bear Men, who were only armed with clubs, gave the King the fight of his life. His superior size and strength, not to mention his kite shield and three- balled flail, helped him to overcome them. Afterwards, the King had told Kraydar that it was one of the most brutal battles he had ever been in and that the Bear Men fought unlike any other foe he had ever faced.

I wish that King Urganox was here, Kraydar thought.

King Urganox Skullsplitter had traveled south over a month ago to meet with a representative of the Dead Marsh to find out why they had not been shipping medicine to Morgorath. It had been over three months since Morgorath had received its last shipment from the Raptilians, and this was very unusual. The King, deciding that he was long overdue a break from the city, set out to resolve the situation, leaving Kraydar, his most trusted and loyal servant, in charge.

Kraydar glanced back at the warrior Brazurkins behind him, and his confidence swelled. He looked to the watch guard and said, "Open the gates."

As soon as the gates opened, the Bear Men charged. The Brazurkins, who were trained to defend their city at all costs, met the invaders without fear. The first wave of Bear Men was destroyed effortlessly when they ran into the immovable wall of Brazurkins.

Kraydar called out to the watch guard, "Keep me informed on their movements!"

"Right now they seem to be-," but the watch guard was silenced as a spear met his heart. He fell head first over the wall.

"They are climbing over the gate!" a Brazurkin yelled.

Fifty or more of the Bear Men were now coming over the large wooden gate. This disrupted Kraydar's plan of funneling them all through the small opening where they would be slaughtered like lambs.

"Break formation!" Kraydar cried out as the Bear Men began to pour over the protective barrier.

The battle that ensued was deadly; many Brazurkins, and Bear Men alike, met their fates. The bear-faced men were ruthless. They fought with a passion, or insanity, that Kraydar had never before witnessed. They showed neither fear, nor regard for their own lives, and they were on the verge of seizing the city.

The Brazurkins had been trained to defend attackers from entering through the gates. Once the invaders flooded into the city, their training was forgotten. This marked the first time that anyone, or anything, had ever breached the city wall, and they were unprepared for this type of combat. It was total chaos.

Kraydar saw the tide of battle slowly beginning to favor the Bear Men. He knew that he must act or Morgorath would certainly fall. He began to scan the fray for their leader. After several minutes, he finally spotted the man for whom he was searching. Standing at the gates was a large man covered in the fur of a white bear, which contrasted heavily against his dark skin; an oversized battle axe was clenched tight in his large hands. Kraydar began to sprint toward the white, bear-like man, with his war hammer in hand. He came upon the leader and swung his hammer, putting all of his might behind it. The Bear Man calmly stepped aside as Kraydar's hammer smashed into the ground. The large man swung his axe, but Kraydar was able to lean out of the way. The two warriors engaged in a fierce battle in which neither one could seem to gain the upper hand.

King Urganox was, at last, making his return to Morgorath upon successfully resolving the trading issues with the Raptilians. He thoroughly enjoyed his time spent with the Raptilian Queen, Jeszekia Venumroot.

Urganox was the largest Brazurkin in the entire kingdom of Morgorath. He stood nearly nine feet tall and looked to be nearly as wide. The King's large horns resembled that of a mighty ram. He wore only a brown breech cloth, a pair of leather boots, and a baldric across his shoulder. His large battered kite shield was strapped to his back; his flail was secured to his baldric. As he closed in on his city, he noticed something was amiss. The gates stood open and the watch guards were nowhere to be seen. He prodded his horse and sped toward his city.

Kraydar had just made the first mistake of his life during battle. He let his fear overtake him. He was swinging at the white bear with all of his might when it happened; he became winded. His strikes became much slower, until the point where he could no longer swing his hammer. He fell to a knee. The leader of the Bear Men lingered over him, not saying a word. He raised the axe over his head and began to bring it down upon Kraydar. The Brazurkin put his hands over his head, and to his surprise, did not feel the Bear Man's steel. He looked up to see that the large man's white garment was now predominately red. A spear protruded from his chest. He looked behind the man to see King Urganox walking toward the gate.

"I am glad to see you, my King," Kraydar called out, panting for breath, as he took to his feet. "The city . . . it has been . . . overrun."

Urganox was marching toward his city, intent on putting an end to the attack. He knew that his arrival would ignite a fire within the souls of his warriors.

As he stepped through the gates, something brought him to an abrupt halt. Every warrior on the battlefield ceased fighting and looked west toward the Arplasia mountain range. A large, black cloud, which was more like a thick blanket of fog, began to roll over the mountain. The entire city went dark.

Urganox stood at the gates watching the black cloud roll over the mountain range and engulf the city. All of a sudden the ground began to shake, but Urganox could not see what was happening through the black fog. He took a step backward, when what sounded like a thousand horses came his way. Bits of rock and gravel began to sting his flesh and dust filled his eyes. From within the fog, large boulders began to leap out at him. The Arplasia Mountains, which had always served as a defensive structure to Morgorath, was now crumbling down and destroying his city. He evaded four of the giant boulders, dodging and rolling out of the way. A fifth chunk of rock seemed to leap out at him from out of nowhere. It violently drove him into the ground; smaller rocks and debris began to pile on top of him. Everything went black.

# Chapter 9

# The Battle of Ravendale

As the group exited the dungeon and made their way to the courtyard, a small army clad in steel armor met them. A man on a black horse trotted up to them. He, unlike the others, donned an intimidating suit of black plate armor with gold inlays with a full faced helmet. A large claymore was slung across his back. The crest of Causperias was imprinted on his chest plate. He was Causperias's general, and Thaddeus's dearest friend, Sebastian Buxton.

The group of heroes stopped in front of the army as Thaddeus called out to the general, "Sebastian, thank the gods you are here."

The man flipped up the face of his helmet and said, "Thaddeus, what has happened here? We came as soon as we heard."

"We were attacked, Sebastian. None, except the lot you see here, survived," said the King.

"Attacked by whom? What is going on Thaddeus?" Sebastian asked as he dismounted his horse.

"As hard as it is to believe, Hasbarie has returned. You may not believe me, but I tell you the truth. He sent his forces here to kill me, but as you can see, they have failed."

Sebastian's face became expressionless. "By the gods, Thaddeus! I feared you to be dead. We are at your command. What are you orders?" asked Sebastian.

"Sebastian, I must depart for some time. I relinquish the Kingdom of Galdarath to you," said the King.

Sebastian said apprehensively, "My King, I do not wish to hold the reigns of the kingdom. I do not possess the ability to lead Galdarath in such times. I wish to join the fight, by your side, as we have so many times before."

"There is no negotiation involving this matter. I need you to rally the armies of Galdarath and fortify our kingdoms. You have lead Galdarath before, after my father died, and did so exceptionally well. Prepare our cities to defend themselves, and prepare our troops for war. Equip every able bodied man and provide whatever training you can. Dark times are on the horizon, and Galdarath must not fall to this evil." He paused briefly to look into Sebastian's eyes and continued. "Have all of the bodies before us laid to rest with a proper ceremony. Compensate their families for their losses. Try not to cause panic amongst the people, but do inform them of the threat we face. I know you will follow my orders, old friend. Time is short, I must take leave."

"Yes, my King," Sebastian said as he dropped to one knee and bowed before Thaddeus.

As Thaddeus and his new companions attempted to exit the courtyard, a man from the city came rushing through the gates.

"Thank goodness you are here! The city! It is under attack!" panted the out of breath man. "We need your help! The guards are being overrun!"

Thaddeus and Locmire exchanged a dreadful glance. The King turned to Sebastian and said, "To the city at once! Ravendale must not fall! We must defend the capital!"

Thaddeus and his companions, along with the army of Causperias, bolted from the castle grounds to save the capital city.

Horror filled their hearts upon seeing the ruthless assault on Ravendale. All throughout the streets the citizens were fleeing for their lives. Thousands of the Breathless filled the streets, striking down all defenseless villagers in their paths. The Breathless lashed out at the villagers as they ran by, frantically searching for safety. The guards tried their best to defend the city, but the numbers of the Breathless were too great. Dozens of the armor clad guards lay dead on the street. Upon every fallen body, the Breathless feasted on their warm flesh, tearing it away with their teeth

Thaddeus hoisted his axe into the air and roared, "Attack!" but before any of the men could advance, Caleb performed an act that caused all of them to freeze in their tracks. Caleb Hawks was rushing down the stone street, unarmed, right toward five of the Breathless who were trying to overthrow two inept guardsmen.

Thaddeus bellowed, "You fool! You rush to your death!"

Caleb did not hear him, or if he did, he did not heed his words. He was too focused on the enemies before him as he came barreling down upon them.

As soon as he came into range, Caleb launched himself into the air. Instantaneously, he transformed into an enormous purple panther. He pounced on two of the Breathless and tore at their throats with his long claws. The reanimated corpses fell lifeless before him. The other three turned on him, lashing out, but he evaded their attacks by leaping high into the air, transforming yet again. This time he took the form of an eagle. His two large talons sank deep into the flesh of the abominations, and he soared toward the clouds with them clutched in his grip. He was a few hundred feet above the ground when he released his hold on the creatures. He dove swiftly back to the ground, transforming once again. This time he turned into a golden lion. He swiped the remaining foe in front of him with his large powerful paw. The creature's head flew off of its shoulders. As the other two Breathless came plummeting toward the ground he transformed, once again, into a massive gray wolf. When the falling attackers smacked onto the stone streets he finished them off with quick snaps of his teeth to their throats.

He turned back into his natural form, looking back at Thaddeus, who was still frozen in his tracks and said, "No need for weapons." He transformed into a brown bear and tore through the streets, mauling anything that wasn't human.

Thaddeus looked at Locmire in amazement. Locmire returned his look with a slight grin.

"Attack!" yelled Thaddeus.

The King and his men flooded the streets, cutting through the overwhelming number of corpses. The battle had spread out through the entire city of Ravendale. It was chaos in the streets as defenseless villagers fled for their lives from Hasbarie's pawns. The army of Causperias helped to even the odds against the Breathless. After much effort, Thaddeus and his companions finally battled their way to the town square.

"Thaddeus," Locmire said in a loud voice as he cast fireball after fireball into the horde of dead bodies.

"Kind of busy right now, Wizard," Thaddeus returned as he went to work with his giant axe.

"These creatures cannot appear by themselves. There has to be someone here in the city who is summoning them," said the Master Wizard as he made a large sweeping arc with his staff, incinerating a group of attackers to his left.

Sebastian, who was covered in black blood, said, "You mean if we can find the person summoning these devils, we can put an end to this?"

"Precisely," answered Locmire.

"Thaddeus!" Lot cried as he effortlessly sliced and diced his way through the Breathless with his short swords. "You, Sebastian, and the Wizard stay here and protect the town. I will take Red and River with me and search for the Summoner."

"You do not give orders! I am the King!" roared Thaddeus as he dropped his axe and drew the swords from his hips. One of the Breathless was about to grab hold of him, but he kicked the creature back and thrust a sword through its soft skull.

"Thaddeus," Locmire cried. "Let him go, we must work together."

"Fine! Go!" yelled Thaddeus, swinging his swords in quick succession, sending rotten appendages flying through the air.

"Red! River! To me!" Lot ordered.

"Aye aye!" Red said as he sheathed one of his cutlasses and pulled out his pistol, producing a loud chain reaction of bangs that stopped six of the Breathless in their tracks.

River nodded her head to Lot as she muttered something under her breath and slammed the end of her staff hard into the ground before her, setting dozens of the Breathless ablaze.

As Lot, River, and Red left the square they saw Sebastian plowing forward with his shoulder down and claymore in front of him, charging an oncoming wave of attackers. He skewered the bodies of rotten flesh, collecting them on his sword like vegetables on a roasting stick. As soon as Sebastian passed by them, a large eagle came swooping down grabbing the Breathless, three and four at a time. Caleb would then fly them high into the clouds, release them, dive back down, and repeat the vicious cycle.

Lot and his crew ran from the square, dodging several bodies falling from the sky. It was like being caught in a hail storm of rotten corpses. The trio fought their way through the village, keeping a keen eye out for anyone who looked out of place. They were met with great resistance on several occasions by attacking waves of Breathless, but they dispatched of them rather quickly. Red and River proved to be very capable warriors, but Lot's skill surpassed them both. He fought with a fierce passion that Red could only compare to that of his brother, Thaddeus. After dealing with a large mob of the walking dead, something caught River's eye.

"Lot! Look to your right! Behind that stone statue!" yelled River.

Lot turned his attention to a figure dressed in a black robe. He was neither fighting, nor was he fleeing. The dark figure stood calmly waving his arms in a circular motion and chanting something in an unknown tongue.

"Well blow me down! Thar da trouble maker be!" Red said as he started cutting his way through the droves of the Breathless, making his way toward the figure.

"That has to be him. Follow me!" Lot commanded.

Lot was casually slicing his way through Hasbarie's forces. He had almost come within striking distance of the Summoner, but the figure finally noticed that he had been spotted and began to run. The trio gave chase, following the Summoner through alleyways, around corners, and down body strewn streets. The mysterious man was fast, but they were gaining on him.

Lot yelled, "River! Push him between the two buildings on the right!"

River stopped, muttered something, and a large brown wave came erupting from her staff. The spell hit the side of a building and sent the structure tumbling down right in front of the fleeing man. He made a sharp right turn. He was heading the way Lot had intended for him to go.

Lot, River, and Red barreled down the alleyway behind the man when he suddenly turned back toward them. He saw them, stopped, started to run again, but stopped once more. He was in the town square, trapped like a fox in a cage. Thaddeus, Locmire, Sebastian, and Caleb had his escape route blocked. He had become cornered with no place to flee.

Thaddeus came rushing toward the man, dropping his swords in the process. He wrapped both of his hands in the man's robe, hoisted him into the air, and drove him into the nearby building, producing a loud thud as the Summoner's wind left his lungs. The mysterious man crumpled to the ground.

Lot drew his sword and placed it to the man's neck, "Do not move, friend. Unless you seek death."

"Arrr! He be a fast lil bugga. Man runnin like dat sure not wantin to be caught. Why ye be running lad?" asked the Pirate.

The man did not answer. He stared blankly at the heroes with his black soulless eyes.

"I will get answers from him!" Thaddeus said as he moved Lot aside.

He gripped the man by the throat and brought him to a standing position.

"You will answer me now! Who are you? What is your motive? What would possess you to come into my kingdom, perform such acts, and expect to live?" The King asked as he squeezed the man's throat tightly.

The Summoner remained silent.

"Thaddeus," said Locmire, as he put a hand on the King's shoulder, "this man has no inclination as to what he is doing. Look at his eyes. He is possessed, most likely by Hasbarie himself. He sees nothing. The only person occupying this man's mind is the Dark Wizard."

Thaddeus looked back and forth between Locmire and the black eyed man. Rage filled his heart. "Well then, if the one who delivers this message is not home, I shall deliver a message to the sender." Thaddeus pulled the man close to his face and looked deep into his eyes. "Hasbarie! Why do you not come and face me yourself? Have you no guts, or are you a coward? You send your servants here! To my kingdom! Kill my wife! My friends! My citizens! I have heard your message loud and clear! I promise you this. . . I will find you just as my ancestors before me. I will destroy you, and this time it will be for good. You wanted a war. You now have one!"

Thaddeus finished his statement and ripped the sword from Lot's hands. He raised it high in the air, but as he was bringing it down a plea for mercy came. The plea, surprisingly enough, did not come from the Summoner, but from someone in his group.

"Please! Don't! This man is not himself. He is possessed. You have no idea what it is like to act against your will. Taking this man's life will solve nothing!" River exclaimed.

"She is right," Locmire added.

"And you know what it is like to act against your will, girl? Why don't you tell me what it is like then," the King replied.

At that moment, the man pulled free from Thaddeus's grip and hovered several feet in the air. His body was rigid, with outstretched arms and drawn together feet. A loud voice boomed from inside of the marionette like man.

"Foolish boy! Do you think your empty threats intimidate me? You are nothing! You are nowhere near the man Ryker was, and I am nowhere near the man I was when he defeated me! I am ten times the man I was! I am now a god! Hear me boy. You will not succeed. You will fail! You and your companions' days are numbered. Today was just a taste of the power that I now possess. No one can stop me. Soon this pathetic land will belong to me. All of its inhabitants will bow to me or lose their souls forever, just as this body has! I give you all a choice, for I am not an unforgiving god. Change your allegiance, join me, and I will make you more powerful than you could ever imagine. I will make you immortal, just as I am. Kill the Wizard and all will be forgiven. The choice is in your hands. Death . . . or life, through me?"

For a moment all was silent. The heroes stood still, the loud voice of Hasbarie still echoed through the lands. It was Red, once again, who broke the silence.

"Taint never seen a god who thanks so high of em self. Most gods ought'en be a lil more humble. Sounds like dis un got some self-esteem issues," Red chuckled.

"Fools! Your chance of salvation has eluded you. You shall not live to regret this decision," Hasbarie boomed as his voice exploded with rage.

At that moment the floating man exploded, creating a concussive force that sent the group flying across the square. All Lot could see was a white light, and a loud ringing polluted his ears. His vision slowly started to come back into focus. He rolled onto his stomach, got to his knees, and saw Thaddeus doing the same. He got to his feet and looked around. The rest of his group lay unconscious in the street.

"You alright?" Lot asked Thaddeus.

"Fine. You?" Thaddeus asked.

"Never been better," Lot replied.

Lot was taken aback by this civil conversation. These were the first non volatile words that he and his brother had ever exchanged.

"What in the gods' name?" Thaddeus called out.

Lot turned and looked behind him. The pieces of the Summoner that lay on the ground were starting to move. They came together like shards of metal to a magnet. The bloody pieces began to melt and flatten out. The mosaic of body parts suddenly went still. Thaddeus and Lot were now on their feet. Both of the warriors knew that something was amiss.

"Lot . . . now would be a good time to arm yourself," Thaddeus called as he cautiously picked up his axe from the ground.

Lot looked around and found his sword; the other remained on his side. Both warriors readied their weapons and moved close to one another. A loud shriek came from the bloody mess on the ground. Following the shriek, an oversized cleaver that was attached to a large decaying arm came rising up from the ground. A hulking creature pulled itself out from the portal that the scattered remains had made. It was massive, at least fifteen feet tall. Bits of rotten flesh dripped from its body; maggots and worms fell from the giant and clopped to the ground. The beast's eyes were black as night. Large bloody teeth lined its abnormally large mouth. Its body was oddly misshapen with pieces of rope, acting as sutures, holding each limb together, including its head to its neck. It held the six foot long cleaver down to its side, reared back, and let out a roar directed toward the two brothers. It drew back the cleaver and charged.

Lot and Thaddeus jumped apart as the beast came crashing between them. They counterattacked immediately. Thaddeus swung his axe with all his might, but the creature raised the cleaver and blocked the blow, sending Thaddeus sprawling backwards. Thaddeus leaned out of the way, barely escaping a powerful counter strike. Lot made two large slices in the foes back, but all that his blades managed to do was send more maggots spiraling to the ground. It turned on him, swinging its large weapon, determined to cut Lot in half. Lot ducked the initial attack and quickly darted backwards as another swipe came crashing down, narrowly avoiding becoming dissected. The three combatants battled fiercely. The creature was attacking with lumbering, but calculated strikes. Lot and Thaddeus weaved in and out of the life or death battle, often evading the deadly strikes by the skin of their teeth. They sliced away at the creature, but their efforts were futile. Nothing seemed to stop, or even slow, the hulking beast. A well timed swing of Thaddeus's dragon bone axe did manage to remove the creatures left arm, yet it still raged on.

"Thaddeus, I am running out of fight. We have to end this. Look for a weak point!"

"What do you think I have been doing for the past five minutes," Thaddeus replied sarcastically.

"For a rotten piece of flesh, this thing sure can take a beating. Any suggestions?" asked Lot as he avoided nearly being decapitated.

"Tear him limb from limb?" Thaddeus answered in a questioning manner.

"Sounds good. Shall we start with its other arm?" asked Lot.

Thaddeus nodded.

The two brothers went to work aiming all of their strikes at the rotting behemoth's right arm. Finally, another strike of Thaddeus's axe removed the remaining upper extremity of the creature. The cleaver tinged loudly as it hit the ground. The armless foe gave out a blood curdling scream and ran forward toward Lot, slime spewing from its teeth. Lot met the abomination head on, rushing toward the being. When impact was imminent, he fell to his knees on the blood soaked ground. With his swords outstretched, Lot slid between the beast's legs and lopped off both of the Frankenstein-like monsters feet above the ankles. The giant fell to the ground, but the fight had still not left from its body. The creature was trying to clamber up on its maggot infested stumps. Thaddeus came rushing in with another brutal blow of his axe, plunging it deep into the rotten skull of the fallen dark warrior. The tip of Lot's blade came protruding through the front of the creature's neck. His other blade landed hard on the side of its throat near a suture line. With a violent jerk of his right hand, and pull of his left, the large oval shaped head fell to the ground, freeing thousands of maggots and worms from their imprisonment. It was over. The creature was no more. Thaddeus and Lot both collapsed to the ground, exhausted from the battle. Both men were breathing heavily.

"Well," panted Lot, "good thing there wasn't more of those walking around the city earlier."

Thaddeus rose to his feet and loomed over Lot. "You fought well," he said.

"As did you," said Lot stretching out his hand for Thaddeus to help him up. The King considered him for a moment, but turned and walked away.

So much for brotherly love, thought Lot as he got to his feet and walked over to check on his other companions who were just now beginning to stir. Thaddeus helped Sebastian to his feet. Locmire knelt over River, who was lying on her back and propped up on her elbows. Caleb and Red stood over top of the fallen creature, admiring the horrific beauty of it. Other than a few minor bruises and scratches, it seemed that everyone would live.

# Chapter 10

# Getting Acquainted

Sebastian told Thaddeus, "I will do as you command," as he bowed to his King one final time before Thaddeus departed on his journey.

Thaddeus and his new comrades were mounted on their horses at the outskirts of Galdarath.

"I know you will, my old friend. That is why I have chosen to leave you in charge. You have my full authority to act as you see fit to secure the safety of our kingdom. You have lead Galdarath once before, and I am confident that you can do so again," said Thaddeus.

"Thank you, my King. I will not disappoint you," Sebastian replied.

"We must take leave. Take care, Sebastian. Remember, Galdarath must not fall. The future of our kingdom rides on your shoulders for now. I will send word to you when I can," said the King.

"Thaddeus," Sebastian muttered as the King began to turn and ride off, "I do not know if I can bear this burden."

"Sebastian, you were born to lead. It will be no different than leading an army into battle. The people of Galdarath trust and respect you, as do I. You will rise to greatness in my absence."

"Your faith in me lifts my spirits, my King. Thank you," Sebastian replied.

The King gave Sebastian a short, final nod. He turned his horse and goaded it forward by squeezing his heels and hips into its side. The group of riders tore off into the setting sun with the wind on their backs. They had much ground to cover and time was slowly fading away.

They had only traveled a league outside of Galdarath when the sun began to slowly sink out of sight behind the low lying clouds. They were at the intersection where the main roads met. One road led to Lasticall, the other toward Morgorath and Mt. Pizenchaffe. Locmire stopped his horse and waited for his party to assemble around him.

"We should stop and make camp for the night. It looks as if there is a large cave on our left. It should serve as satisfactory lodging," Locmire said.

"I agree. We should not be traveling at night. I fear these lands are not safe anymore," Thaddeus replied.

Locmire and Thaddeus veered off of the main road and made their way to the cave. The rest of the group had no disagreements with their decision. Next to Locmire, Thaddeus was the unspoken leader of the group. Although some of the heroes, Lot in particular, did not like the idea of Thaddeus being in charge, no objections were made, as he was a proven warrior with many great victories under his belt. Most of his victories he accomplished at a very young age, making his conquests all the more impressive. No one could argue the decisions of a modern day legend.

The crackling campfire emitted a warm rush of heat which slowly replaced the cold, damp air in the cave; its orange glow illuminated the entire dwelling. The travelers all huddled around the fire. Rest came easy to them, especially since Locmire had added protective spells at the mouth of the cave to keep out any unwanted visitors. It had been a long day, and a good night's sleep would be welcomed by all.

"Thaddeus and Lot, you two worked very well together in bringing down the Everafter. During the Great War, it often took as many as ten men to stop their endless barrage of attacks. It is a blessing that they are not plentiful," Locmire said as they casually sat around the fire speaking of the events that had taken place earlier that day.

"I have never, in all of my days, faced anything such as that. The rotting hunk of flesh just would not die," said Lot, shuffling his feet on the hard earth.

"It was a formidable enemy, until it met my axe," boasted Thaddeus.

"You mean, until its legs met the edge of my swords," said Lot.

River interjected quickly, "It does not matter whose weapon did the most damage. Neither of you would have been successful without the other. You both did very well," River said as she sat down beside Lot.

The orange glow from the fire really brings out her beauty, thought Lot.

"Thank you, River. Too bad the rest of you were not there to help us," Lot said.

"Harrrrr! But we wuddn't thar to help! We be layin on da groun wit are eyes rollin to da back of are heads like a bunch of lil girls. Some nasty spell dat thar man did, blowin up like dat. Me head still achin like me been to port for a few nights," Red said as he took a big swig of grog.

River laughed, "I have not the slightest clue as to what you just said."

This brought about laughter to the group, a reaction that had been sorely missed. The best thing about laughter was that it was contagious, and it did much good for weary souls.

"Today was a good day for us. There were no casualties in our group, we stopped the attack on Ravendale, and an Everafter was destroyed. Let us hope the future is as kind," said the Wizard as he added more wood to the fire.

Caleb finally asked, "Locmire?"

"Yes, Caleb," the Wizard answered.

"Why am I here? I know you told me about the prophecy and all, but why me? Why was I chosen for this?" the Shifter asked.

"I haven't the slightest idea, Caleb. I suppose it has something to do with your unique abilities. No one ever knows their complete destiny before it happens. Often, we do not know why it happens. We must accept that which we do not understand. From what we witnessed today, I am certain you are in the place destiny has willed you to be," said Locmire.

"Do you really believe if the Dark Wizard overtakes this land, he has a chance to do the same to mine?" Caleb questioned Locmire once more.

"I am not certain, but I feel that no world would be safe from him," said Locmire.

"I see. Well then, I willingly offer you my services, and I hope we succeed for the sake of your world . . . and mine," Caleb said with a slight look of despair in his eyes.

Thaddeus, who was now dressed in a pair of black breeches and a white tunic, lay sprawled out by the fire. He rested his head on his dirty leather carry bag. He looked up to Caleb and said, "Tell me of your land, Caleb. Do all of your people have the ability to turn themselves as you do?"

Caleb came closer to the fire and plopped down on his backside. Thaddeus noticed that River was sitting very close to his long lost brother. There was something about River that Thaddeus did not quite trust. What can it be? I do not like seeing Lot being so friendly toward her. Why should I care, though? Am I jealous? No, not jealous, he thought. Maybe, deep down, he was looking out for the well-being of his brother, criminal or not. Something about the beautiful Mage made him a slight bit uneasy. Yes, there was no doubt that Thaddeus thought she was beautiful, for he was not blind. He knew he must keep his eyes on this situation, but he noticed that Locmire was well ahead of him. Locmire and Thaddeus directed their attention back toward Caleb.

"I am the only one of my kind that I have ever met. My world is nothing like this. I am a rarity. The world I come from is dominated by Humans. There are no Engeniums, Brazurkins, or any of these things we killed earlier today. The worst threat to my people is themselves," Caleb said as he warmed his hands by the fire. "I do believe that Red is from the same world as me. I have heard of pirates before, just never saw one," he added.

"Arr, we be from da same world we are. Probably never seen a pirate bafore cause me be's da last of dem. Last pirate dat I know of went to Davy Jones' Locker nearly five years go. We be's a dyin breed."

"Thank goodness," said River as they all joined her in laughter once more.

Once the laughter subsided, Thaddeus addressed Caleb again.

"Your talents were very impressive on the battlefield today. Although I am taken aback by your gift, I was impressed nonetheless. Tell me of your Civil War and the part you played in it," said the King as he came to a seated position.

"Not much to tell really. Our country became divided between the northern and southern halves. The war was very bloody and very brutal, pitting families against one another. I joined the fight thinking it was the noble thing to do," Caleb paused.

"Was it?" asked the King.

"No, it wasn't. Once the generals of the South got wind of my ability, they came to me. Said they had me some very special missions, the kind of missions that only a man with my skill could perform. You know, a duty to my country. It started out small. Ambush a few traveling troops from the North, trying to thin their ranks. I would stalk their armies in the form of a panther. When an unlucky soldier would stray from the group, I would strike. Rumors quickly spread about the panther that stalked the North. I had to change my form when they placed a large bounty on panthers." Caleb stopped again as Lot spoke this time.

"And what form did you take next?" asked Lot.

"Many. The wolf, eagle, bear, snake, or any creature that I could turn into and be lethal. When I shift into a certain form, I take on the beast's properties. Eventually, my missions became more important. I began to assassinate the generals of the North. One general I took as he went to relieve himself behind his tent. My fangs tore his jugular vein and he was dead instantly. Another one I took in his tent as he slept. I slithered in and placed a well-aimed bite to his neck. My venom worked quickly. He was dead in a blink of an eye. No one even noticed that he had died until dawn," Caleb paused to get a sip of water.

Everyone was now listening intently to this grim bedtime story that Caleb was telling.

"What next?" asked River as she laid her head on Lot's shoulder.

Thaddeus snarled at this.

"Well, this went on for a few months. The South was coming close to winning the war. Even with all the extra protection and security measures, I was still able to infiltrate their camps and take out their important persons. Finally, the day came that I most feared. I got called to kill a general stationed just over the hill from us. He was my father. At first, I actually considered killing him. I knew that if he fell, the war would be over and all of my family would be safe. In the end, I just couldn't do it. I fled south and stayed hidden in a cave, disguised as a bear, for the remainder of the war. The war finally ended and the North had won. I went back to my old home and it immediately became evident that I was not welcome. My family shunned me for siding with the South. They never became aware of my special talent. After that, I spent several months in the forest living off of the land. That is when I discovered the cave which led to my arrival here. And here I sit, in a cave once more," Caleb finished.

Everyone let out a slight chuckle at his closing statement.

How sad, River thought to herself. This man was torn from his home by his country, and now he is in a strange world with no one. No one except the people he sits with now.

"War is like that. Even wars that are won sometimes feel lost. This is a new war you fight in, Caleb Hawks. A war not against fellow humanity, but against the darkest forces ever known. I ask that you put your past transgressions behind you. Do not hold back, do not tame your abilities. I feel that we will need them," said Thaddeus.

Caleb nodded.

Out of curiosity, the Cap'n asked, "What be da bigges critter ye ever go an look like."

Lot added, "And the smallest."

"Let me see. The smallest would have to have been a snake. The biggest would be the bear. It really hurts when I try and become too small or too large. Anything bigger, or smaller, makes me feel like I am being ripped apart. I can't handle it," the Shifter informed the group.

"An what happens to yer clothes? How come when ye shift back into a person, ye ain't runnin around stark neck-ud?" Red asked.

"I am not sure. They just transform with me. I have often wondered this myself," Caleb replied.

"How did you first learn of your talent?" Locmire asked.

"To tell you the truth, it was by accident. When I was eight years old, I was playing out in the woods alone. My favorite place to play was by the cliffs that overlooked the lake. One day I got too close to the edge of the cliff and I fell. As I was falling, a thought came into my mind. How nice it would be if I were a bird so I could fly. The next thing I know, I was soaring up into the clouds. When I finally overcame the fear of what was happening to me, I spent the rest of the day flying all over the countryside. Till this day, that remains my happiest memory."

They spent the next several minutes discussing Caleb's unique talent and his adventures in the animal kingdom. When conversation started to die down, Locmire addressed Lot.

"Lot, share with us your story. We have heard so very little from you. If you do not mind?" asked Locmire.

Lot sat upright, "It is the classic tale of a prince who was abandoned by his royal family and forced into a life of crime-." He was interrupted before he could finish his statement.

Thaddeus rose to his feet and his hands flashed to his swords, "You will watch your tongue when you speak of my family," said the King as he advanced on Lot.

Lot was on his feet in an instant, unsheathing his own steel.

"Do you not mean our family?" asked Lot.

"That is enough!" roared the Wizard.

The two brothers hesitated for a moment, sheathed their weapons and took their seats once more.

"You two really must learn to coexist," Locmire barked.

Thaddeus and Lot did not say a word. They sat motionless, eyes locked upon one another.

"Carry on with your story, Lot," Locmire said.

Thaddeus glared at Lot with a look of hate on his face. Lot returned the look with a smile.

"Anyway, I was brought up on the streets. My family was not wealthy, but we were not poor either. Although my parents did not work, we always seemed to have a little extra gold lying around to get us by. But the rest of my friends and extended family were not as fortunate," said Lot, pausing for a moment carefully thinking of his next words, not wanting to start another Civil War in the cave.

"When I was about fourteen, a stranger approached me on the street. He asked me if I wanted to make some money. I said sure. For my first job I was asked to steal a single apple from a nearby fruit stand, without being caught. I plotted my course of action for a few moments, and it came to me. As I approached the fruit stand I fell into it, sending produce rolling down the street. As the vendor scurried along picking up his goods and yelling profanities, I took a single apple. I returned it to the strange man, and my life was forever changed."

Caleb asked, "Did you not wonder why this man approached you? I mean, it is kind of strange that this man just showed up and offered you a job."

"Fools such as him do not take the time to think out such things," Thaddeus added.

"Maybe you are right, Brother," said Lot.

The look on Thaddeus's face when called brother was an easy expression to read; disgust.

"I was initiated into the local Thieves Guild. A man by the name of Caleus was my counselor. He trained me in the ways of the thief. He taught me the art of stealth, concealment, illusion, lock picking, pickpocketing and combat. I caught on rather quickly. Once out on my own, I began to steal from the wealthy. I would then fence my items for gold and distribute it amongst the slums where I lived. After a while, my loving brother put a bounty out on my head. So what did I do?" Lot gave Thaddeus a big, toothy grin. "I looted his castle."

At this turn of events, laughter erupted around the fire once more. Thaddeus, however, did not laugh. He gave Lot a despising look and wrenched the hilt of his sword in his thick hand.

Lot continued, "That was a very big score. The slums ate well for months. Eventually, I was apprehended. There were just too many people looking to cash in on the insanely large bounty that my head carried. Three months later, a Wizard and my brother show up to rescue me. And we all lived happily ever after."

River said, "Well, say what they want, but I think what you were doing was very noble. You did not rob for personal gain but to help those less fortunate. That is very admirable."

"ADMIRABLE!" Thaddeus exclaimed loudly. "NOBLE! How can you sit here and condone such behavior? I guess I could not expect much more from a little girl playing Wizard, could I?"

Rivers expression of happiness faded from her face and was replaced with that of fear. Her stomach jumped; it felt like she had just missed a step while walking down a flight of stairs. She had seen Thaddeus angry before, and she did not want to relive this horror again. Lot began to speak in her defense, but Locmire was already in motion. He quickly stepped in and diffused the situation. Thaddeus had heard enough for one night. He gathered his belongings and without saying a word, he turned, and went deeper back into the cave.

The others sat silently around the crackling campfire. The mood in the air had become very uncomfortable. Not even the Wizard seemed to find the right words to ease the tension. Luckily for them, Red never seemed to run out of things to say.

"Wizard," Red asked as he stood up. "Do ye tinks dis here armor me gots will make me looks outta place?"

Locmire chuckled and said, "I do not think it is the armor that makes you seem out of place, my friend."

The tension left the air and was replaced by that of mirth. Red fell back to the ground and let out a big sigh as he made himself comfortable, in typical Red fashion, by taking a ravenous swig of grog.

"Tell us about yourself, Red. I am sure you have plenty of tales," River said as she scooted closer to Lot. "I am very interested in you and your world."

"Hear dat," Red said as he pointed toward Lot. "She be inturested in me. Come on over eer an sit wit me," he said as he patted the ground beside of him.

River gave Lot a flirtatious grin and strode over to Red, sitting down beside him. He draped his arm around her and said, "So, ye wants ta hear a lil about me," he whipped his head back, flinging his ratty hair out of his eyes, "Whur ta begin?"

"How about telling us where you come from," River said.

"And you could tell us what a pirate is, exactly," Locmire added.

"Whur does me come from. Me hails from Englan. Thar be many bodies of land whur me an Caleb come from. Many different lands, and me traveled to em all. Me went as far as Africa to Norf America, to da Red Sea. Dat trip was calt da Pirate Round, and it twere very grueling. But me got lots of good booty," Red said as he took another swig of grog and let out a loud belch.

"Loot?" asked Locmire.

"Ye know what loot be's. Kinda like what Lot does, but pirates not be so sneaky about it. We just goes and takes what we wants. We sailed da seas in big ole ships. Offen, we got in battles on da sea wiff udder pirates, military, and trade ships dat we whur tryin ta pillage," Red said, taking another gulp of grog.

"So, pirates are actually thieves?" River asked.

"Ye could say dat. Or ye could call us opportunists. Me likes da sound of da ladder option bedder," Red replied.

"So you were very wealthy then?" Lot asked.

"Ha! Tweren't but a few pirates rich. Most of us cashed in are loot and went ta port. Spent all are gold on women, drink, an cards. Me had a little bit of gold stashed away, not much ta brag about doe," Red said as he shook his head. "Anyways, me sailed da seas many years. Me looted many ships, an plundered many villages. All dat earned me quite da reputation. A while back, da lands started crackin down on pirates. Places hung every pirate dey caught. Most of da udder pirates went inta hidin, but not me. Tweren't no ship, nor city, safe from me and me crew. After Blackbeard, one of da most famous pirates ever, got keel hauled, most pirates stopped plunderin and started livin like common folk. Loot was ripe for da pickin," Red paused for a moment, noticing that everyone was staring at him with a look of confusion on their faces.

"What did you do next?" asked Lot.

Red decided to have a little fun with his new friends.

"Well, afta a while me decided it was da time for me to become an elephant. I walked around in da desert most of me days. One day me decided ta turn inta a sloop and return to da sea. Me had fifty pirates ridin on me back, and thousands of barnacles on me belly. We were sailin in da sea off of Norf America when we gots caught in a bad storm and ended up on dis new land," Red stopped to see all of his new friends, except for Caleb, had a bewildered look upon their faces. Caleb was holding back a smile.

After a few seconds of silence, Locmire spoke. "I think we have gotten to know each other well enough for one night. I suggest we all turn in. We rise with the dawn. I will take first watch tonight. It has been a very wonderful evening."

"Aye aye," said Red.

The rest of the group got to their feet and went to their respected areas of the cave and readied themselves for bed. Red hung back for a moment. Thinking to himself, Red wondered, how can Locmire keep da watch? Blimey, how can he even see to gets aroun wiff dat hood always maskin his eyes? Red approached Locmire quietly as possible and slowly waved his hand in front of Locmire's face.

The Master Wizard smiled and said, "Red, may I help you?"

Red jumped back a step, startled, and said, "Nah, juss seein if, if uh . . . seein if uh . . . night."

Red hurried off to his quarters of the cave and began to get ready for bed.

Locmire sat at the mouth of the cave with a small grin on his face. As the time slowly passed, he started thinking about the trials that lay before them. His gut instinct was telling him that this was the group with which destiny had meant for him to push forward. The cave grew still, and the only sound audible enough to hear was the crackling of the dying fire. Well, the fire, and the loud honking snores coming from Red. There was still so much to be done. Locmire, however, could not wait until the next time they shared stories together. He thoroughly enjoyed this night and the opportunity to get to know his fellow travelers. This was the first time he had ever had the opportunity to sit down and speak with so many different personalities. It saddened him to know that it would be some time before they had the chance to do so again. He decided that the next time they were all together, he would share with them one of his own tales. Locmire was really enjoying his time spent with his new companions, no. . . . not companions, friends.

# Chapter 11

# Scream in the Night

Thaddeus did not sleep well. How could he? He could not stop reliving the horrible nightmare of his wedding day. He kept staring at the painting of Emilia that he had taken from the castle before he set out to save Calencia. Only a few hours had passed when he decided to go and take over the duty of lookout for Locmire. After all, the Wizard was rather old, and old men needed rest. Even though Locmire had seen many years come and go, Thaddeus knew the Wizard's age was deceiving. The old Wizard moved with the speed and nimbleness of a young man. There was a fountain of life running through his veins. Nonetheless, he decided he would not be getting any sleep tonight, and a little conversation might do him good.

Thaddeus got up and made his way to the mouth of the cave where Locmire was sitting. He was glad he had decided to relieve Locmire because it appeared that he had fallen asleep. He stalked his way over to the Wizard. For a large man, Thaddeus moved like a barefooted child walking over a bed of moss. The King prodded the Wizard with the toe of his boot and called his name, "Locmire."

Locmire quickly sprang to his feet.

"Oh my. . . I must have . . . I must have dozed off. The last few days have been very tiresome. Two nights have passed since I last slept. Looks like all is well though," said the sleepy Wizard.

"Yes, all looks well. You go ahead and get some rest. I will take watch. I am having trouble finding sleep myself," replied Thaddeus.

"I assumed you would. Stay strong, time heals all wounds. It is hard to imagine this, but even though you lost your Queen, you have gained a brother," Locmire said sympathetically.

Thaddeus slowly nodded his head. "Ah, my beloved brother. How lucky I am. I lost the only woman that I had ever loved and gained a brother that I truly despise," Thaddeus said begrudgingly.

"Thaddeus, he is your brother. You must accept that. I would not be so harsh on him until you really know what it was like to live his life," said Locmire.

This seemed to strike a chord with the brother who had lived the life of royalty.

"But I do not know, nor will I ever know what it was like to be him. Is that any fault of my own?" asked Thaddeus.

"Consider this. Lot was taken from his true family at birth. He lived in the slums. He was not afforded the luxuries that you were. He saw pain and suffering all of his days. Destined to be no greater than a grunt laborer, he dreamed of the magnificent castle that stood in the center of the city, wondering what life must be like there. When offered an opportunity, an opportunity that he used to help so many families who were in need, he took it. While not the most honest of livings, he used his new career to change the lives of those around him. The only parents he knew died when he was a teenager. Who else did he have? Only the new family who manipulated him into the man he is today. Under such circumstances, I do believe that your brother turned out to be quite the man," Locmire finished.

Thaddeus stared blankly out into the starry night.

"Your father loved your brother deeply. He kept constant check on Lot. He provided his family with all they ever needed, without making it too conspicuous. If your father loved him so much, maybe one day you can do the same. It is not your fault that you do not have the same feelings toward him. How could you? He is the total opposite of all you have ever known as moral and just. Think about it, Thaddeus. Each other is all either of you have left. Why throw that away?" Locmire said as he began to walk away.

"How do you know all of these things, Wizard? How do you know of the relationship between my father and my criminal of a brother?" asked the King.

"I know much, Thaddeus Graystone. It is my job to know," replied Locmire.

Thaddeus began to speak again but was interrupted. From somewhere out in the darkness a loud, blood curdling scream ripped through the night. The hair stood on the back of Thaddeus's neck. He knew this scream. It was the type of scream that a person issues before they meet a horrible death. The cry was loud enough to wake the other occupants of the cave.

"What be's goin on? Who be's da one who screamin like dey got a foot stuck in Davy Jones' Locker?" Red asked as he ran to the entrance to the cave.

"Grab your weapons," demanded Thaddeus.

Lot and Caleb came running to them. Lot had his swords on his side and Thaddeus's axe in his hand. He tossed the large double edged axe to Thaddeus and asked, "Where is River?"

"She is not in the cave?" asked Locmire.

"No. She is not here. We thought she was out here with the two of you," said Lot.

"We must go now!" Caleb exclaimed.

Another agonizing scream echoed through the darkness as the group sprinted from the cave with their weapons drawn. They ran blindly into the night. Locmire was in the lead with a bright light shining from the end of his staff, but they were moving too fast for it to serve its purpose.

Caleb ran ahead of the rest of the group and yelled, "Keep looking," as he jumped into the air and transformed into an owl.

Soaring high above the trees, Caleb glided through the air using his keen vision to search the countryside. He scanned the land frantically. He started to worry that he would not be able to find River, but he finally saw her. Chills ran throughout his body and seemed to almost shake the feathers free from his wings. He dived to the ground where his friends desperately searched for their lost companion.

"I found her and she looks to be injured badly. Follow me," Caleb said with panic in his voice.

He led the way toward their lost party member. He was tearing through bushes and thickets, not slowing down for anything. They topped over a small hill and suddenly stopped as a blood drenched figure came stumbling into sight.

"River!" Lot cried.

He sprinted to her, arriving not a moment too soon as she collapsed into his arms. She was covered in blood. Her hair was matted together with the thick, dark liquid. Even though she was only moments ago on her feet and breathing, she now seemed lifeless. Her eyes were empty.

"River! What happened? River! Answer me!" Lot demanded.

Locmire and the rest of the group gathered closely around them.

"Where is she wounded?" asked Thaddeus.

"Lay her on the ground. We must determine the extent of her injuries," Locmire said as he planted his staff into the ground, acting as a torch.

Lot laid River down on the dew covered grass. He quickly inspected her anterior body, flipped her over, and looked at her posterior.

"Nothing. There are no wounds," Lot said with bewilderment in his eyes.

"This is not her blood," Thaddeus stated.

"Iffn it not be hers, den whose it be?" asked Red.

"Caleb, can you search this area again and see if you can find anyone else?" asked Locmire.

Caleb nodded and flew off into the darkness.

"What is wrong with her?" asked Lot.

"She seems scared, paralyzed by the fear of whatever has happened to her tonight," replied Locmire.

"How did she even get out of the cave without anyone noticing her?" asked Lot.

Before Locmire could answer, Thaddeus knelt down beside her and delivered a solid slap across her cheek. She came back into the world immediately, screaming and flailing on the ground as a fish out of water.

"It's all right, it's all right. You are safe. River, it will be all right," Lot pleaded.

Locmire raised his staff and said, "Stand back."

The party stepped away. Locmire aimed his staff at River, and a loud swoosh came from its end, drenching River with water. The blood was gone, but she began screaming uncontrollably again.

"Calm down me beauty. It gonna be all right. Ye safe wit us," said Red.

River was still screaming and clawing at the ground trying to escape Lot's embrace.

"RIVER!" Thaddeus yelled. She immediately became still at the sound of his stern voice. "You are safe. It is over."

River almost instantly calmed down. Her eyes began to focus on the world around her. Although she was still not her usual self, she seemed to have gotten a grasp back on reality.

"We must go back to the cave. We do not know what is lurking in the darkness," Locmire said.

They began their walk back to the cave. River was cradled securely in Lot's arms. As they departed, not even Caleb, who had now taken the form of a wolf, heard the sounds of the low gurgling of blood coming from a man and woman lying on the other side of the hill, breathing their last breaths.

Once they were back in the cave, Lot sat River next to the fire. Caleb covered her shoulders with a tattered blanket, and Red gave her a swig of grog.

"River, can you tell us what happened to you tonight?" Locmire asked.

"I . . . I . . . I do not know. I woke up outside covered in blood," she replied.

"Where did the blood come from?" asked Thaddeus.

"I do not know," she replied once more.

"Are you hurt? Is anything wrong?" asked Lot.

"No, nothing is wrong. I feel fine for the most part, just a little shaken" she said as she took another swig of grog.

"River, I must ask you," Locmire began. River turned and gave him her utmost attention. "Is there anything you need to tell me?"

"She has told you all she knows," said the Thief.

"Let her answer the question," Thaddeus interjected.

"I have told you all I know, Locmire," answered the Mage.

"I am not speaking of tonight's events," replied the Wizard.

"Oh," she paused, looking shocked by Locmire's question. Untruthfully, she answered, "There is nothing that I can think of."

"Very well. It is time for us to turn in once again. Thaddeus, will you take watch?" asked the tired old Wizard.

"Yes," replied the King.

"I suggest we all get some rest. It will be dawn soon," said Locmire.

The party lumbered off into the cave. They all were extremely tired from the great battle that took place earlier in the day. As they come to the sleeping area of the cave, River took Lot's wrist and pulled him back to her as he walked by.

"Lot?" she said questioningly.

"Yes," he replied.

"Will you lay next to me tonight? I am scared, and I would feel much better if you were close to me."

Lot's face turned a slight shade of red. "If you desire," he replied.

River smiled at Lot and curled up in her makeshift bed. Lot went to his sleeping area and gathered his things.

"Arrr, the grog get em loosen up every time," Red whispered as he passed by.

"Watch your tongue!" snapped Lot.

Red strode off bellowing out with laughter.

Lot slipped under the covers in the makeshift bed next to River. He kept a comfortable distance between them. As he made himself comfortable, he felt her warm body press close to his. River fell immediately into a deep sleep. Lot closed his eyes and slumber overtook him as well.

# Chapter 12

# Departure

The group rose bright and early with the sun. Everyone seemed to be doing well, considering the events of the previous night. River seemed to be her old self, but she still had no recollection of what happened to her the night before. Thaddeus, as well as Lot, had gotten up just before dawn. They both had their horses saddled and gear secured into place. Caleb was helping Locmire saddle his horse. Everyone, except for Caleb, had their own mount. When the time came to leave, Caleb would take the shape of whatever animal he deemed most appropriate.

Everyone was ready to depart, well, almost everyone. Red, however, was still fast asleep. At one point he seemed to be dead, until a thunderous snore came erupting from deep within him, letting everyone know he was well. His slumber did not last long. Locmire stood over him with his staff in hand. He pointed his staff at the sleepy Pirate, and a wave of water flew from its end, drenching Red.

Red was up in a flash screaming, "Abandon ship! We be sinkin! Abandon ship!"

Everyone laughed uncontrollably. They closed up camp and traveled back to the intersection where an important decision awaited them.

"From here we must part ways for a short time," said Locmire.

"What? No! We can't!" exclaimed River.

"Why would we be wantin to go an do sumpin as foolish as dat? Dey be strenff in numbers," said Red.

"We have much work to do and so little time. This will be the quickest way to recruit the rest of our group," replied Locmire.

"Agreed," Lot said as he took a drink of water from his flask. "But first we must know where we are going, and who will be traveling together."

"Is it not obvious," Thaddeus said in a belittling manner. "One group will be going to Lasticall and Dead Marsh, another to Morgorath and Mt. Pizenchaffe."

"Why would any of us go to Pizenchaffe?" asked River.

"To find our new companion, of course," replied Lot.

"A Dainty?" River stated in a questioning manner. "I had come to believe that they no longer existed."

"Just because something is not seen, does not mean that it doesn't exist," replied the King.

"Correct, Thaddeus. You are mostly accurate on our destination and purpose, but one group will travel only to Lasticall. The other will go to Morgorath and Pizenchaffe, and then we will regroup near Dead Marsh," said Locmire.

"I shall go to Lasticall. I am on good terms with the Sestian of Lasticall, Azonis Ferrini. He will listen to what I have to say," said Thaddeus.

"I wish to travel to Pizenchaffe. It has been years since I have entered underneath the mountain," said Lot.

"You have been inside of Mt. Pizenchaffe?" asked River.

"There are not many places on Calencia that I have not conducted business," replied the Thief with a grin.

River's eyes grew with excitement.

"You mean stolen from. Do you not?" Thaddeus asked.

"Yes, brother. That is exactly what I meant," Lot said sarcastically.

"Very well, Thaddeus. You will lead one group to Lasticall. You are to have Azonis Ferrini and Rasmere Elmidas, a Forest Engenium, join our cause. Lot and I will lead the other group to Pizenchaffe and Morgorath. Red will travel with us. River and Caleb, you will go with Thaddeus," Locmire said as he rode over next to Lot.

"I want to go to Pizenchaffe with you and Lot," demanded River.

"I do not think that is a good idea, River. Thaddeus and Caleb may need the presence of a spell caster on their journey. You will go with them," said Locmire firmly.

River nodded her head, silenced her protests, and rode over next to Thaddeus.

"When and where will we meet?" asked Caleb.

"Take this," said Locmire.

He gave Thaddeus a few small blue stones. Their edges were very smooth and cold to the touch.

"What is it?" asked Thaddeus.

"They are portation stones. I have some as well. As long as you hold a stone and your party is nearby, it will transport you and your companions to whatever location you set your mind on, as long as there is another stone there."

"It can transport us to another location? How long does it take to get us from one point to another?" asked Caleb.

"You will arrive at your destination instantaneously. I have already placed a stone near Galdarath. I will place another at Pizenchaffe, as well as Morgorath. When you depart from Lasticall leave one behind there also. Once you leave Lasticall set up camp near Dead Marsh and wait for our return. I am not for certain, but I believe that you will finish your task long before us," said Locmire.

"Understood," said Thaddeus.

"Keep in mind that this is not the most pleasant way to travel, but it is bearable," said Locmire.

Thaddeus nodded and said, "I would not suspect such magic would be pleasant."

"Well, it is time for us to part ways. I wish you luck. Be cautious, for I fear there will be many dangers in your path," said the Wizard.

"You do the same," replied Thaddeus.

The group said their brief goodbyes and then split up. Thaddeus, River, and Caleb headed south to Lasticall. Locmire, Lot, and Red headed west to Pizenchaffe.

# Chapter 13

# The Boar

Rasmere Elmidas sternly whispered, "I said to be still!"

It was just moments before dawn, and a thick blanket of fog had begun to set in the valley. A crisp wind blew through the woods. The hunting party was perched on an embankment with their bows ready. For the most part, they were like stones, silent and still. They had gathered in the forest this morning in search of a killer, a killer who had evaded judgment many times and taken many lives with him in the process. The Sestian, Azonis Ferrini, decided that something must be done to stop this savage that terrorized the forest. The severity of this situation became clearly evident with the involvement of Rasmere Elmidas, the Sword of the Sestian. Rasmere was too important to be burdened with matters of little importance.

Rasmere was a slender Forest Engenium who wore chocolate brown fur clothing. The arms of his top had been removed to allow for faster drawing of his bow. His fur boots were fastened securely around his matching fur pants. Rasmere was one of the last Forest Engeniums who clung to the old ways. Since the end of the Engenium War, the Forest Engeniums were accepted as equals, well, a little more equally than before, amongst the High Engeniums. Rasmere held tightly to the old ways, proudly sporting his clean shaven head and numerous bright green facial tattoos. Most of the High Engeniums despised him for this outward display of disrespect toward them. As much as they despised him, they equally respected him, for he had accomplished many great tasks as the Sword of the Sestian.

Rasmere carried a golden sword of High Engenium make, which was given to him by Azonis when he was promoted. He had also been offered a set of matching golden armor, which he refused. The golden sword was exquisite, and its razor sharp edge had been quite useful in getting him out of many life or death situations. It was a fine tool of war, but his most prized possession was the Bow of Elmidas. The Bow of Elmidas had been handed down throughout the existence of his family. Now that he was the last living member of the Elmidas bloodline, it belonged to him. The particular trait that set this bow apart from others was the fact that it did not require arrows. Once the bow was drawn to full length, an opas wood arrow would appear, ready to soar. The bow had and infinite supply of magical arrows, erasing the need to carry a bulky quiver.

As Sword of the Sestian, Rasmere had many duties. He had accepted the position with high hopes that he would be able to become a voice for his people. So far, that goal had not been accomplished. He was, as his title stated, the Sword of Azonis Ferrini. When the Sestian willed something done, Rasmere would see it through. Azonis did not like to get his hands dirty, except in battle, which consequently kept Rasmere very busy. Azonis liked to rule from his throne. He detested the hands-on approach of ruling that he sometimes could not avoid. Although Azonis did not favor performing the meaningless duties of a ruler, he was a proven warrior of many battles.

"It is just a boar. We have killed many boars. You act as if we are hunting a Gargantuan," said a snotty High Engenium.

"We?" Rasmere questioned snidely. "Just how many boars have you killed?"

"You know what I mean," responded the High Engenium angrily.

"You do not see this boar as a threat? Tell that to the forty-three Engeniums that are dead due to this beasts attacks. Twelve of them were the best hunters in our kingdom," Rasmere said with a threatening eye.

"All I am saying is that I do-." A loud noise silenced his words. Below them, a loud rustling sound came from within a laurel thicket. The disturbance was drawing nearer and nearer.

"Ready yourselves," Rasmere said in a low voice as he drew his bow. An opas arrow magically appeared attached to the string and rested upon his finger, ready to fire.

The hunters drew their bows and nervously waited. A loud squeal came from within the laurel thicket, followed by a large boar with 38 inch long tusks. It came stampeding out of the wooded cover, running full speed toward the slope that led directly up to where the hunters laid in wait. Before anyone could fling a single arrow, the beast fell face first into the forest floor, flipping and squealing at the top of its lungs. It became silent; a single opas arrow waved in the air from out of the beast's eye socket.

"Wow! You killed it. You shot it before anyone else was even able to take aim!" said a delighted High Engenium.

"So, this is the dangerous killer that we have been hunting?" asked the arrogant High Engenium as he slid down the bank to take a closer look. He boasted again, "This beast does not look so dangerous to me," prodding it with his sword.

A deeper, louder, squeal materialized from within the laurel thicket. The ground shook from its cry.

"That is because the beast before you is only a baby," Rasmere said as he drew back his bow once more.

The High Engenium froze; the squealing caused the hair on the back of his neck to stand. He looked behind him as loud, earth shattering hoof beats bore down upon him. A boar, larger than any other animal in the forest, came barreling toward him. He could not move. His feet had become as heavy as boulders. The gigantic beast lowered its head to the ground and with one erratic jerk of its neck, the High Engenium was impaled through his stomach by a tree-like tusk. The boar swung his head back and forth, ferociously trying to dislodge the limp body from its tusk. Finally, the High Engenium went flying through the air and crashed to the ground with a sickening thud. He became number forty-four. Quickly the boar turned toward the slope leading up to Rasmere and the hunters. It let out a chilling squeal and charged fearlessly at them, like a warrior heading into battle or a parent who had just witnessed the murder of their child. The hunters scattered, fearing for their lives. The large hog tore after them, trampling and goring all in its path.

Rasmere did not move from his position. He followed the rampaging beast back and forth with the Bow of Elmidas drawn at full length, waiting for an opening to take the beast down. Rasmere patiently waited for a shot while the boar battered its way through the hunters. At one particular moment the mighty beast had three Engeniums impaled, like treats on a kabob, from its tusk.

The inevitable moment arrived. The killer hog turned its attention to Rasmere. Bobbing and weaving its way through cover, the boar scrambled up the slope. Rasmere continued to hold his ground with the Bow of Elmidas still drawn. The ravenous beast was only feet away from Rasmere; he could see directly into the eyes of the killer. Rasmere squinted one eye and released the string that was held by the tips of his fingers. The boar let out a glass shattering shriek, shaking its head violently. Blood spew from the hog's large head. Its coarse black hair dripped with a sanguineous fluid, but the injured creature kept charging toward its attacker. Rasmere drew the string of his bow once again and readied another shot. He let another arrow fly, striking the beast in the front of the neck. He followed this shot with three more, in unbelievably quick succession. The boar's front legs spread apart and it sprawled to the ground. It fell only inches away from the feet of Rasmere Elmidas. The beast would never take the life of another Engenium.

Cheers erupted from the remaining survivors. A few hunters were uninjured, a few trampled or maimed, but most were dead. The hunters surrounded the fallen swine pumping their bows in the air. Rasmere was receiving congratulations and pats on the back. The boar was massive. It weighed well over three thousand pounds. Bits of flesh hung from its tusks, each over fifteen feet long. The hunters were loading the boar up on a makeshift stretcher and trying to decide how they were to bring the heavy beast back to Lasticall. Rasmere was looking over the bloody battlefield when an eerie feeling came over him; something was not right.

"Engeniums," Rasmere said in a whisper. No one seemed to hear him. He made himself louder, "Engeniums!" They all turned to him.

"Ready yourselves," he said.

"For what?" a Forest Engenium asked.

Before he could answer, a hole opened in the forest floor. A thick, black mist came leaking out. Two hands came out of the hole, and a decayed corpse began to ascend from the dark pit. As soon as the corrupt head poked up from the ground an opas arrow sent it falling back into the depths. Creatures began to pour out from the dark abyss in unbelievable numbers, but none were able to make it entirely to the surface. The Engeniums were bombarding them with well-placed shots from their bows. The quicker the abominations tried to climb out, the faster the Engeniums shot.

"Look!" cried a Forest Engenium, as three more holes opened up.

A loud roar echoed from within the first hole. An arm, the size of a tree trunk, came erupting from the ground, followed by its other arm. Then two large spiraled horns on top of a horrendous head rose from the pit.

"It. . . It is some sort of Woggen, but none like I have ever seen before!" cried another Engenium.

The Woggen's large triangular head was lined with razor sharp teeth and two big red eyes sat in the middle. Long, black, stringy hair covered its enormous body. The beast stood a good thirty feet tall, twice the size of a normal Woggen. Five, three foot long claws were attached to the end of each of its fingers. The smell of rotten flesh was overwhelming. This was a beast unlike any other Rasmere had ever seen; by the looks of it, it seemed to have long been dead. An unsettling feeling overtook him, one that he had never felt before . . . fear.

"Retreat back to Lasticall!" Rasmere cried.

The party fled back toward the kingdom with the dark creatures trailing closely behind them. The Engeniums, being very familiar with the forest, put distance between them and their pursuers in the thick woods. Occasionally a brave Engenium would stop, for a moment, to fling an arrow at their attackers. Within moments of stopping they would be overtaken and smashed into a bloody, jelly-like substance by the Woggen.

Rasmere knew that he must survive. He had to reach the city of Lasticall and warn them. If he could just get there in time they could raise the bridges, lower the gates, and possibly hold off this attack.

# Chapter 14

# The Road to Mt. Pizenchaffe

Locmire, Lot, and Red rode along the main road toward Morgorath.. The road was well kept and free of danger. Guards from Galdarath patrolled the road constantly, keeping away any bandits or wild animals that may seek to ambush an unsuspecting traveler. While on the road, the three heroes passed by many travelers and wandering salesmen, who tried to unload their goods upon them.

The sun poked through the white, fluffy clouds. Signs of wildlife were abundant in this area. Many rabbits, deer, wild hogs, and other commonly known animals crossed their path. The peaceful songs of several different variants of birds filled their ears. The travelers that they encountered were just as pleasant as the countryside. Everyone they came across on the road was very friendly, often times heartily greeting them as they passed. They came across many small villages and encampments along the way. There were several dwellings near the banks of Lake Ormavon, not to mention the countless number of windmills. Farmlands stretched for as far as the eye could see. It was some of the most beautiful country that Locmire had ever laid eyes upon.

"So, deez Dainties be believed ta be dead? No one seen one since da big war?" asked Red.

"Yes, Red. That is correct. During the war both male and female Dainties partook in the battle. Even their younglings took to the field of battle. Every last one of them was thought to have been killed in the encounter with Hasbarie and his forces. But not all of them died, some remained hidden underneath the mountain, as they did so many years before," answered Locmire.

"An ye sure dey still thar?" asked Red.

"Yes, I am sure," replied Locmire.

"An ye say dey be fond of da drink?" Red asked, with a look of lust in his eyes.

"Yes, Red. They are very fond of the drink, and it has been rumored that they have the best drink in all of Calencia," Locmire said.

"How do you understand a single word that he is saying?" asked Lot.

"His language will grow on you," replied the old man.

"Ye thanks me talks funny, do ye?" asked the Cap'n.

"Yes, yes I do," Lot replied.

"Well den, me thanks ye talks funny too," rebutted the Pirate.

Lot, with a grin on his face, just shook his head as the three rode onward.

It had been only a few hours since the group had parted ways, but it felt like ages. Locmire wondered how Thaddeus and his group were faring. It would be a day's ride or more until they would arrive at Mt. Pizenchaffe. The dealings with the Daintish King should go smooth enough. The Dainties always showed great respect for the Wizards and vice versa.

"I can get us into the mountain. Are you certain that you know who we are looking for?" asked Lot.

"Yes, I am certain. His name is Oggius Stonefist. He is the King of the Dainties," replied Locmire.

"What is it with all of these kings? Do we not have enough personality as it is?" asked Lot, undoubtedly making a reference to his brother.

"You must remember, the first Saviors were all kings. It is natural that the last of their bloodline will be of royalty as well," said the Master Wizard with a grin.

"I suppose I should just leave now, for I am no king," Lot replied with sarcasm in his voice.

"If I am not mistaken, you also share a royal bloodline. You are next in line to inherit the throne of Galdarath if something should ever happen to your brother," said Locmire.

"You do not have to remind me," Lot choked out.

"What do deez Daintish wenches look like?" Red asked, as he pulled out his pistol and dropped a vulture beside the road.

"Why not just announce to the whole world that we are coming!" exclaimed Lot.

"Me hates dem vultures. Always sittin round waitin to pick da flesh from yer bones if ye have a mishap," replied Red.

"Well, what if that particular bird had been someone we know?" asked Lot, making an obvious reference to the Shifter of their group.

"Well. . . me reckons da next time he be takin shape of sumpin else," said Red.

Locmire suddenly stopped and Red immediately drew his steel. He had learned from previous experience that whenever Locmire stopped like he just had, it was usually a sign of trouble.

Lot asked, "What is it?"

"Up ahead, coming down the road," Locmire replied as he pointed ahead of them.

"I do not see anything coming our way," said Lot as he squinted his eyes against the blazing sun. "What is it that you see?"

"Aye, da old man gots him a set of peepers like a hawk. Never doubt em," said Red as he pulled his telescope from his side and peered into the distance. "Me don't know who or what it be, but it be purdy big."

The riders held fast in the road. Lot finally saw what it was that had Locmire worried. A very large figure was bounding down the road, and it was headed right toward them.

# Chapter 15

# The Bridge

The trip to Lasticall was very uneventful for Thaddeus and his colorful group of heroes, allowing them to make very good time. It had only taken them a few hours to reach the borders of the Engenium Kingdom. At one point they did come upon a small band of outlaws who were hidden on the side of the road, undoubtedly waiting to ambush the first unsuspecting traveler that came their way. The road to Lasticall was a bandit's dream. Each side of the road was surrounded by very old, very large trees. Thick underbrush filled the gaps between the trees, making it almost impossible to see anything on either side of the road. Guards did not patrol this road; it was too dangerous. When the bandits saw the large rider dressed in his white and gold armor, they quickly backed away and made themselves invisible amongst the trees. Thaddeus, perceptive as he was, had seen the bandits, but he decided that he did not have time to investigate the situation. They rode on, but Thaddeus kept out a watchful eye for any more dangers that may be lurking mere feet off the side of the road.

"We will be arriving at the bridge which leads into Lasticall momentarily," said Thaddeus.

"The quicker we get this done the better. I want to meet back up with the rest of the group," stated River.

Thaddeus pulled back the reigns of his horse and quickly turned to her and asked, "Why? Why are you in such a hurry to meet back up with the others? Does it have anything to do with Lot?"

"No," River replied. "I just feel safer when the whole group is together."

"River, have you not seen Thaddeus in action? I believe we are rather safe," chimed Caleb.

"That is not the real reason she wishes to regroup with the others. She wishes to see Lot again. Tell me, what are your intentions with my dear brother?" the King asked condescendingly.

"My intentions are none of your business, my King, but if you must know. . . I fancy your brother. I think he is a great man. Much greater of a man than you realize," she said as her face flushed red. "Not to mention that he is very handsome."

"I still do not see why everyone thinks so highly of him. He is a thief," Thaddeus replied.

"He has only stolen to help the ones around him, Thaddeus. It is not like he was taking from the poor," Caleb added.

Thaddeus slowed his horse and looked deep into Caleb's eyes. Caleb could see the rage, like a hot kettle of water, coming to a boil inside of Thaddeus.

"So, it makes it perfectly justifiable for someone to rob from people who are wealthy? It makes it perfectly acceptable for a thief to come into my castle, and take an item from my home, an item that held great sentimental value to me? Is that what you are saying?" Thaddeus asked commandingly.

"No, that is not what I am saying. All I am saying is maybe he is not as bad as you believe him to be. If everyone is willing to forgive his transgressions, why are you having so much trouble doing the same?" asked Caleb.

"I think you two should try and get along. All either of you have left is each other. You have both wasted part of your lives not knowing or caring for one another. It would be a shame to spend the remainder of your days the same," added River.

Thaddeus prodded his horse along once more. Maybe they are right. Maybe when I meet with Lot again, if we met again, I will sit down and speak with him. What would it hurt to get to know my brother a little better? I am sure Lot has questions to ask of me, as I do of him. Can I hold my temper during the conversation though? That would be the biggest barrier. And where has my temper come from lately? I am generally not this hot headed. If only Emilia were here. She could always seem to calm me down in times of stress. I miss her so much. I still cannot believe that she is gone. Hasbarie will pay for what he has done. I can promise him that much. A single tear rolled down Thaddeus's cheek as they approached a bottomless ravine crossing the road.

Normally, a bridge was let down across the ravine which almost totally surrounded the city of Lasticall. Thaddeus could not imagine why the bridge was drawn. During his numerous trips to Lasticall he had never known of the bridge to be raised as it was today. This could only point to one thing: trouble has knocked on the gates of Lasticall.

"Hello? It is I, King Thaddeus from Galdarath. Lower your bridge. I seek the council of the Sestian, Azonis Ferrini," Thaddeus shouted toward the large wall that surrounded the city of Lasticall.

He received no answer.

# Chapter 16

# Azonis Ferrini

The Sestian of Lasticall, Azonis Ferrini, sat on his golden, high back throne impatiently waiting the return of his Sword, Rasmere Elmidas.

Azonis was tall, as were most High Engeniums. His long chin jutted several inches past the rest of his face. His long, silver hair was pulled tight behind his head in four plaits. Azonis looked amazingly young for an Engenium of one hundred and fifty years. Only a few battle scars marked his otherwise unblemished face. He wore the traditional golden armor of the High Engenium Sestians. A golden sword hung on his side; a matching shield was propped up beside the throne.

Although Azonis was well groomed, and beautiful, he was a battle hardened warrior. His most notable achievement of military prowess came after he triumphed in a bloody war with a tribe of Hoggins, the same tribe that had destroyed the Groots many years ago. The Hoggins made a grave mistake when they invaded the forests surrounding Lasticall. On the day of the battle, over one thousand Hoggins met their end at the points of the Engeniums' golden swords. Azonis Ferrini and Rasmere Elmidas led the High Engeniums into battle; the Forest Engeniums were not allowed to fight in the army of Lasticall. The Hoggins were a vicious, nasty little race who terrorized many villages and settlements in the Free Lands. Once they claimed the forest as their new home, the only way to persuade them to leave was by force.

A Hoggin was a tiny, vile creature that stood about two feet tall. Their skin was a bright yellow. They had long, floppy ears and a mouth full of razor sharp teeth. The Hoggins came to battle armed with spears and spiked clubs. While their size did not pose much of a threat, their overwhelming numbers did. It seemed that the Hoggins favorite thing to do was to declare war and to reproduce. They constantly roamed Calencia in search of a permanent home. They had once before staked a claim in the forests surrounding Lasticall, destroying the Groots in the process. The only thing that stood in the way of them claiming the forest as their own was the Engeniums. The Hoggins, for a time, feared the Engeniums. It took them many years to muster up enough courage to begin their assault on Lasticall.

The Hoggin warriors, numerous as they were, proved no match for the much larger Engeniums. The battle, which lasted for a mere two hours, came to an early end when Azonis slew the Hoggin King, Ou-Tark. Ou-Tark was very well known throughout Calencia as a blood thirsty savage. A great number of warriors met their fate after coming face to face with the Hoggin King. He was three times the size of a normal Hoggin, which made him about six feet tall. He wielded two spiked opas clubs. He was a machine bred for battle. When Azonis Ferrini came face to face with the Hoggin King, Ou-Tark, he methodically picked the King apart with his golden long sword. After a ten second encounter with Azonis Ferrini, Ou-Tark would never again terrorize another living soul. After the Hoggin King had been destroyed by the Sestian, the few surviving Hoggins retreated into the Dead Lands. It has been told that Azonis and Rasmere killed over three hundred Hoggins-each.

Azonis was the last remaining member of the Ferrini bloodline. The last of his kin, his sister, had fallen victim a week earlier to the large boar that had been terrorizing the forest. The boar had now made things personal, but Azonis was confident that vengeance would soon be his since he had assigned Rasmere Elmidas to the task of destroying the beast, after so many others had failed him.

Rasmere was the most skilled Engenium in his service. He had been awarded the position of Sword to the Sestian after he won the Tournament of the Decade, which was held solely to determine Azonis's new Sword. Azonis never thought that a Forest Engenium would have the nerve to enter the tournament, much less more win it, but the test was open to all. Before the tournament, Rasmere was not well known, outside of the forest. Although a few High Engeniums had taken note of the defiant tattoos inked upon his head. After the tournament, he was the most revered warrior in the entire kingdom. He was the most skilled combatant that Azonis had ever seen, and his skill with the sword was just as impressive. The Sestian was apprehensive about awarding Rasmere the position of Sword, but he knew that if he did not honor his commitment, it could have resulted in another revolt by the Forest Engeniums. Since becoming Sword, Rasmere had never failed the Sestian, and Azonis was confident that Rasmere would stop the beast that was on a murderous rampage in the forest. After Rasmere's spectacular performance in the tournament twenty years ago, Azonis believed him capable of anything. He could vividly remember the first time he ever laid eyes upon Rasmere.

The Tournament of the Decade

"Are the preparations complete?" Azonis asked.

"Yes, my Lord. Everything is all set," Tontal, the royal advisor, replied.

"Were you able to procure the beasts I asked for?" Azonis asked.

"Every last one of them," Tontal boasted proudly.

"Excellent. This will be the most amazing event to ever take place in Lasticall," Azonis said as he stood on his balcony overlooking the city.

"Are you sure you are going to guarantee the victor the position of your Sword?" Tontal asked.

"I need a new Sword, do I not?" the Sestian asked.

"Yes, my Lord," Tontal replied.

"Then who better to fill that role than the best warrior in the kingdom?" Azonis asked.

"None, my Lord," replied Tontal.

After a few more minutes of meaningless chatter, Azonis dismissed Tontal. The advisor departed to make the final preparations for the event Azonis had deemed "The Tournament of the Decade," which was designed to find Azonis his new Sword. The Sestian was sure there would be an exceedingly large turnout for the tournament since such a great reward was being offered. Any able bodied Engenium would be highly honored to become Azonis's Sword. Other than Azonis himself, the Sword held the most power in the entire kingdom.

Azonis hoped that no Forest Engenium would enter the tournament but knew that he could not exclude them for fear of another revolt. He did take comfort in the fact that no Forest Engenium would be skilled enough in the art of combat to ever have a chance at winning the tournament.

The day had finally arrived; the tournament was set to begin. The tournament was taking place in the stadium-like area of the city, known as The Stage. The Stage resembled an arena, although no battle had ever taken place inside its boundaries. The Stage was surrounded by a ten foot high stone wall. Inside the wall was a large, open, grassy field. Seats lined the top of the wall, extending upward and out. Each new row of seats was supported by thick stone pillars. The entire population of Lasticall, and many of the Forest Engeniums, turned out for this momentous occasion. Azonis, Tontal, Koste, and a few other members of the royal court sat opposite the fighter's entrance so that the entire viewing audience could see them. The time had finally come. Azonis took to his feet, and everyone in The Stage fell silent.

Azonis opened his arms wide and said, "Welcome citizens of Lasticall." The crowd erupted with cheers. He motioned for them to settle down. Speaking loudly, he said, "Good citizens of Lasticall, we are gathered here today for an historic event that will determine my new Sword." Cheers again. "I am not one who likes to hear himself talk. Let us begin."

The crowd roared violently. They could not wait to see this spectacle unfold. This was the first event of its kind to ever take place in Lasticall. Usually if one wanted to witness such barbaric behavior, they would have to travel to the more remote areas of the Free Lands.

Azonis took his seat and Tontal stood. He addressed the crowd. "The rules of this tournament are simple. Each participant can use their weapons of choice. Each match will be a fight to the death, or submission. To call for submission, a participant must hold three fingers to their heart. This would signal an inability or unwillingness to continue. The victor will move on to face the victor of another match, and so on, and so on. The last Engenium standing will be pitted against some of the most terrifying foes to ever walk Calencia. If the Engenium is able to best these monstrosities, he or she will be declared victor and be awarded the title of Sword of the Sestian. Without further adieu, let us begin."

A fat Engenium took Tontal's position. He put a speaking horn to his mouth and bellowed out, "Maltais Faroku and Dontius Thorn, come forth."

Maltais, a High Engenium, came to The Stage wearing a decorative golden suite of armor encrusted with green emeralds. He wielded two golden short swords. Dontius, a High Engenium as well, was dressed very similar, but without the emeralds. His weapon of choice was a pole arm. The two Engeniums stood ten feet apart from one another, anxiously awaiting battle.

The fat herald cried out, "BEGIN!"

Dontius rushed Maltais; Maltais took a defensive stance. Dontius lunged forward with his pole arm. Maltais raised his arm, turned his body slightly and evaded the attack, catching the pole arm under his right arm and sending his left arm forward. His golden sword sank deep into soft flesh of Dontius's neck. Maltais smoothly removed his sword, and Dontius slumped to the ground. The crowd cheered loudly. The first match had lasted all of five seconds. Maltais removed his helmet, exposing his many silver braids, bowed to the crowd and exited The Stage. A group of Forest Engeniums ran out and removed Dontius's body.

"Impressive," Azonis said.

The matches came in frequent succession. As soon as a body was removed, the fat Engenium would announce two more combatants, and they would begin their deadly duel.

So far, the High Engeniums' skills were unmatched, except by one another. Only one match was left in the first round, a High Engenium versus a Forest Engenium. Up to this point, only four Forest Engeniums had fought in the tournament. All four, one of whom had put his three fingers to his heart, were slain effortlessly. So far, the matches had been rather boring. Azonis had lost interest only three matches in. He did not show much regard for the first round of the tournament, due to the lack of skill displayed by so many. Azonis figured that after the first round, the tournament would become much more interesting, and he would no longer have to worry about the presence of the Forest Engeniums.

The fat Engenium stepped forward and said, "Rasmere Elmidas and Dorian Lokaster, step forward."

As the combatants entered The Stage, Azonis's attention quickly redirected to the tournament.

"Ah, a true warrior finally steps into The Stage. Dorian Lokaster is the most talented Engenium in all of Lasticall," Azonis said.

"True. He is highly favored to win the tournament," Koste agreed.

"It is unfortunate that we do not get to see him in a more difficult task," Tontal replied blandly.

"This match should be over with quickly enough. The next rounds should be much more entertaining," Azonis said as he drank the last of his wine, motioning to have his glass filled once more.

"BEGIN!" cried the herald.

Dorian Lokaster arrogantly approached Rasmere Elmidas, twirling his dual short swords in a circular motion. Dorian was dressed just like the other High Engeniums, in a suite of golden armor. Rasmere, on the other hand, was wearing tattered rags, and he was shoeless. He carried an unremarkable iron long sword. His bow, however, was remarkable. There was only one problem; he seemed to have forgotten his arrows.

As Dorian closed in, Rasmere sheathed his long sword and readied his bow. Dorian roared with laughter. Azonis decided that this match had become, much like the others, unworthy of his attention and began speaking of more interesting matters. Azonis and Koste were deep in conversation discussing the Engeniums whom they thought showed the most promise, when the crowd let out a surprised gasp. Azonis turned to The Stage to see Dorian Lokaster sprawled out in the green grass; an arrow was centered between his eyes. Azonis had a bewildered look on his face. The entire crowed stood, jaws gaping, trying to determine what they had just witnessed. Rasmere was like a statue, except for his eyes, which were locked on Azonis. Breaking the awkward silence, the fat herald said, "Rasmere Elmidas advances to the next round!" The entire crowd, minus the Forest Engeniums, was hauntingly silent. One of Lasticall's most favored sons was being carried out of The Stage.

"What . . . just . . . happened?" Tontal asked, stressing each word.

"I . . . I have no idea. Where did he get that arrow?" Azonis asked.

"Apparently, Dorian was not as skilled as we had thought," Koste stated matter of factly.

"No," Azonis said sharply. "He was as skilled as we had suspected. Who is this Forest Engenium?"

"The name is familiar. Where have I heard the name, Elmidas?" Tontal wondered aloud.

The fat herald said, "Elmidas was the name of the Savior from the Forest. Surely this Engenium must be from his blood."

"An Elmidas," Azonis stated with a hint of amazement in his voice. "I thought them all to be dead."

"It seems one still lives," replied Koste.

"Indeed," Azonis said. "This may prove troublesome."

Round two began after a short recess. The buzz of the tournament was Rasmere Elmidas. His name was shouted and whispered throughout the stands, mostly in a negative manner. The Forest Engeniums could hardly contain their joy over Rasmere's unexpected victory, but they knew they must or deal with the repercussions that would later be dealt to them by the High Engeniums.

The fat herald announced the next two combatants, "Rasmere Elmidas and Bewee step forward."

Rasmere entered The Stage to unwelcoming jeers. Bewee, a plump, bald, menacing looking High Engenium stepped into The Stage opposite him. He did not don the traditional golden armor of the High Engeniums; his round belly stood in the way. Instead, he wore a pair of brown breeches, white chiton and brown boots. He clutched a golden claymore in his hand. His hatred for Rasmere was evident by the hateful snarl on his face.

"BEGIN!" the fat Engenium cried.

Bewee ran forward, stopped and pulled a round ball from his pocket. Rasmere took aim with his bow as Bewee flung the ball toward him. Rasmere was about to release the string of his bow when the ball exploded, producing a blinding flash of light. Rasmere turned his head to shield his eyes from the light. Bewee rushed forward, lowered his shoulder, and smashed into Rasmere. Bewee sent him flying through the air. He tumbled across the ground, and his bow fell from his hands. Rasmere Elmidas rolled onto his back to find Bewee bringing his claymore down with all of his might. Rasmere rolled out of the way of the attack. Dirt sprang from the ground as the claymore smashed into the ground, missing its target by mere inches. He rolled three more times, barely escaping each attack.

"Now this is a fight!" Azonis exclaimed.

"I do not see this Forest Engenium faring as well without his bow," Tontal said.

Rasmere rolled onto his back and swept Bewee's leg out from under him. The plump Engenium fell hard to the ground. Rasmere got to his feet and drew his iron sword. For an overweight man, Bewee was rather nimble. He was on his feet in an instant. Bewee looked at Rasmere for a brief second, sizing him up. He charged once more, raising his claymore high into the air above his head. Just when Bewee started to bring his claymore down, Rasmere lunged forward with his iron sword. The crowd gasped once more. Bewee's eyes grew large as he looked down at his chest. Rasmere had not just drove, but buried, his iron up to the hilt in Bewee's chest. The golden claymore fell from his hands and stuck in the ground. The High Engenium fell to his knees. Rasmere removed his sword, slowly. He backed away, and Bewee fell face first into the soft green grass.

"Rasmere Elmidas advances to the next round," the herald announced.

The crowd became frenzied. Rotten fruit pelted Rasmere as he left The Stage. The crowd truly despised him.

"Remarkable," Koste said.

"He felled a fatty. What an accomplishment," Tontal said sarcastically.

"Bewee was a skilled warrior. Do not let his looks deceive you. I fought by his side when we drove the Harpies from the forest a few years back," Azonis said as he stroked his chin.

"Have you ever in your life seen a weapon such as his bow?" Koste asked.

"The arrow appeared from out of nowhere," Tontal added.

"It is an impressive weapon indeed," Azonis said as he took his seat. "Let us not get worked up about him just yet. He has yet to face the best the tournament has to offer."

"The next match begins," Koste said as Maltais Faroku and Alister Kale took to The Stage.

This match ended, much like Maltais's first match, abruptly. When the fat Engenium signaled for the match to begin, Alister let loose a single arrow. Maltais tucked and rolled forward. Before he had even come out of the roll, he slung a dagger at Alister, which sank deep into his throat, driving him to the ground. Maltais strode over to Alister's body, pulled the dagger from his throat, and exited The Stage.

"Maltais Faroku advances to the next round," cried the herald.

The crowd erupted with cheers. This High Engenium seemed to be their favorite.

"Now that was impressive!" Tontal exclaimed.

"Indeed," Azonis responded.

"It seems your nephew is well trained," Koste said.

"Maltais is the finest warrior Lasticall has to offer, and I am proud to call him family," Tontal said.

"He is a fine young Engenium, but he has yet to face a worthy opponent. Hold your excitement until he has been properly tested," Azonis said.

"Yes, my Lord," Tontal replied.

As the day lingered on, Rasmere Elmidas and Maltais Faroku kept racking up victories. Each of their matches was more impressive than the last. It became clear that these two Engeniums would be the ones who faced each other in the final round.

"Rasmere Elmidas, make your way to The Stage!" the fat herald bellowed.

Rasmere made his way to The Stage. Unlike his earlier matches, he was now met by cheers. He had warmed the hearts of the crowd with his impressive victories. They were now behind him as much as they were any High Engenium.

"Maltais Faroku, make your way to The Stage!" the Engenium cried.

Maltais was met with voluminous applause. As much as the crowd now approved of Rasmere, Maltais was clearly their favorite. He took to The Stage smiling and waving at his fans. He walked past Rasmere with a grin on his face. His silver braids bounced on his shoulders as he strutted by the Forest Engenium. Maltais stood a good fifty yards away from Rasmere, a tactic that puzzled Azonis.

"Why does he put such distance between himself and the Forest Engenium? Does he not fear his bow?" Azonis asked.

"I am sure he has good reason," said Tontal with a notable lack of confidence.

"If it were I, there would not be such open ground between us. Rasmere is deadly with his bow. Maltais gives him a huge advantage at such a great distance," Koste replied.

"BEGIN!" the fat herald familiarly cried.

Rasmere, nor Maltais, flinched. Both Engeniums stood across from one another in the green open field. The crowd was on the edge of their seats. Finally, Maltais made the first move. He stepped forward and stuck his short swords into the dirt. He whistled loudly up at the sky. A shadow fell over The Stage as a giant Teratorn soared toward Maltais, clutching an unknown item in its talons. The bird released an the object and soared up and out of The Stage, disappearing from sight. Maltais bent over to recover the unknown object, never taking his eyes off of Rasmere. The object was wrapped in horse hide and secured with a length of rope. Maltais cut the rope and removed the horse hide, revealing a golden bow and quiver of golden arrows. He took the bow and stepped back into a direct line with Rasmere. He nodded his head, notched an arrow, and sent it flying toward Rasmere. The Forest Engenium drew back his own bow and sent an arrow flying in return.

CRACK!

The two arrows met mid-flight, sending shards of gold and splinters of opas raining down on The Stage. The crowd erupted with applause.

"I do believe they are going to deliver quite a show!" Tontal exclaimed.

"Shhh," Azonis whispered, never taking his eyes from The Stage.

Rasmere let loose another arrow. Maltais sent one of his own back in return.

CRACK!

The two arrows, once again, collided violently in the air. Maltais sent three more arrows flying Rasmere's way. Rasmere defended once more.

CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!

Rasmere returned fire.

CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!

Maltais had defended all three shots as well.

Maltais held his bow out to his side and dropped it in the soft grass. He picked up his swords and said, "It seems that this match will see no end by way of the bow. Let us settle this properly."

Rasmere unsheathed his iron long sword and began marching toward Maltais. Both Engeniums sprinted to one another. They were in a dead run with their swords readied.

CLANG!

Iron and gold collided creating a blue-yellow flash. The force behind both of their blows sent them reeling backwards. They briefly locked eyes and came forward again. Rasmere lashed out with his sword. Maltais deflected the blow with his left, ducked, and then slashed at Rasmere's legs with his right. Rasmere evaded his strike, leaping backwards. Maltais pressed Rasmere with both of his swords, swinging them wildly and powerfully. Rasmere was reeling backwards. His heel caught on the edge of a stone and he fell onto his back. Maltais pounced at him, but the Forest Engenium stuck out both of his legs and flipped Maltais onto his back. Both Engeniums rolled to their stomachs and took to their feet once more.

This time Rasmere took the offensive. Rasmere's strikes were more calculated. He lunged forward, leading with his sword. Maltais took a step back. He lunged again, but this time after feigning a slash. His sword grazed the cheek of Maltais, bringing first blood. Maltais, angered by this, came rushing forward once more. His sword slashed through the flesh of Rasmere's chest, opening up his defense.

Maltais used the hilt of the sword in his off hand to bash Rasmere in the head. The Forest Engenium sprawled backwards. Maltais ran forward, jumped into the air, and kicked Rasmere square in the chest. Rasmere Elmidas fell to the ground, desperately searching for his breath. Maltais leapt into the air, aiming to plunge his swords deep into Rasmere's defenseless body. The crowd raged with excitement.

As Maltais was falling upon him, Rasmere leaned up and grabbed Maltais by his wrists, pulling his arms into a V. The golden short swords missed each side of Rasmere's neck by inches. The blades dug into the ground, and Maltais's neck came to rest on the intersection of the blades. The force of Maltais's falling body drove the sharp edges of the swords into his neck. Blood poured freely from Maltais, as both of his jugular veins had been severed. Rasmere pushed Maltais's lifeless body off of him, carefully removed the swords away from his own neck and stood covered in blood.

The crowd was silent for a moment, until the herald cried, "Rasmere Elmidas is victorious!" They exploded with cheers.

"Well, this was rather unexpected," Azonis said with disappointment in his voice.

"We cannot have a Forest Engenium as the Sword. It will upset the balance of all things," Tontal said loudly, so he could be heard above the tidal wave of cheers. "What shall we do, my Lord?"

Azonis was staring at Rasmere, deep in thought. He knew that he could not have a forest dweller in his court. But what choice did he have? This Engenium had made it through the tournament, fair and square. He fought bravely and with honor. Azonis's thoughts turned to the final tasks in the tournament. There was still a hope that Rasmere would not make it past the beasts he had procured.

"Release the Hormuts," Azonis said.

"What? The victor is scheduled to rest until tomorrow morning before he faces the beasts," Koste said.

Azonis turned on Koste, coming within inches of his face.

"Do as I say!" the Sestian commanded.

Koste turned to the fat herald and said, "You heard him," he paused for a brief moment, looking back at Azonis, "release the Hormuts."

The fat Engenium stepped forward. His voice erupted through The Stage. "Rasmere Elmidas, prepare yourself for battle."

Rasmere did not look surprised. He knew that the Sestian did not want a Forest Engenium in his court. It must have come as a huge surprise to Azonis that he had advanced to the end of the tournament against the large number of skilled High Engeniums. He drew his bow and nodded.

"Release the Hormuts," the herald cried.

The crowd gasped. Hormuts were extremely rare in Calencia, they were almost extinct. Hormuts were the largest and most vicious canines in all of Calencia. They hunted in packs, which made them all the more dangerous. A steep bounty had been placed on the savages many years ago, greatly thinning their numbers.

A gate on the opposite end of the fighter's entrance slowly rose. Silence fell over the crowd as the gate stood open. A low growl began to climb from the darkness of the holding pen. The growls became louder and louder and louder. Suddenly, six mangy brown Hormuts exploded out of the holding pen, racing toward Rasmere with their large, razor sharp teeth exposed. Rasmere began to unleash a barrage of arrows from his bow, killing four of the Hormuts before the other two were upon him. He drew his sword in the nick of time and extended it in front of him, skewering one of the beasts through its neck.

The last Hormut let out a chilling howl, mourning its fallen brothers. It lunged at Rasmere and clamped down on his sword as he brought it up to block the attacks. The Hormut violently ripped the sword from his hand with its powerful jaws and flung it across The Stage.

Rasmere was slowly circling the beast, awaiting its next attack. The Hormut leapt forward, and Rasmere grabbed it by the jaws. The force of the Hormut behind its weight drove Rasmere to the ground. The Hormut fiercely snapped its teeth at Rasmere's throat. The canine was only inches away from spilling the Forest Engenium's blood all over the green grass.

Slowly, Rasmere began to extend his arms, pushing the Hormut away from him. He grasped the beast by the back of the skull and lower jaw. With a rapid jerk, he snapped the Hormut's thick neck. It let out one final yelp and went limp.

The crowd was on the verge of destroying The Stage with their rowdy applause. Rasmere, throughout the tournament, had put on a spectacular show, and the crowd was in love with him.

Azonis slammed his fist down hard on his table. "Send out the Ganthor!" Azonis roared.

Koste and Tontal stared unbelievingly at him.

"Did you not hear me? Send out the Ganthor, now!" the Sestian demanded.

The fat Engenium hurriedly said, "Ready yourself! Release the Ganthor!"

Before the crowd or Rasmere could react, another gate opened. A Ganthor came stampeding toward the Forest Engenium. He fired several arrows at the beast, but to no avail. It kept charging at furious pace.

The Ganthor was a hulking beast, twenty feet tall and ten feet wide, wearing only a loin cloth. It clutched a large spiked club. Its pale gray skin was riddled with scars. It had a wide, nasty mouth which was filled with sharp teeth. Most of the surface of the Ganthor's head was covered with hundreds of tiny eyeballs. It breathed heavily and drool dripped from its mouth.

The Ganthor brutally slammed its club into the ground. Rasmere jumped out of the way, firing several more arrows as he did. The beast turned on him and brought its large three-toed foot down on the ground, trying to stomp the pesky ant that nipped at his flesh. Rasmere, once again, evaded the attack. This game of cat and mouse went on for what seemed like an eternity.

The crowd was on the edge of their seats. Rasmere was running out of wind, but so was the Ganthor. Its attacks were becoming fewer and at a less rapid pace. Rasmere knew that his opportunity to slay the beast was at hand and that he must act. He waited patiently for the Ganthor to swing his club. When that moment came, Rasmere grabbed onto one of the club's spikes and was hoisted high into the air.

The Ganthor frantically searched the ground for the tiny Engenium. He was turning in circles looking for Rasmere, oblivious to his whereabouts.

Rasmere slid down the club and ran up the Ganthor's arm. The multi-eyed monster looked to his club, then to his arm, but Rasmere was now on his neck making his way toward its greasy head. The Ganthor swatted at Rasmere, like a gnat.

Rasmere scaled the beast until he stood upon the crown of its head. The Ganthor thrashed its neck trying to shake Rasmere off of him. The Forest Engenium pulled his sword and slid down its head to the front of its face, digging his fingers into as many of the beast's eyes as possible. It let out a shriek of pain.

Rasmere was dangling in the air with one hand on his sword and the other secured into a freshly popped eye. An eye, much larger than the others, sat in the center of the Ganthor's face. Rasmere sank his sword into the Ganthor's eye and ripped it out; creating a large laceration that ran the length of the eye. The Ganthor shrilled in pain and fell to its knees, sending Rasmere tumbling to the ground.

When Rasmere smashed into the hard ground, he rolled backwards and drew his bow in one swift motion. He released twenty arrows into the Ganthor's ravaged eye, each one sinking deeper than the last. The beast let out one final cry and fell to the ground.

The crowd's shouts shook The Stage. Rasmere stood up and looked toward Azonis Ferrini, hoping that this was the last beast he would face.

"Set it loose," Azonis said, not taking his eyes off of Rasmere. "Release the Pranther!"

There were no objections from his constituents. The herald called out to the crowd. After attempting to quell the crowd several times to no avail, the herald motioned for the gate keeper to open the gates. With the opening of the final gate, the crowd instantly became hushed, as a very unusual being entered The Stage.

The beast that entered The Stage was a Pranther, a cross between man and panther. The last known Pranther had died over seven hundred years ago at the hands of the Kwaynots. All of Lasticall was in awe at the sight of this mythical beast. No one was sure how Azonis came about procuring such a creature, but the crowd loved him for it.

Pranthers were fearless, savage, warriors of old. They were once a dominant race in Calencia, but their barbaric customs had no place in the ever changing world. Their eagerness for war and lack of diplomacy ultimately led to their supposed extinction. Everyone believed them to be long gone, never to be seen again. Nonetheless, here one stood walking on its hind legs with its long tail dragging the ground behind it.

The feline-like creature was at least six feet tall. Its body was thick with muscle and covered with a silk, purple fur. It had sunlight yellow eyes and long sharp teeth. The Pranther was wielding a silver long sword in its right paw and a shield in its left.

Rasmere and the Pranther locked eyes momentarily. The cat-like creature let out a piercing cry, resembling the scream of a woman being butchered, and began bounding toward Rasmere. Rasmere, as always, held his ground with bow in hand. He watched carefully as the Pranther darted toward him. This creature was fast, very fast. Rasmere was having extreme difficulty keeping his eyes locked onto it. The Pranther leapt high into the blue sky. Rasmere looked up and raised his bow, but the sun blinded him. He lost sight of the airborne creature. He only had time to fire a single arrow before the Pranther fell on him. The crowd fell silent once more.

Azonis had left his seat and was leaning over the railing to get a closer look at what had just happened. Suddenly, the crowd erupted in cheers as Rasmere pushed the Pranther off of him and took to his feet. He stood victorious once more.

"No!" Azonis screamed as he slammed his fists down on the railing.

Rasmere called out to him, "I am ready. Send your next beast. It will meet the same fate as the others."

Azonis would have liked to have sent every dangerous creature in Calencia at Rasmere, but he had no more at his disposal. He had prepared to give a worthy High Engenium a meticulous test of strength and cunning. He had not made preparations to destroy a seemingly undefeatable Forest Engenium. As much as he detested the thought of having a Forest Engenium as his Sword, he must follow through with his offer or face civil war. Looking on the bright side, Azonis had just gained the servitude of the most skilled warrior in all of Lasticall. Surely I can break him? I am sure I can use him to my advantage.

Azonis addressed the crowd. "Good citizens of Lasticall. I declare Rasmere Elmidas winner of the Tournament of the Decade and bestow upon him title of Sword of the Sestian, if he wishes to accept this most glorious position."

Rasmere stepped forward, bowed to one knee and said, "It would be my honor to serve you, my Lord."

"As you wish," Azonis said turning to the crowd. "Everyone, give a big round of applause for your new Sword."

The crowd cheered Rasmere, for he had put on the best show any of the Engeniums had ever seen. He had won the hearts of every Forest Engenium and High Engenium alike.

Azonis turned to Tontal and begrudgingly said, "Great. This has turned into a most depressing day," and stormed off back to his castle.

Later that day, Rasmere was welcomed into the castle where Azonis presented him with a golden suit of armor, which Rasmere hesitantly declined, and a golden long sword that he graciously accepted. He could tell that Azonis was not happy that he had won, a fact that he knew beforehand. Azonis had to despise the fact that a Forest Engenium had won his tournament and would be occupying a position of power in Lasticall, not to mention residing in the castle. Rasmere vowed that his newly acquired position would not change him. He would use this power to somehow, some way, bring equality to the Forest Engeniums.

# Chapter 17

# Sealing off the Kingdom

As impatience grew in every fiber of his body, Azonis began to stroke his protruding chin, a habit he exhibited when he was becoming anxious or angry. His mind was frantically processing thought after thought. Why has Rasmere not returned? Is the beast dead? Is Rasmere dead? No, he is not dead. He couldn't be. Tonight, the entire kingdom will feast on pork. His train of thought became broken when one of the watchers came busting into the throne room.

"Sir! The hunting party approaches the castle. They seem to be fleeing from something," the watcher panted.

"Fleeing? You must be mistaken. Rasmere does not turn from battle," the Sestian said as he rose to his feet.

"My Lord, I am certain that he is fleeing, and that is not all," said the out of breath Engenium.

"Out with it!" demanded Azonis.

"Loud booms are coming from behind them in the distance. Something is chasing them. Whatever it is that pursues them is so large, it shakes the very ground we stand on," said the watcher.

"How big is this boar? No matter. If the beast wants a fight, we will give it a fight. Koste!" exclaimed Azonis.

Koste, the general of Lasticall's army, replied, "Yes, my Lord."

"Gather the army and have them meet me at the gates," Azonis ordered.

"How many Engeniums shall I bring, my Lord?" asked Koste.

"All of them," replied the Sestian.

Azonis left his castle and met the army at the gates to the south. It was still early morning, and the fog had started to dissipate. The sun was barely poking through the gray clouds. Azonis did not like the feeling in the air. Something was amiss.

"Lower the gate," Azonis ordered the gate keeper.

The gate keeper nodded and started his chore. As the gate began to rise, three sets of legs came into sight. They were taking high, long strides toward the castle.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Once again the loud footsteps echoed in the distance behind them. Whatever this creature was, it was large, gigantic even. Its steps shook the ground beneath Azonis's feet. The fleeing Engeniums were yelling something as they frantically hoofed it to the safety of the sturdy stone walls surrounding Lasticall, but their voices were drowned out by the sound of the beast pursuing them.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

The army stood ready. Azonis could finally make out one of the figures. Rasmere came into view, running for his life. The Sestian's heart fell from his chest. What unseen foe could be heading toward his kingdom that would have Rasmere retreating?

Finally Rasmere's voice carried across the length of land that separated him and the castle. He shouted, "Draw the bridges! Lower the gate! For the sake of the kingdom lower the gate!"

Azonis began to stroke his long chin once more. Hair began to dance on the back of his neck. He did the only thing that he knew to do. Azonis turned to the gate keeper and bellowed, "Close the gates! Draw the bridges! Seal off the kingdom!"

The gate keeper grabbed a large horn and gave it a mighty blow. The sound echoed through the entire city. He then began to lower the gate, as the keeper on the opposite tower from him began the laborious task of raising the bridge. The gate keepers on the west end of Lasticall did the same. The city was on lockdown. No one would be able to enter or exit the city.

"May fate have mercy on them," Azonis said under his breath as the gate slowly lowered, and the heads of the returning party began to fade from sight.

# Chapter 18

# The Green King

"Easy, Red. It is only a Brazurkin. He should be friendly," said Locmire.

"He does not look too friendly," stated Lot of the large green Brazurkin who began to slow his run as he approached the trio of travelers.

"Good travels," said the Wizard courteously as the Brazurkin came into speaking distance.

The Brazurkin stopped just feet from the group. The sheer size of him was amazingly impressive. Lot had seen many Brazurkins in his days, but this one had to be the largest he had ever laid eyes upon. The Brazurkin stood nearly nine feet tall. He was wearing only a brown breech cloth and a pair of short brown leather boots. His skin was a dark green. His body was tattered with numerous dark, keloid scars. There was something rather odd about this Brazurkin. The spots where two prized ivory horns had once grown, were now replaced with two jagged stumps that were level with the base of his skull. His horns had been broken off, and from the looks of them, it had happened recently. Golden earrings littered his ears. His nose was wide and flat; two large canine teeth curled over his upper lip, resembling that of a boar. Black, emotionless eyes sat deep in his head. A large, round, battered shield was slung over his back, and a three balled flail was secured to his baldric. This Brazurkin was unbelievably large. Every muscle in his body rippled with definition. He was a behemoth of his race.

"He still does not look friendly," Lot said under his breath.

"Greetings travelers," replied the Brazurkin in a low rumbling voice.

Locmire noticed that the Brazurkin had recently been in battle. His body was bruised and dried maroon blood painted his skin.

"It seems that you are injured. May we be of assistance?" Locmire inquired as he looked the Brazurkin over.

"Injured?" asked the Brazurkin, looking over his beaten body. "I am not injured, only minor scrapes that would make but a child whimper."

"My name is Locmire of Fogarth. This is Lot Caskill of Galdarath, and Cap'n Red Maher of the High Seas." Lot nodded and Red introduced himself with a belch.

"Urganox of Morgorath," the Brazurkin said as he nodded his large head.

"Urganox?" asked Locmire.

"Yes, Urganox," replied the Brazurkin.

"Then you must be King Urganox of Morgorath?" the Wizard asked.

"Yes, the King of Morgorath," replied Urganox.

"Arrr, does dis be da udder king we be lookin fur?" asked Red.

"Yes," replied Locmire.

"Udder?" Urganox asked. "Are you calling me a cow's milk sack?"

"Nah, me only be's-," Red tried to explain himself but was not afforded the opportunity.

"What does this strange tongue ask? Are you in search of me? If so, you have been blessed with luck on this day," Urganox said as he drew his flail, "or cursed with death, depending on your purpose. Explain yourself!" the Brazurkin demanded.

"Easy friend, we mean you no harm," said Lot as his hands instinctively met the handles of his short swords.

"We are on our way to Pizenchaffe to seek the aid of the Daintish King. After our dealings in Pizenchaffe we planned on heading west to speak with you, to seek your aid as well. We are on a mission of-"

Urganox interrupted, "There is no aid to be given from Morgorath. Have you not heard?"

"Heard what?" asked Locmire.

"It seems that word does not travel fast around here. Morgorath has fallen. The entire kingdom has been destroyed. I am the only survivor," Urganox said remorsefully.

Locmire's expression turned to that of sorrow. He paused for a brief moment, and then said, "I am sorry to hear about your kingdom. Please, tell us what has happened."

Urganox told the travelers what he knew about the destruction of Morgorath. Not a single Brazurkin, other than himself, or Bear Man had survived the unnatural disaster.

"What type of disaster could cause an entire mountain to fall?" asked Lot.

"No natural disaster could cause such a travesty," said Locmire. "But Hasbarie on the other hand . . . it is very possible."

Urganox came to attention abruptly. His eyes bore down hard on Locmire. "Who did you just say?" he asked.

"Hasbarie, the Dark Wizard," Locmire paused for a moment. "He has returned."

At the confirmation of the Dark Wizard's name, Urganox looked as if he had just relived the destruction of his kingdom. His very life seemed to cease momentarily.

"The Dark Wizard's return," he paused. "Is he the reason you are seeking the aid of the Dainties and the Brazurkins?"

"Yes," replied Locmire.

"The Dainties still exist?" he asked.

"Yes. They still live," Locmire replied.

"If joining your cause gives me a chance to avenge my people, I accept, but as you can see, I have no army to help in the upcoming struggle," Urganox said as he pulled his shoulders back, correcting his posture.

"An army is not needed. The prophecy concerning these events only involves the last remaining bloodline of the original Saviors. You are the last of your bloodline, I assume?" asked Locmire.

"I am. Until recently, my brother and I were the only remaining true bloods of the Skullsplitter clan. Now, only I remain," said Urganox.

"What happened to your brother? If you do not mind me asking," questioned Lot.

"I killed him," Urganox bluntly stated.

"Ye keel hauled yur own brudda?" asked Red.

"What did you say?" asked Urganox irritably, as he menacingly stepped toward Red.

Locmire and Lot both looked at Red. Tension was like a thick fog in the air. Urganox became agitated at Red both times he had addressed him. Locmire began to speak, but Red put out his hands for Locmire to stay his words.

"Me gots dis un," said Red.

Red walked up to Urganox. He squared his shoulders at the large Brazurkin and looked him directly in the eyes. Urganox came forward a few feet to meet the Pirate.

"Me . . . uh, I mean," he paused as he collected his thoughts and began to concentrate. "I said ye, I mean you, kilt yur brother?" the Pirate stated proudly as he had almost put together an understandable sentence.

Urganox stood and stared at Red for what seemed to be an hour. Lot and Locmire stood ready for Urganox to retaliate with violence. The warrior Brazurkins were not known for their patience.

"I like you," Urganox said with a chuckle as his large hand slammed down on Red's shoulder, almost knocking him to the ground. "You are a brave little man, even though you speak like one who does not have full function of his mind."

The tension in the air broke, and Lot let out a sigh of relief as he removed his hands from the hilts of his swords. A smile broke on Locmire's face. Red joined in the laughter and slapped Urganox back on his chiseled deltoids. This did not achieve the effect Red had hoped for. Instead of knocking the Brazurkin off balance, he seemed to only hurt his hand.

Red doubled over holding his hand close to his stomach and said, "Arrr, ye mus be made from stone. Are chances be good wit dis un on are side."

"Let's hope our funny talking friend is better with his swords than he is with words," laughed Urganox.

"Red is a very capable warrior," said Locmire.

BANG!

A loud noise erupted and filled the air around them. Urganox fell backwards into the bushes as he stumbled away from the unseen blast. He jumped to his feet and drew his weapon.

"Vulture," Red calmly stated as he holstered his pistol.

Lot slowly shook his head with a large grin on his face.

"What did you just do?" Urganox asked.

"Me kilt a vulture," Red replied as he holstered his pistol.

"What kind of magic do you possess?" Urganox asked again.

"Taint no magic. It be's me pistol," Red said as he patted the gun on his side.

"A what?" the Brazurkin inquired.

"It is quite the device. It fires a lead ball from its end. It comes in handy," Lot replied.

"Well, let us not waste time. If Pizenchaffe is our destination we still have some traveling left to do. You can explain more to me as we go," said Urganox as he began to climb on the back of Locmire's horse.

As Urganox started to swing his leg over Locmire's horse, his eyes rolled back into his head and he collapsed onto the ground.

Locmire climbed down from his mount and said, "Help me with him."

Lot and Red rushed over and helped Locmire drag Urganox out of the road.

"We must get him somewhere so he can rest. He is exhausted," Locmire said.

"Less than a league up the road is an inn. Do you think we can get him there?" Lot replied.

"Do ye reckons dey gots a bed big enough for em?" Red asked.

"If you two can get him upon my horse, I can ride him the rest of the way," Locmire answered.

Red and Lot, after much effort, hoisted King Urganox onto Locmire's horse. They slowly began to make their way to the inn. Red and Lot rode on either side of Locmire, helping the Wizard keep the giant in place on his overburdened horse. It took them over an hour to reach the little inn, and no one was happier than Locmire's horse. Lot and Red helped get Urganox down on the ground. The tired mare let out a sigh of relief. Locmire helped them prop Urganox up against the fence that surrounded the inn and went inside.

"Can we get some assistance?" Locmire asked as he entered the small inn.

"Certainly. What is it that you need?" The innkeeper asked.

"One of my travel companions has fallen ill. We need lodgings for the night," Locmire explained.

"Hold on a second," the innkeeper said with a strange look on his face. "Are you . . . are you a Wizard?"

Locmire reluctantly answered, "Yes."

"Ha!" the inn keeper shouted as he slammed his hand down on the bar. "I knew it. In all of my days I have never met a Wizard, until just now! My name is David, David Bailey. Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Wizard."

Locmire hesitantly replied, "Locmire of Fogarth. The pleasure is all mine."

"Oh!" David exclaimed. "I almost forgot about your friend. We have several beds available. Take your pick."

"There may be a slight problem," Locmire said.

"Oh yeah? And what might that be?" David asked.

"My travel companion is rather large," the Wizard told him.

"How large?" David asked.

"He is a Brazurkin," Locmire said, expecting a look of shock to overcome the innkeeper.

"No problem!" David exclaimed. "We have some large beds here. We often lodge Brazurkins."

"You do?" Locmire asked.

"Yes. All the time. Let us go and get your friend inside," David said, as he came out from behind the bar and made his way out the door.

David helped Locmire and the others get King Urganox inside and onto a large oak bed. When they dropped the King onto the bed, feathers flew all over the room as the bed exploded under the great weight of the King.

"He is a large one," David stated.

"That he is," Lot replied.

"Well," David said as he wiped the sweat from his brow, "let's get you three settled in. Apuhroo stew will be served in less than an hour. You are more than welcome to it. Free of charge, of course."

"We thank you for your generous hospitality. How much do we owe you for the room?"

"Humm," David scratched his balding head. "Well, how does three bronze coins sound? One bronze coin each. The Brazurkin's room is on the house."

"That is mighty generous of you," Locmire replied.

"Well, it is not every day that a Wizard visits my inn," David replied.

"I will be sure to share the word of your hospitality to my fellow Wizards," Locmire said as he patted David on the shoulder.

David showed them to their rooms and gawked at the five gold coins Locmire had placed in his hand.

As they sat around eating the delicious apuhroo stew and drinking freshly made apple juice, much to Red's disapproval as he was hoping for something with a little more kick, they discussed the tragic destruction of King Urganox's kingdom and whether or not Thaddeus and the others had made it to Lasticall safely.

"Hard ta believe da Dark Wizard destroyed da entire city," Red said as he pushed the glass of apple juice aside.

"I fear this is only the beginning," said Locmire.

"Not if we stop him," Lot chimed in.

"That is my hope," Locmire replied.

"Me wonders how yur brudda fares?" Red asked as he gulped down a big drink of the stew.

"I am sure he is fine. Have you not heard? He is invincible," Lot said, rather blandly.

"They should have made it to Lasticall already," said the Wizard.

"We must ride hard tomorrow if we are to make it to Mt. Pizenchaffe before the sun sets. I think it is time I turn in for the night. I could use the extra rest," Locmire said sleepily as he stood from the table.

"Night, old man," Red said.

Locmire bowed his head and made his way to his room.

"Reckons me needs ta hit da hay too," Red said as he rang the stew out of his beard. "Ye turnin in?"

"I think I will stay up a little longer. I have had a six month respite in a castle. I am well rested," Lot said with a grin.

"Well, I'm off ta bed. Me been fightin dead men an men dat don't got no mouths," said Red as he stumbled toward his room.

He is a strange man, but I like him, Lot thought as he watched Red close the door to his room.

As the night lingered on, Lot stayed up to sharpen his weapons. He put a very fine edge on his blades. He was so wrapped up in his task that he did not notice Urganox exit his room and walk over to his table.

"Where is the Wizard and the other Human?" Urganox asked.

Lot's body jumped. "You startled me. I did not see you come out of your room," Lot said as he pulled out a chair for the King to sit with him. "They turned in for the night. How do you feel?"

"Better. Where are we?" asked the King.

"Bailey's Inn."

"What happened to me? Did I pass out?"

"Yes. As you were mounting Locmire's horse, you fell to the ground. We brought you here for rest," Lot answered.

The King chuckled a little. "I am sorry to be such a burden. That was the first time in my life that I have ever lost consciousness. How long have we been here?" questioned Urganox.

"Since a few hours before nightfall," replied Lot.

"I will be ready to leave in the morning. We should be able to recover lost time."

"It is best that you are well rested. I am sure we will need you at your best before it is all said and done," Lot said.

"This is quite the situation that we are in. Is it not?" Urganox asked.

"That it is. One minute I am locked in the dungeons of Galdarath, the next I am on a quest to save all of Calencia."

"How did you get dragged into this mess?" Urganox asked as David brought him out a piping hot bowl of stew. "Thank you for your hospitality, innkeeper."

"You are very welcome. Is there anything else that I can get you?" David asked.

"No. This should be plenty," Urganox said as he eyed the half a pot of stew.

"Well, I am not sure exactly. It seems that I am the brother to King Thaddeus Graystone, and somehow I am tied into all of this through some prophecy that I do not know the full extent of. I suppose my current circumstance is much better than it was before. At least if I die, I will die a free man," Lot said as he dragged his whetstone across the blade of his short sword.

"So, Thaddeus is your brother. He is a good man. We have not always seen eye to eye, but he is a good man," Urganox said as he gulped down a large quantity of stew.

"Ha!" Lot chuckled. "That is what everyone says about him."

"Have you and Thaddeus not always seen eye to eye?" Urganox asked.

"We have never seen eye to eye. Until yesterday I did not even know him as my brother," Lot said as he sheathed his sword.

"Have you heard any word from him?"

"No, not yet. I did have a feeling, or something, earlier. It felt like he was in trouble. I have had these vivid images all of my life but never knew where they came from. Now, I suppose it is some kind of connection between the two of us. Who knows?" Lot said.

"What was your vision?" asked the King.

Lot repositioned himself in his chair and said, "I am not sure. I saw some sort of creature, unlike any I have ever seen before. Thaddeus was engaged in battle with it. That was all I saw."

"I am sure he is fine. Thaddeus is a great warrior," said Urganox.

"That he is," Lot replied.

For some reason, Lot could not keep his eyes from straying to the broken horns on Urganox's head. As much as he tried to look the King in the eyes, his own eyes kept migrating to the stumps where his horns once originated. Finally, Urganox mentioned them.

"You keep looking at my horns," the King said as he ran his hands over the remaining stumps. "Sad, is it not?"

"I do not mean to stare," Lot said shamefully.

"It is fine. It is not every day that you see the Brazurkin King hornless."

"What happened to them?" asked Lot.

"They became broken when the mountain that destroyed my kingdom tried to take my life as well. As you can see, a mountain is no match for me," Urganox said with a hearty laugh.

"I think they add character," Lot replied with a smile.

The two heroes spent much of the night sharing stories and tales of happier times. Surprisingly, they had a lot in common and conversation came naturally to them. A few hours before dawn they decided it was time to turn in for the night. Their departure would be upon them soon, and they needed their rest.

The next morning Locmire was up with the sun, and as usual, he had to douse Red with water to wake him. Red's screams woke Lot and Urganox, along with everyone else who was lodging at the inn. The heroes had a filling breakfast consisting of yarkle eggs, pork, bread, and juice. They gathered their things, thanked David once more for his hospitality and continued on with their journey to Mt. Pizenchaffe.

# Chapter 19

# Darkness at the Gate

The gates of Lasticall were gradually lowering. Azonis stood inside the stone walls, watching helplessly as Rasmere and two others ran for their lives toward the sanctuary of Lasticall. Directly behind them, the dark army was gaining ground in what was left of the forest. A creature resembling a Woggen, but much larger, pummeled its way through the forest, uprooting the innocent trees that stood in its path.

Azonis murmured under his breath, "Hurry, Rasmere."

As Rasmere and the remaining hunters came closer to Lasticall, a problem arose. The bridge had begun to rise, the gates were closing, and their pursuers were getting ever closer. Rasmere lowered his head and shoulders slightly and began to dash for the almost out of reach bridge. At the edge of the ravine that surrounded the southern border of Lasticall, Rasmere bent his knees and launched himself into the air. He cleared the end of the ascending bridge, landed on the other side, and slid down the steep slope the rising bridge had created.

His companions were not so lucky. One unfortunate Engenium missed the bridge entirely and fell into the bottomless ravine. The other clung to the end of the bridge, dangling over the hungry abyss. As he began to pull himself up, a large black hand engulfed him, squeezing the life from his body.

The Woggen grabbed the bridge with its free hand and pulled it back down, snapping the large chains that were doing their best to draw up the large wooden walkway. The bridge slammed back down, and the Breathless were free to march across.

Rasmere was now only a few feet away from the gate. He was not sure if he would beat the clock on this day. If he did not, he was sure it would be his last. Rasmere used the remainder of his dwindling energy and made a desperate attempt at safety. He slid feet first at the closing gate. As his head slid under the gate, he saw a large fist come crashing down where he had been only moments ago. He stood up inside of the sanctuary of the city, and Azonis rushed over to him.

"What is happening?" Azonis asked.

Rasmere looked at him and calmly said, "The boar is no more, but it seems that we now have more threatening matters at hand."

"What is that creature?" Azonis asked.

"I do not know," Rasmere replied.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

The large creature was now beating away at the gate. Archers atop the wall began to launch arrows at the beast and the countless Breathless.

"How long before it breaks down the gates?" Azonis asked.

"The gate is strong. It is made from opas. The walls on the other hand . . . a few hours," Rasmere replied.

"Help prepare our army. We are at war," Azonis said, listening to the deep thuds coming from the city walls.

Thaddeus and his group had almost made their way to the southern gate leading into Lasticall. It had taken them less than an hour, but the terrain was very rugged and slowed them down considerably.

"It should not be much further to the southern gate, just over this hill," Thaddeus said as he dug his feet in the loose earth, almost reaching the top of the hill that separated him and his small group from Lasticall.

Caleb had already made it to the top, for deer are very good at climbing hills. River was trailing closely behind Thaddeus. After a few more moments, the trio was finally on the downhill slope, making much better time than they had on their way up.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

"I do not know what is making the ground shake like it is, but I do not like it," River said as she stopped dead in her tracks.

"Nor do I," said Thaddeus.

"Should I go ahead and take a look?" asked Caleb.

"Yes, but be careful. Stay out of sight," said the King.

Caleb jumped high into the air, transforming into a small brown hawk. He soared off toward the direction of the earth shattering sounds. Gliding just below the clouds, Caleb had an excellent view of the forest. It was a very old forest with ancient trees populating the landscape. The wildlife thrived in this area of Calencia. He noticed trees and plants that he had never laid eyes upon before. These were the most beautiful woodlands he had ever seen. He soared graciously toward Lasticall, letting the steady wind do most of the work. The city was surrounded by a thirty foot high stone wall. If this gate is closed, the only other way into the city would be to fly over it, Caleb thought.

As he came closer to the city he finally saw what all of the commotion was about. Just outside of the city's wall was an angry mob of the Breathless and a gigantic creature that was tearing away at the stone barrier surrounding the city. Engeniums were lined along the top of the stone structure and were raining down arrows upon the attackers. Many of the Breathless were falling, but the small wooden arrows seemed to have no effect on the large creature whose only goal was to tear down the wall and let Hasbarie's dark forces enter the kingdom. Caleb quickly turned and made his way back to Thaddeus and River. He dove to the ground where Thaddeus stood, taking his human form again as he touched down.

"Thaddeus," he said with urgency in his voice. "Lasticall is under attack! Hundreds of the Breathless, and a large beast are at the southern gate. We must go now!"

Thaddeus tore off into the forest. It was only a few minutes until Thaddeus and his group had arrived at the southern gate . Just as they came close enough to witness the attempted siege of Lasticall, the Woggen tore down a large section of wall. Thaddeus and his group were standing behind Hasbarie's forces, unnoticed. The rest of the wall came crumbling down as the Woggen let out a deafening roar that carried throughout the kingdom.

"The Battle of Jericho," Caleb said softly.

"What?" asked Thaddeus.

"Nothing. What shall be our course of action?" asked Caleb.

"We fight," Thaddeus said sternly, as he drew his axe.

"Where should we focus our attack?" asked River.

"We must bring down the giant beast. The city will not be safe until it falls," said the King as he stared at the Woggen, which was now tearing down the rest of the wall so the Breathless could enter the city.

For blessed sake, thought Thaddeus, what type of creature is this?

Just as the last of the wall came down, the Breathless attempted to enter the city but were driven back by the Army of Lasticall. The Engeniums came pouring out of the city, swords and bows in hand. Azonis, Rasmere, and Koste were leading the attack. Azonis and Koste began to cut their way through the creatures, clearing a path for the rest of the army to advance. Rasmere stood atop a pile of rubble, firing the Bow of Elmidas at an unbelievable speed, each shot driving through the decomposed head of its desired target.

Thaddeus and his trio stood still for a moment watching the events unfold before their eyes. The magnitude of Hasbarie's attack became clear to Thaddeus. It is war.

Azonis and Koste were fighting back to back, as they were surrounded by what seemed to be a never ending onslaught of attackers. Black blood flew through the air with each strike of their golden swords. The fronts of their shields were no longer golden, but black with the blood of their enemies who had gotten too close to the two Engeniums and were met unwelcomingly by devastating bashes of their shields. Rasmere did not take his eyes off of the Sestian. It seemed every second that passed, another of the Breathless fell silent by his bow.

The army was now amongst the chaos. Their ranks were being scattered by the numerous foes and the large Woggen, who was now rushing through the Engenium warriors. The Woggen would lower his head and charge like a bull taunted by a red cape, killing friend and foe alike.

"Let's move," said Thaddeus as he stormed off to join the fight.

River was right at his side. This came as a surprise to Thaddeus. River did not hesitate. She showed no signs of fear. She was prepared for war. Caleb turned back into the purple panther and tore past Thaddeus and River. He lunged into the air and came down on the back of an unsuspecting enemy, tearing at its throat. Thaddeus cleaved his way through a wall of Breathless with his axe. He was cutting down his foes like a farmer with a sickle, cutting away the overgrown earth to prepare a new plot of food.

River was positioned at the end of the bridge unleashing fire bolts into the horde. An exorbitant group of the Breathless turned and began stampeding toward her. She lowered her staff and touched it to the ground at the end of the bridge as she muttered an incantation. The charging creatures came within feet of her, but that was as close as they got. When their feet touched the earth near her, a large hand constructed of rock and dirt came from the ground and swatted the attackers, sending them flying into the ravine. Black blood spewed through the air, covering River in the rotten stench. The hand disappeared and she, once again, began to set the non- living creatures ablaze.

The King of Galdarath finally fought his way to the Sestian of Lasticall's side.

"Looks as if you could use a hand, old friend," said Thaddeus as he sank the blade of his axe into the head of one of the creatures who was about to attack Azonis from behind.

"Thaddeus, what are you doing here?" asked Azonis as he plunged his blade deep into the heart of another creature.

"No need for pleasantries. A simple thank you will suffice," the King said, swinging his axe violently as another wave of attackers fell upon them.

Thaddeus, Azonis, and Koste worked together like a well-oiled machine. With the arrival of the King and his companions, the tide of the battle began to turn. River had made her way across the bridge, and Caleb was wreaking havoc as a large eagle, grabbing and dropping the Breathless into the ravine. The numbers of the Engenium soldiers had been greatly reduced by the Breathless and the rampaging Woggen, who had still not come close to Thaddeus.

Rasmere had fired well over two hundred arrows without missing a target, saving Azonis numerous times. The Breathless had encircled Rasmere, forcing him to draw his golden sword. He was a splendor to behold. The Sword fought with a skill and grace unbeknownst to many. He did not fight frantically; his strikes were calm and calculated. His preferred method of hand to hand combat was counter attacking. As the Breathless made their looping swings at him, he would duck or dodge the attack and return a deadly strike of his own. Dispatching of the Breathless came effortlessly to him.

The Woggen had grown weary of toying with the heroes. He let out another loud screech. At once, the remainder of the Breathless became still. The surviving Engenium warriors quickly cut them down. The only participants that remained in the battle were a handful of soldiers, Rasmere, Thaddeus, Azonis, Koste, Caleb, River, and the blood thirsty Woggen.

# Chapter 20

# The Woggen

"Spread out!" Thaddeus yelled.

The remaining warriors quickly broke apart as the Woggen came charging toward them. The Woggen was covered in blood, with large red chunks of flesh clinging between its teeth. Intestines were tangled around its large horns, and it clutched the body of a dead Engenium by the ankles.

Even though they were instructed to spread out, the remaining members of the army were creatures of habit and reformed their ranks. A tight, impenetrable formation was the only way they knew how to fight. It took years of discipline for the warriors not to break rank during battle. This hard earned discipline led to their demise.

One of the Engeniums yelled, "For the Sestian!"

The ten remaining members of the army rushed forward, charging at the Woggen. The Woggen raised its large arm, the one which held the dead Engenium, and brought it down hard upon them as they came into striking distance. The force of the blow drove them into the ground. The golden armor of the Engeniums bent and mangled around their bodies as they lie on the ground twitching, like a serpent after it had just received a large stone to its flat head. After a moment of uncontrollable flailing about, their nervous systems finally shut down, and they became still.

The Woggen unexpectedly roared out in painful fury as a small arrow pierced its eye. It swatted at the pesky intruder, breaking the arrow off in its eye. The bloody beast roared louder than ever before and charged toward the source of its pain...Rasmere. As it closed in on him, the Forest Engenium slid down the rubble pile and rolled out of the way of the attack. The Woggen crashed into the stone wall and sent himself staggering backwards as head met hard stone.

Screams from the beast echoed through the valley as Thaddeus rushed in and sank the head of his axe into its toe, lopping it off. The Woggen swiped at the King, but Thaddeus ran between its legs escaping harm.

As the beast turned on Thaddeus, Azonis struck from behind and sliced the Woggen's Achilles tendon. The creature screamed in pain once more as it fell to one knee.

Turning on Azonis, the Woggen was met once more, this time by Caleb, who began to claw at the Woggen's eyes with his razor sharp talons. The Woggen swatted at him, unsuccessfully, several times. He finally connected with a glancing blow which sent Caleb plummeting to the ground.

River began bombarding the Woggen with blasts of her staff to protect her fallen ally. The dark beast turned toward her, and once again, it felt a sharp pain in its leg. The Woggen was becoming frustrated at the onslaught of attacks.

This time it was Koste who inflicted the damage to the Woggen. With an overhand grip on his sword, he stabbed the beast in the leg. He ripped downward with great force, tearing the Woggen's leg open and creating a gaping wound. Black blood rained down upon Koste. It ran into his eyes, momentarily hindering his vision. That was all the time the Woggen needed to wrap his large hand around the tiny nuisance by his feet. He hoisted Koste high over his head. Koste was at least fifty feet high in the air. He could see over the ruined walls of the city. Lasticall is breathtakingly beautiful from this view, Koste thought.

Suddenly he felt his stomach climb up in his chest, wind was rushing through his hair, and the ground below was upon him in an instant. The Woggen slammed Koste down on the ground with a force so hard that Thaddeus and Azonis lost their footing. All that remained of Koste was a mist of red blood hovering in the air, and a squishy pile of mangled body parts. The Woggen stood over top of the fallen warrior reveling in his victory.

Thaddeus scurried up the rubble pile and made his way to the top of the broken wall. Rasmere, River and Azonis were on the ground attacking the Woggen with all of their might. The dark beast picked up a fallen section of the wall and hurled it at the ground attackers. They were all lucky to evade the projectile attack. The hulking death dealer bent over once more to grab another section of wall to cast at the warriors. This time when the Woggen began to rise back up, something was flying through the air and coming straight at it. Thaddeus had leapt from the wall and was soaring through the air with his axe high above his head, knees bent, ready to strike. He brought his dragon bone axe down between the Woggen's eyes. Black blood showered Thaddeus, who held to his axe as he fell back to the ground.

The Woggen screamed in agony, turning in large, off balance circles. Its arms flailed in the air, groping at its bloody face. When the Woggen finally regained composure, he was standing mere feet from the edge of the ravine. Its two large hands frantically wiped the blood from its eyes. The Woggen's vision was impaired. When it regained focus, a large, slightly translucent orb came soaring through the air. River's force spell furiously struck the Woggen in its chest. The beast flew backwards through the air, screeching as it went. It plummeted into the black abyss of the ravine. For over a minute, the warriors could still hear the beast screaming as it fell.

Cheers erupted from within the city. The Engenium Kingdom had not fallen at the hands of Hasbarie's forces, even though many lost their lives. River and Thaddeus ran over to Caleb. He had not moved since the Woggen swatted him from the air. Rasmere and Azonis stood by their side. River was shaking Caleb slightly and telling him to wake. Rasmere knelt down beside her.

"May I?" he asked.

She nodded with tear filled eyes.

Rasmere ran his hands over Caleb's face and stood back up.

"He is merely unconscious. He should wake soon," said the Sword.

Azonis turned to Thaddeus and said, "By the grace of fate, you and your companions helped to save our kingdom. We are in your debt, King of Galdarath."

Azonis knelt to Thaddeus.

Thaddeus replied, "You are in no debt to me, Sestian." He paused and knelt to Azonis as well. "We are dealing with a force that threatens all of our kingdoms."

"What are you speaking of, Thaddeus? Do you know from where these beasts came?" asked the Sestian.

"Yes." Thaddeus paused to take a deep breath. "The Dark Wizard Hasbarie has returned."

Azonis and Rasmere both were taken aback.

Thaddeus continued, "It is a long story, my old friend. I am not even the best person to explain these turn of events to you. The Wizard Locmire can explain it to you better."

Azonis interrupted, "Did you say a Wizard?"

"Yes, a Wizard. He came to me when my kingdom was attacked by similar foes," said Thaddeus.

"I had heard of the attack on your kingdom, Thaddeus. I am sorry to hear of your loss. Emilia was a beautiful creature. We had been informed that it was bandits who had attacked you in Galdarath, not these creatures," Azonis finished.

"I appreciate your showing of sympathy. Emilia was beautiful, but I must put that behind me for now. We have much work to do," Thaddeus said as he wiped the sweat from his brow and continued on. "A long story short, Hasbarie has returned along with the Onock in the area west of the Arplasia Mountains. The Wizard Locmire has been revealed a prophecy. The last remaining bloodline of each race of Saviors who toppled Hasbarie so many years ago are to join together to destroy the Dark Wizard once more. We require your allegiance if there is any hope for our lands."

Azonis nodded and said, "I am the last of the Ferrinis, so this must be my duty."

"Will you join us, Azonis?" asked Thaddeus.

"Yes, Thaddeus, I will join you. Give me a short time to get my affairs in order. I must ask you though, who are the two with whom you travel? I know the girl to be a mage, but I have never seen another like your unconscious friend," Azonis said as he looked over at Caleb.

"They are a part of the prophecy as well. It will be explained. Also, I am sorry for the loss of your general, Koste. He was a noble warrior, and he fought bravely," said Thaddeus.

"Yes, Koste was the commander of my army. The two of us have fought side by side many times. My heart is saddened by his loss, but I still have my Sword," Azonis said as he looked at Rasmere.

Rasmere nodded in acknowledgment.

"Azonis, get your affairs in order. We must set off for Dead Marsh to speak with the Raptilians," Thaddeus said as he turned to go check on Caleb. He turned back around and said, "I almost forgot. There is one more order of business before you go."

"Yes," replied Azonis.

"We must also seek the aid of another from your kingdom. A Forest Engenium by the name of Rasmere Elmidas. Do you know where we can find him?"

Azonis turned to meet the stare of Rasmere.

"He is my Sword," Azonis replied.

"I am Rasmere Elmidas, and I will join your cause without hesitation," he replied.

"So, I finally learn the name of your Sword," Thaddeus said as he stepped toward Rasmere. "You are very skilled in the art of war. It will be comforting to know that one such as yourself will be aiding us in our struggle."

"Thank you, King Graystone. Let me go and prepare for my departure," the Sword replied.

"No need, Rasmere. You will accompany me. We must see the affairs of the kingdom set in place first," said Azonis.

Rasmere spitefully responded, "Yes, my Lord."

It had been years since the enslaving of the Forest Engeniums had ended, but Thaddeus could still feel a sense of superiority in the way Azonis had overturned Rasmere's decision to gather his own things in preparation for the journey ahead. Even though Rasmere had proven himself equal to Azonis, maybe even superior, on the battlefield moments ago, Azonis still showed a slight hint of self-importance over Rasmere. This could pose a problem in the journey ahead, Thaddeus thought. If we are to succeed we must be able to work together and put all differences aside. A picture of Lot flashed through Thaddeus's mind. Look who is talking.

# Chapter 21

# The Entrance to Pizenchaffe

Locmire, Red, Lot, and Urganox had finally arrived at the foot of Mt. Pizenchaffe. The cool winds blowing in from Lake Ormavon and the Zanasee Ocean caused a significant drop in the temperature. The mountain was a colossal natural wonder. While standing at the bottom, none of the heroes, other than Locmire, could see the mountain's peak through the thick white clouds. The mountain had seen many years of wear and tear from the elements: Its base was covered with loose rock and dirt which were brought down by hard rains after years of erosion. The Pizenchaffe Mountain range stretched all the way to the western coast. At one point the Pizenchaffe Mountain range met the Arplasia Mountain range, creating Morgorath Valley, the former home of the Brazurkins. Now that they had finally arrived, it would be up to Lot to gain them entrance to the underground city. Time would soon tell if, in fact, he had found the entrance to the long forgotten home of the Dainties.

"I still believe us to be on a wild goose chase. The Dainties have been long dead," said Urganox as he hopped off the large plow horse that Locmire had purchased from the innkeeper, David.

"I have a very good feeling that they still live," said Locmire.

"Oh they are alive. Drunk, nasty, and angry as ever," said Lot as he began to climb up the face of Mt. Pizenchaffe.

"Whur ye be goin lad? Ye don't pect us to be climbin all over dat mountain like a ornery ole billy goat, do ye?" asked the Pirate.

"No, I do not, Red. The entrance is just a few more feet away," said Lot.

"You mean to tell me that with all of the scavengers searching for Daintish artifacts, no one has ever found the entrance?" asked Urganox.

"The best place to hide something is where everyone can see and no one suspects. Every great thief knows that," said Lot as he slid a large slab of rock out of the way, revealing a tunnel that led down into the mountain. The rock that covered the entrance to Pizenchaffe had surely deceived many, as it was not as large as it appeared. It was long and wide, but only an inch thick, making it rather easy to move. The Thief smiled at the group and jumped down into the tunnel.

"I have not heard him scream of pain yet. It must be safe to enter," said Urganox as he walked over to the hole and jumped down.

"After you," said Locmire to Red.

Red looked down at the dark hole and hesitated for a moment.

"Ye sure dey got lots of drink down thar, Locmire?" asked Red.

"More than your mind can even begin to consider," replied the Wizard.

Red nodded with excitement and plunged feet first into the hole. Locmire waited for a moment, allowing Red ample time to clear out of the way, and then he jumped down.

# Chapter 22

# Coming Around

River sat on the ground cradling Caleb's head in her lap. He had now been unconscious for over twenty minutes, but his breathing had normalized, and he had a look of peace on his face.

"He took a hard hit," said Thaddeus.

"Yes he did. I hope he is well," River said as she wiped the blood from his brow.

"He will be fine. He is a warrior."

"I have never seen anyone like him. Have you?" River asked.

"He is indeed an extraordinary person, and his talents have come in handy," replied the King.

River looked concernedly down at Caleb. She had only traveled with her new companions for a short time, but she had become very close to them. She looked back up at Thaddeus who was sitting on a fallen section of the large stone wall.

"Do you think Locmire and the others are all right?" she asked.

"I am not sure," said the King.

"I wonder if they have made it to Pizenchaffe?" River asked.

"I do not think so," Thaddeus replied.

"What makes you think that?" she asked.

"During the battle with that creature, a feeling came over me. It is hard to explain, but the feeling was not that of my own. Instead, I believe it was what Lot was feeling. Do not ask me how, for I do not know. I have had these visions and feelings all of my life without ever knowing why. Now, I think that the strange visions have been some sort of connection between me and my brother."

Thaddeus could see the sense of relief in River's expression. She looked happy at the news. The King also noticed something else about the female spell caster; she was absolutely beautiful. Thaddeus could not help but to notice that even after emerging from a battle such as the one they had just participated in, River's natural glow still shone through. She was breathtaking. River was filthy from the sweat that had streaked the dried, black blood on her brow, and she was still just as beautiful as the first time he met her. I can see why Lot may be stricken with her, he thought. The only other woman Thaddeus ever considered beautiful was Emilia.

"You fought well today, Mage. Your courage shined during battle," said Thaddeus.

River's peaceful expression quickly turned into that of shock.

"Thank you," she said as blood rushed to her face. "As did yours," she added.

The King did not speak for a moment. His mind was working at a frantic pace trying to choose his next words wisely.

"River, I must ask you something."

"Yes," she replied as she pushed her hair out of her face.

"Do you remember anything that happened the night you disappeared from the camp?" Thaddeus asked.

Her expression changed once again. This time it was a look of confusion.

"No, I do not even remember falling asleep," she replied.

Before Thaddeus could question her any further, Caleb began to stir.

"Ah," said the King, "he wakes."

Caleb was producing a low moan from his closed mouth. He traced his cheek with his fingers to where a large gash decorated the crown of his head. His eyes squinted as the sunlight filled his pupils.

"Caleb?" River asked "Are you alright?"

"Feels like I have been swatted out of the air by a giant beast," he said with a smile as he made his way up to a sitting position.

"Glad to have you back," said Thaddeus, extending a thick hand to Caleb.

Caleb gripped his hand and pulled himself up.

"Glad to be back. How did it end?" he asked, as his eyes scanned over the scattered bodies of the fallen Engeniums and Breathless.

"Not well for Hasbarie's demons," said the King.

"Nor for Azonis's men," added the Mage.

Caleb made his way over to a large stone on wobbly legs. He sat down and examined the wound on his head.

"How bad is it?" he asked.

"I have seen worse," replied Thaddeus.

"Azonis? Is he well?" Caleb inquired.

"He is well. As is the other Engenium we were told to recruit. They should be back soon," said the King.

"You have already found the other one we were sent to find?" asked Caleb.

"He actually fought beside us in the battle," answered River.

"The one with the bow?" he asked.

"Yes," she replied.

They sat around for half an hour or so, talking about the battle and how the Woggen finally fell. Much to River and Caleb's surprise, Thaddeus had become very pleasant as he was praising their abilities in combat.

"You performed well, River. You are a truly talented spell caster," Thaddeus said, turning his gaze to Caleb. "And Caleb, never have I seen and individual such as yourself. You have been given an unbelievable gift. I am proud to fight side by side with the two of you."

It seemed the King was beginning to soften his heart toward them. He even made a few jokes. This was a relief to both of his companions as they had begun to wonder if he would ever warm up to them.

River could not help but to feel sorrow for the King. The previous day she sat and watched as he was about to wed the love of his life, but Hasbarie stole her away from him. She knew that deep down Thaddeus was a good man, and she would have loved to have met him before his beloved had met an untimely end. Even though River was starting to develop a bond with the King, she still could not help but to remember her experience with the army of Causperias, and the men who attacked them by the river. I wonder if Thaddeus knew what those men did to me and my friends? Would he have stopped it? She thought that he would have or at least given them a fair trial.

Their time of bonding was cut short when an Engenium climbed over the ruined wall and called to them, "King Graystone! The Sestian requires your presence."

Thaddeus nodded and said, "We will be right there."

They followed the Engenium through the fallen wall and into an open area of the city where every last citizen of Lasticall was gathered in the town square anxiously waiting to hear from Azonis.

# Chapter 23

# Differences

The entire population of Lasticall was huddled together in the town square. Azonis, Rasmere, and a few of the remaining guards were standing on the speaking platform in the center of the square. Azonis began to address the crowd concerning the recent attack on the city and making preparations for his departure. He was rallying the citizens to help reconstruct the fallen wall. The remainder of the army was being lifted with praise and receiving orders pertaining to the protection of the kingdom. The Sestian was desperately trying to put his city back together before his unplanned departure. Thaddeus and his crew approached Azonis and were motioned to come to him on the platform.

"Thaddeus, I seek your advice," said Azonis.

"I will offer whatever insight I can," replied the King.

"My army has suffered great losses. I fear we do not have the power to hold the city if another attack is made. I cannot leave my kingdom in such a state of disorder," Azonis said as he stroked his chin.

Thaddeus was deep in thought for a moment, his eyes narrowed and face went expressionless. "If I were in your shoes, I would enlist some of your more capable citizens and begin their training immediately," said the King.

"That is the problem, Thaddeus," said Azonis as he looked over the citizens. "Every capable High Engenium is already in service to the kingdom. I have no others to rely upon. How does Galdarath fair? Can you spare any warriors?"

"You know the layout of Galdarath. I must have all of my men to protect my kingdom. I am at a disadvantage as well," the King replied regretfully.

Rasmere spoke in a low voice, "Your entire kingdom is not in service, my Lord."

Azonis's body became stiff. He turned to Rasmere. His agitation was obvious by his body language.

"We have already discussed this, Rasmere. I cannot allow Forest Engeniums to serve the kingdom in such a manner," said Azonis.

"You allow me into your service. Do you not?" replied Rasmere.

"Yes, but it is different with you. You are in service to me, not the kingdom of Lasticall," said the Sestian smugly.

"So the Forest Engeniums can work in the gold mines at a peasant's wage, providing the city its riches, but not be allowed to defend it?" Rasmere asked.

"Rasmere, do not make more out of this than it is," said Azonis.

"After all of these years, we are still treated as subordinates to the High Engeniums. The forest is ours as well, and we have the right to defend it," Rasmere said boldly.

Azonis's mood changed from agitation to fury. A look of hatred boiled to the surface of his face. I should strike him down for his defiance. If he were not so valuable to me, I would have his head on a pike for his insolence.

"Azonis," said Thaddeus.

The Sestian turned to the King, remaining silent.

"I feel that during these days some certain customs must be thrown out. I feel that allowing the Forest Engeniums to help defend the city would be the best resolution to your dilemma. It would unite your kingdom like never before. During the first conflict with Hasbarie, did not the High Engeniums and Forest Engeniums fight side by side as one?" Thaddeus asked, hoping the Sestian would appeal to reason.

Azonis stood silent for a minute, mulling over the words Thaddeus had just spoken to him. The words the King said did ring true. The High Engeniums and Forest Engeniums had fought side by side once before. The allegiance between the two factions had ended the bloody feud between them and had given the Forest Engeniums certain liberties, but in the eyes of the High Engeniums they were still unequal.

What if allowing them to join the army of Lasticall would liberate them even further? What other choice do I have? I could just leave now and take the chance that the city would be safe, or I could allow the Forest Engeniums to join our ranks and certainly increase our odds of defending our city. I am sure to be hated by many for this decision.

"Very well, I will allow the Forest Engeniums to join our army," he said turning to Rasmere. "You can rally your kind if you like. I have no emotional control over your people. I do not think they would agree to join my army if I gave the invitation."

Rasmere burned holes into Azonis with his emerald eyes. His hatred for Azonis was now more than ever.

Why had I ever agreed to serve Azonis in the first place, he thought. He supposed it was to help bring equality to his people. Up until this point he had failed miserably. It pained him to know that his goal was not accomplished out of willingness from the Sestian but rather by extreme circumstance. Rasmere walked to the front of the speaking podium and held his arms upward and outstretched.

The Forest Engeniums quickly silenced themselves out of respect for Rasmere. The High Engeniums quieted out of curiosity. He scanned the crowd over several times before he spoke. When he finally addressed the crowd, his voice was commanding and carried throughout the entire square.

"Brothers," he said. "I speak to you today on behalf of The Sestian of Lasticall, Azonis Ferrini."

A few disapproving murmurs came from the crowd.

"Today has been a tragic day for the city of Lasticall, as well as the entire Kingdom of Lasticall. Many of our High Engenium kin, along with our brothers of the forest, were slain today," he paused.

A low rumbling came from the crowd.

"Today was just the beginning. An evil force threatens all of our lands. Not just the city, but the forest as well. Just as this evil has made attacks on the city of Lasticall and Galdarath, it will focus its attacks on the forest. The evil you saw today came from the very forest we call home," Rasmere said as he paused to let the sound of disbelief fade out.

"After careful consideration on behalf of Sestian Ferrini, he has agreed to allow our people to join the ranks of the Army of Lasticall." He paused once more to meet jeers from both sides of the kingdom.

An old Forest Engenium in the crowd spoke up and said, "Why should we fight to protect this city? It still enslaves our people for a measly wage. This city, nor its ruler, has given us anything other than inequity."

The Forest Engeniums erupted in applause. Azonis showed a slight sign of concern on his face, but it quickly turned into a smirk.

"My brother," Rasmere said as he addressed the old Engenium. "I understand your feelings. Even as Sword of the Sestian I feel the sting of unfairness. I am not asking for your aid to help protect the city of Lasticall, but to protect the entire Kingdom of Lasticall, our forests included. We cannot defeat this evil as two separate entities. We must become one to prevail. Just as our ancestors did before us, and just as we shall do today."

The crowd roared in applause. Even the High Engeniums were joining in on the excitement.

Rasmere spoke even louder, "Who will stand and fight as one? Who will stand together and resist this evil that is upon our lands? Who will follow in the footsteps of our ancestors and triumph over this dark force that threatens not only our lands, but all of Calencia? Who will fight?"

The crowd erupted with cheers. Fists from both races were jutting up like spring flowers. Rasmere had accomplished his task. The entire Kingdom of Lasticall had finally become united. The Engeniums were standing side by side, as one race, preparing to take on the responsibility of defending their homeland.

He turned to Azonis and said, "Here is your army, my Lord," and walked away.

"Well said, Rasmere," Thaddeus said as he approached the irritated Engenium.

"Thank you, my King," he replied.

"I am not your King. Think of me as your equal. Take some time to get your own personal affairs in order. We will wait for you at the western gate ," said the King.

"Thank you," Rasmere said very appreciatively as he tore off toward the forest.

"Your Sword is quite the individual, Azonis. He does not seem like one to cross," said Thaddeus.

"He is a remarkable servant. He just needs to learn his place," replied Azonis.

"Seems to me that he has found it," said Thaddeus.

Azonis did not particularly care for this comment, but he did, in fact, agree.

"Yes, it seems that he has. I am glad he is on our side," said Azonis.

"Perhaps you might want to start acting like it," responded the King.

"Perhaps," replied Azonis scornfully.

"Do you have your affairs in order, Azonis?" asked Thaddeus.

"Yes. I have my throne temporarily filled, the army is reforming, the wall is being rebuilt, and the dead are being laid to rest. We are all set," said the Sestian.

"Very well, let us head to the western gate and wait for Rasmere," said the King.

River spoke up and said, "Thaddeus, what of the Summoner?"

A grim expression loomed on the King's face.

"Summoner? What is the girl talking about, Thaddeus? A Summoner?" asked Azonis.

"The portal that was opened in the forest today cannot open on its own. A Summoner, someone who is possessed by Hasbarie himself, must be present to open it. It seems that someone in your kingdom is not who they appear," answered Thaddeus.

"I can find him," said Caleb. "The last Summoner had a very distinct smell."

"See to it then," said the King.

Azonis started to ask how Caleb was going to smell out the Summoner, but right before his eyes, Caleb transformed into a dog and began sniffing through the crowd.

"Remarkable," said Azonis.

"That he is," replied the King.

# Chapter 24

# The Summoner

A vicious bark began to echo from the back of the crowd. It seemed that Caleb had found whoever it was that he was looking for.

"He has identified the Summoner!" Thaddeus exclaimed as he, Azonis, and River ran toward their four- legged friend.

Against the stone wall stood an old Engenium who was being held captive by a snarling hound.

"Do not move," said Azonis as the group surrounded the odd looking female Engenium.

Her lifeless gaze chilled Azonis's very soul. Black veins, which looked like crawling worms squirming under her skin, extended from her eyes and spider webbed out across her face. Her skin was ash gray; all signs of color had fled her body.

"Did you think you could come into my kingdom and cause such destruction and get away with it?" Azonis demanded of her.

She began to cackle loudly.

"Silence yourself, witch," roared Thaddeus.

The Summoner cackled even louder as she began to hover in the air, just as the other had done in Galdarath. Hasbarie used the Engenium to speak to Thaddeus once more.

"We meet again, Thaddeus Graystone, and it seems that you have made some new friends. It does not matter. Your efforts are futile. Soon I will be stronger than I ever was before. No person, persons, or armies will be able to stop me. I vow to you that when we meet, if you are even man enough to reach the Onock, I will make your death slow and painful."

The Dark Wizard's voice carried throughout the kingdom. Everyone in the crowd backed away from the floating woman.

"You hide behind puppets, too frightened to face me in the flesh. When I am finally able to bring you out of the hole in which you hide, I promise you that I will finish what my ancestor, Ryker, started many years ago. I will tear you limb from limb. This, I promise you," Thaddeus growled.

A menacing laugh erupted from the frail, old Engenium. A low hum began to omit from her body. Black mist crept from her mouth and began to encircle her. Thaddeus knew what was about to happen, but he did not have time to prepare for the blast that was coming.

Azonis yelled, "Enough games!" as he stamped forward aiming to strike down the Dark Wizard's host body.

The Summoner began to shake violently, stopping Azonis in his tracks. She was on the verge of exploding with great force, just as the human puppet had done, but before the dark bomb could detonate, four objects whizzed by Azonis's head. The flying objects struck the outstretched body and drove it backwards into the wall. Four arrows seemed to grow from the, now lifeless, Summoner's face. Azonis turned a half circle to find Rasmere standing on the speaking podium with his bow in hand. He had come back through the town square just in time. The Sword hopped down and made his way over to them.

"Nice shooting," said Thaddeus. "You acted just in time."

Rasmere nodded in return.

"I think I had the situation under control," snapped Azonis.

"The situation was not under control. We were about to receive a nasty surprise," said the King.

"I do not need you watching my every move. I am very capable of handling myself, or do you forget who I am?" spouted the Sestian.

"I know very well who you are, more so now than ever. Let us hope that my aim remains always true. It would be tragic for one of my arrows to stray," rebutted Rasmere.

"Are you threatening me?" Azonis asked as he came nose to nose with Rasmere.

Thaddeus had seen enough. He could no longer contain his frustration. "Enough!" roared the King as he grabbed the Engeniums by their necks, pulling them close to his face. "I do not care what unresolved issues remain between the two of you. This ends now! I will not tell you again."

He let go of the Engeniums, and they stood staring at one another.

"Very well," said Azonis as he brushed himself off. "I likewise will not remind you again, King Graystone. Keep your hands to yourself. If you touch me again. . . the trouble will be between us."

Thaddeus nodded and agreed, "Very well."

Rasmere turned and made his way toward the western gate . Azonis gave his final commands to Tontal, who was taking his place on the throne. Caleb shifted back into his human form. Thaddeus stood and watched as Azonis marched by him and the others.

"I cannot, for the life of me, understand why they act like fools in such times," the King said to his companions.

"It has been a tough day for the two of them. Let's just hope that they can put their differences aside," said Caleb.

"They remind me of a couple of people that I know," said River with a smile.

"That they do," said Thaddeus. "That they do."

As they were departing Lasticall, Thaddeus stooped down and placed the small portation stone on the ground near the western gate .

# Chapter 25

# Inside Pizenchaffe

The golden glow from the torches lit the way through the otherwise dark tunnel. Lot had taken the lead, rather easily navigating his way through the winding passages. If there ever was a doubt about whether or not Lot had actually visited Pizenchaffe, those doubts were now laid to rest.

"It is not much further now. We will be in the Daintish city before long," said Lot.

"Let us hope. This is a very tight squeeze for me," Urganox said as he wiggled his way through the tunnel on his hands and knees.

"I do not believe these tunnels were made for one such as yourself, Urganox," Locmire added.

"You must be the single most perceptive being I have ever met," Urganox said sarcastically.

"Once inside the city we will undoubtedly be met by the guards of Pizenchaffe. We must all keep our heads, or we may lose them. For such small people they can become very violent," said the Thief.

"There should be no reason to worry. Wizards have always been on good terms with the Dainties," said the Master Wizard.

"Hopefully they still honor your friendship," Lot said as he swept a large spider web aside. "How many years has it been since you have had communications with them?"

"Five hundred," Locmire answered. "When we arrive, we must go to the castle and speak to King Oggius Stonefist. Our dealings with him should go rather smoothly. The Dainties, namely the Stonefists, have always been welcoming to Wizards."

"Urrr. . . well den, you lot go to da castle and me will be doin some checkin at a few udder places. Ya know, in case he be's out fur a drink," Red said enthusiastically.

"We are entering the city," Lot said as he finally stepped out of the winding tunnel.

"Blow me down," Red said in awe, stepping out of the narrow tunnel and into a huge underground city.

The Daintish dwellings were breathtaking. They were built with Pizenore, a bright, bronze colored ore found only under Mt. Pizenchaffe. Even the streets were formed from the rare element. This was one of the most beautiful cities the group had ever laid eyes upon. For it to be an underground dwelling, the Daintish city was lit extremely well. Basins of petrom, acting as sunlight, were set ablaze up and down the streets, illuminating the underground city. As the group stood gazing in wonder, their moment of serenity was soon disrupted by the sound of accelerated footsteps, all marching in unison toward their location.

Twenty or so armor clad warriors quickly surrounded the group. The short, stocky Dainties brandished weapons that were much larger than their own bodies. They would have almost been comical looking if not for the snarls on their faces. A host of battle axes, war hammers and great swords were all pointed at Locmire and his party.

"Halt! In the name of the King! Who goes there?" demanded a plump little warrior.

"Locmire, Wizard of Fogarth. These are my companions," he said pointing at the others. "We seek the council of the King. We come in peace."

"A Wizard, eh," the Dainty replied.

"Yes," said Locmire.

Another small warrior came over to the Dainty in command, and they began to speak. The commander nodded his head.

"If you are in fact a Wizard, show us a bit of magic," the Daintish commander said.

"As you wish," said Locmire.

"And nothing tricky," replied the Dainty.

Locmire nodded his head.

When the Wizard took a step forward, the Dainties took a step back with their weapons still pointed at the unannounced guests. Locmire readied his staff and removed the hood from his head, revealing the leather bound goggles that covered his eyes. He hoisted his staff high into the air. A pink light floated away from the tip of his staff and began to descend upon Red.

"Forgive me, friend," Locmire said with a smile.

"Forgive ye? Forgive ye for what?" Red asked.

The pink light struck Red in the chest. The light erupted, producing a blinding flash. A loud squeal came from within the wall of light. The light slowly dimmed and Red was gone, sort of. The Pirate's form had been replaced by that of a plump, pink pig. The cute little swine was rooting around on the ground and prancing back and forth amongst the Dainties. The tiny warriors erupted with laughter. Lot and Urganox joined them in their moment of merriment.

"I like him much better as a pig. Can we keep him like this, Wizard?" Urganox laughed.

"I am afraid not. Although . . . he is rather cute," Locmire said as he pointed his staff at the pig.

Another pink light came from the staff and engulfed the pig. A bright flash of light later, and Red was back. He stood in wonder trying to figure out why everyone was laughing at him.

"What be's so funny? What do ye's be laughin at?" asked Red.

Everyone laughed even harder.

After a moment the laughter subsided and the Daintish commander spoke, "You are welcome in our home, Wizard. We must ask you to disarm before you go any further."

"What? Disarm me? You must be mistaking me for a Brazurkin who has lost his gall. I will never disarm," Urganox exclaimed.

Locmire gave Urganox a look of disapproval. Urganox did not like this look. Even though he could not see the Wizard's eyes, he could tell exactly what Locmire was thinking.

"Fine, I can do just as much damage with my bare hands," Urganox said as he threw his flail to the ground.

The rest of the group did the same except for Red. Red laid down his cutlasses, but decided it would be best if he kept his pistol with him, considering the Dainties would not know what the device was. Locmire glanced at Red and gave him a nod of approval.

"Your arms will be collected and protected until your visit here is over. No need to worry. They will be perfectly safe," said the commander as another guard gathered their weapons.

"We know they will, my friend," said Locmire.

"Coming to see the King, eh? Well follow me to the castle. Easy to get lost down here if you do not know where you are going. By the way, the names Golgar, head of the Royal Army of Pizenchaffe. Sorry for the unpleasantness, but we can never be too careful. We don't get many. . . we don't get any visitors down here, can't trust anyone these days," the long winded Dainty rattled out in only a few seconds.

"We completely understand. Thank you for your hospitality," Locmire squeezed in.

Golgar was an auburn haired Dainty with rosy red cheeks. His long hair was woven into five braids that hung down to his shoulders. His matching beard split up the middle by two larger braids, which came half way down his chest. He wore the traditional pizenore armor of the Royal Guardsmen of Pizenchaffe.

"Dis half man be full of wind. He could fill me sails an get me ship half way cross da country wiff one breath," Red whispered to Lot.

Golgar was escorting the group to the castle and giving them the royal tour as they went. He had something to say about every structure they passed by. When he happened to mention the town pub, Red's eyes lit up with excitement.

"A pub, ye say?" asked Red.

"Yes, a pub. The best pub in all of Pizenchaffe to be exact," Golgar replied.

Red looked at Locmire and motioned his head toward the pub. The Wizard motioned him on, and Red scrambled his way toward a place called The Broken Lamien. Locmire thought a little break would be good for Red. He was in a strange land, far removed from his home, and he had been through a lot in the past few days. A little time to himself would not hurt, at least he hoped.

Locmire, Urganox, and Lot continued on with Golgar to the castle to meet King Stonefist.

# Chapter 26

# The New King

Golgar, Lot, Urganox, and Locmire stopped in front of a long, high set of steps that led up to two large decorative doors. They stood in awe, gawking at the beautiful structure which was the castle. Two colossal statues of immortalized Daintish warriors stood beside the doors as if they were guarding its entrance. Statues of Dainties dressed in armor and wielding their weapons lined the staircase. The statues were an undying tribute to the previous kings of Mt. Pizenchaffe and Daintish heroes of long ago.

"Castle Pizenchaffe, a great structure she is," Golgar said as he began the long climb to the entrance. "Be respectful to the King. These are trying times in our kingdom, and his patience runs thin at the moment."

"We will mind our manners," replied Locmire.

As they approached the entrance two fierce looking Dainties stepped aside and pushed open the two large doors. The group entered the grand hall. At the back of the room was a large throne made from pizenore, encrusted with diamonds, emeralds, and rubies and outlined in gold. Sitting on the invaluable throne was a bulbous little Dainty who was stuffing his face with meat and bread. He had a golden goblet that held his wine, a goblet that his servant could not seem to keep filled. Bits of food were collecting in the folds of his bare stomach and chest. The Daintish King was a slob.

"This is the great Daintish King who is to help us topple Hasbarie and his evils?" asked Urganox.

"I do not think so," said Locmire.

"I am with Locmire. I do not think this is the person we are looking for," Lot added.

"Golgar," said Locmire.

He stopped and answered, "Yes?"

"How long has this Dainty been King?" asked the Wizard.

"King?" Golgar paused as he thought about the time frame. "Eh, a few-"

"Golgar!" the King called out. "Who approaches the royal throne? Come closer."

Golgar motioned for the group to follow him. As they approached the throne, the King was even more despicable than they had imagined. The stench of his unbathed body and the frequent emissions of gas coming from the King made it laborious to take a breath. Locmire had never met the current Daintish King, but he was certain that this creature sitting on the throne was not the Dainty they had come to enlist in the war against Hasbarie.

# Chapter 27

# The Broken Lamien

Red hurriedly approached the Broken Lamien pub, nearly falling several times; anticipation was getting the better of him. As he scurried toward the wooden revolving doors, a tiny Dainty came flying out of the establishment, landing face first on the hard pizenore street.

"And stay out, you little cheat!" bellowed a burly Dainty.

Dis be's me kind of place, Red thought. He stepped over the ejected patron and swung open the doors. Upon entering the pub, all activity ceased. Everyone turned toward the strange surface walker who had just entered their place of drink. Red was one of the only outsiders that had entered the Daintish city since the Great War. Red stood still as hundreds of beady eyes sat fixed upon him. He decided he would break the uncomfortable silence.

"Me hears ye got da best drink in all of Pizenchaffe. Whur can me gets a tankard of yer finest?"

Immediately the place came back to life. Red made his way over to the bar, noticing the hundreds of small tables and chairs scattered about the pub in no particular pattern. At several of the tables, a type of card game was being played that reminded Red of poker. Gold coins were piled high upon the tables, and tempers were flaring, a high stakes game indeed. Everywhere Red looked, a Dainty lay passed out at a table or in a corner. Deez lil men sure like da drink, Red thought.

"What will it be?" asked the bald headed, black bearded bar keep.

"A tankard of yur best drink, me good man," said Red merrily.

"Two bronze coins," said the bar keep blandly.

Red pulled a coin purse from his side and slid the bar keep two copper pieces.

I hopes dey take dis kind of coin, Red thought.

The bar keep looked at the copper very strangely. It was evident that he had never seen coins like these before. He took the copper pieces and bit down on them very hard.

"I don't know what type of material these are made from. I have never laid eyes upon coins such as these. I will take them," he said as he filled the tankard to the brim, not spilling one drop of the precious golden fluid.

"Dey be much more valuable dan gold," Red said with a smile on his face.

Red snatched the drink up in his hand, noticing the head of the drink, not too much, not too little. He turned the tankard up and gulped it down ravenously.

"Keep em comin, me good man," Red said as he slid twenty more copper coins the bar keeps way.

After he guzzled down several tankards of the best drink he had ever tasted, Red decided it was time to check out the rest of the pub. He bobbed and swayed his way through the obstacle course of tables and the stumbling, waist high patrons. He was like a new born calf; he could hardly keep his legs under him. The Daintish drink had really taken hold of him. It had been a long time since he had felt this lack of control over his own body. Red did not like to get to this state. He always liked to stay in control over himself. Bad things can happen to a person when they no longer have control over their own body. Red had seen this happen often in his travels. He decided it would be a good idea to take a seat and begin the rather dull process of becoming sober.

The drunken Pirate found an empty table and lowered himself down onto a child-like stool and rested his head upon his arms. His imminent slumber was soon disturbed as a stout Dainty plopped down beside him. Red picked his head up off of the table and glared at the uninvited guest.

"You sure do know how to put em down, surface walker," said the stranger.

"Aye, it be's a very good drink. Hard to stop once ye start," said Red.

"That is my problem, friend. The name is Oggy," the Dainty said as he extended his large hand.

Red took his hand and said, "Cap'n Red Maher of the Sagging Hag."

As the two shook hands, Red could not help but to take notice of the fact that Oggy's hand engulfed his own.

Oggy had short, matted brown hair and a matching beard that extended a foot below his chin. He was wearing a decorative pizenore suit of armor; a matching war hammer was slung across his back. Oggy's tired brown eyes complimented his weary, wrinkled face.

"What brings you down here to this dump, friend?" Oggy asked.

Red chuckled, "Me and me crew be on an important mission. Tooks me a lil detour eer to clear me thoughts."

"Good of a place as any I suppose," Oggy replied.

"That it is," said the Pirate as he sat upright.

"I have always wanted to venture to the surface. You know, just to see what the sun looks like. I have heard stories of it. It sounds wonderful," said Oggy.

"Dat it be me wee friend," Red said as he comically tried to cure a bad case of double vision.

Oggy looked as he had just been smacked in the face. "Easy throwing that small talk around down here, friend. Most of my kind do not think well of it, but I know you mean no harm."

"Apologies me good man," Red said as he motioned a bar maid over to their table. "Anudder round for me and me new friend." He reconsidered his statement. "Make dat two rounds."

The new acquaintances quickly dispatched of the tankards of drink. Oggy ordered up another couple of rounds. The two sat and drank like horses at a desert oasis, laughing and sharing tales of battle and women, matters in which they both seemed to be well versed. Red was happy. This was the first time since he had come to this land that he did not have to repeat himself. Oggy understood every word that came from his mouth.

Their palaver was cut short by a sudden disturbance at the pub's entrance. Red looked up to see three angry Dainties burst through the front doors.

The one in the front said, "There he is at the back of the bar with the surface walker."

The three Dainties marched forward toward Red and Oggy.

"This could be trouble, my friend. I must ask you to leave for your safety's sake," Oggy said to Red as he pushed the table away from them.

"Never," said Red. "Me never leaves a drinkin friend to da krakens. Consider yur back safe. Sides, deez scallywags do not look all dat tough."

Oggy had no time to reply. The three Dainties were now just mere feet away.

"There you are, coward. We have been looking for you," said the red headed Dainty named Olaf.

"You are a disgrace to the Stonefist name. Everything your kin folk stood for, gone!" exclaimed the other blonde haired Dainty named Erimack.

"We are here to make you remember your lineage, one way or another," said the black haired one named Zulp.

"Listen here you three," Oggy said as he stood up. "We have already discussed this, and there is nothing left to discuss. Be gone with you."

"Time for talking is over, Oggy," Erimack said.

"We gave you plenty of time to make things right," said Olaf.

"This is for your own good," said Zulp.

The four Dainties all drew their weapons.

"Arrr," said Red as he pulled himself up from the table. "Me tinks ye lil men are bitin off more dan ye can chew."

"Little men, eh?" asked Olaf.

"Watch who you are calling little, fellow," said Zulp.

"A surface walker . . . in our home . . . is calling us little," said Erimack with a hate filled look in his eyes.

Red calmly drew his pistol, pointed it at the wooden handle of Erimack's axe and squeezed the trigger. The hammer collided with the firing mechanism, igniting the powder, and sent a lead ball propelling out of the barrel. The ball connected flush with its target, shattering the wooden shaft of the axe. The rapport filled the ears of every soul in the pub. The heavy pizenore head of the axe plummeted downward and sank into the wooden table. The pub was once again silent. No one made a move. All eyes were upon Red and his strange device that had just produced thunder and lightning.

The four Dainties next to Red stood in awe at what had just happened. Red swayed a little, still feeling the effects of the potent drink he had consumed.

He said, "Me tinks we should all sit down, have anudder drink, and chit chat dis mess out bafore someone gets keel hauled. Pub wench!" Red motioned to the tiny waitress. "Anudder round of drinks for me and me friends."

Red plopped down like the falling head of the axe onto the small chair underneath him. A loud pop rang out as the tiny chair gave under the pressure of his dead weight. Laughter erupted throughout the pub. Even the four Dainties, who, moments ago, were ready to wage war with one another, began to laugh uncontrollably. After the laughter subsided, the Dainties looked at each other and took a seat. Tension was thick in the air. It was quite possibly the most uncomfortable situation in which Red had ever been, and he had certainly been in some uncomfortable situations before. He decided he had to do something, or they might soon be on the brink of war once more.

"Me knows exactly what we needs," Red said with a smile on his face.

# Chapter 28

# The Royal Treatment

"Announce yourselves!" the King demanded as he ripped the last bite of meat away from a large bone and discarded it to the side.

"My name is Locmire of Fogarth, and these are my companions, Lot Caskill of Galdarath and King Urganox Skullsplitter of Morgorath."

Both Lot and Urganox nodded their heads as they were introduced.

"My name is King Festus Rottenback. Welcome to Pizenchaffe, travelers. Make yourselves at home," said the King, spreading his arms wide to show a warm, receptive greeting.

"King Rottenback, we thank you for your hospitality, but we will only be staying for a short time," said Locmire.

"Oh," replied the King. "Why so?"

"We are on an important quest, my King," said Locmire.

Rottenback did not acknowledge Locmire's last statement. His attention was focused on Urganox.

"King Urganox, eh? It seems that we have not had the pleasure of meeting until now," he chuckled. "I have not had the pleasure of meeting any of the other kings of the lands. Please sit down and tell me of the affairs of the surface."

It was easily noticed that Urganox did not care for Rottenback. A look of disgust was painted on his face, and if that was not enough, the grinding of his teeth when addressed by the slob of a King said it all.

"Perhaps in time we will have a proper meeting, King Rottenback, but for now we are looking for an individual we believe to reside in Pizenchaffe," said King Urganox.

"Oh?" Festus said questioningly. "And who would that be?"

Locmire said, "A Dainty by the name of Oggius Stonefist. Do you know where we may find him?"

All signs of cordiality were rapidly erased from Rottenback's face. His guards took arms and stepped forward. He waved them to halt with his grease covered hand.

"Although I do not like our guest's intentions, we will still extend our hospitality to the Wizard and the Brazurkin King," said Rottenback.

His guards returned to their positions.

"Wise decision," said Urganox.

"Why do you seek, Oggius Stonefist?" Festus asked.

Before Locmire could answer, Urganox spoke, "That is none of your concern. Tell us where to find him so we can take leave. The sight of you turns my stomach."

"You should watch your tongue! You are a guest in my kingdom. I would hate to remove my hand of hospitality," said the fat Dainty as he stood, with great effort, from his throne.

"I welcome it," said Urganox as the grinding of his teeth became ever louder.

"Apologies," said Locmire. "King Urganox has just been confronted with a major travesty. His emotions run high."

Festus plopped back down on the throne.

"My King," said Locmire as he bowed slightly. "Can you tell us of the whereabouts of Oggius Stonefist?"

The fat King sat in private debate, mulling over his response.

"The disgraced King is probably doing what he does best. Falling over drunk somewhere. I would start by searching the local pubs," said Rottenback.

"Thank you, my King. If you do not mind me asking, what exactly happened to Oggius? I thought that only a Stonefist could hold the throne of Pizenchaffe?" asked Locmire.

"I do mind you asking!" roared the King. "But I will tell you all the same if it will make you take leave from here. Oggius was removed from the throne because he was unfit to lead. He was the last living member of the Stonefist clan, so the government council had to select a new King. I was the only one found worthy."

"I don't know if I want to meet King Stonefist if he was more unfit to rule than this pathetic excuse for a king," Lot said to Urganox.

Upon hearing this statement Festus became enraged.

"I have grown tired of your insults. You come into my kingdom and insult me while I sit upon my throne! Guards, seize these men!" ordered the Rottenback as he pointed at the trio before him.

A round Daintish guard ran straight for Urganox. Urganox drew back his leg and met the Dainty's chest with his large foot. The guard went flying through the air and crashed into the wall. Two more guards charged straight at Lot. He jumped into the air and flipped behind them. He landed, quickly turned and violently slammed their heads together, crumpling the stout warriors to the ground. The last guard ran at Locmire, but the Wizard stood his ground, not moving an inch. When the Dainty got within range, Locmire extended his staff, striking the Dainty hard in the throat. The guard's knees instantaneously became like that of jelly, and he fell to the floor. Before Festus could call for more reinforcements, Urganox seized him by the throat and hoisted him high into the air.

"You disgust me," said Urganox as he pulled the crown from Rottenback's oily head. The Brazurkin stared long and hard into the unworthy King's eyes. The grinding of Urganox's teeth could now be heard even louder by his companions. "You are a disgrace. You tarnish the name of king. I should end your pathetic life right now!"

"That is enough, Urganox," said Locmire.

Urganox looked at Locmire and then back at the Daintish King. He released his grip, and Festus fell hard to the ground.

"We will take leave now, my King. I am sorry for the unpleasantness. I do appreciate your help," said the Wizard as he turned his back and began to walk away.

Urganox looked down at Rottenback and said, "I am keeping this!" holding the crown in front of Rottenback's face. "You do not deserve to wear it."

Urganox took the crown and followed Locmire out of the castle. Golgar stood terror struck as the three travelers strode past.

Lot stopped and said to Golgar, "I feel sorry for you if you claim this man as your King."

Golgar was speechless.

The travelers left the castle and began to make their way back to the Broken Lamien to rejoin Red. They had to move quickly because they had just assaulted the King, and even though he was not a respectable king, he was still a king, and a line had been crossed that should not have been.

# Chapter 29

# Escape

They quickly made their way back to the pub, for they knew trouble was soon to follow. As they approached the Broken Lamien, a loud commotion was coming from inside. Worry fell over their faces.

"It does not sound like our companion has fared much better in making friends," said Urganox.

"Let us hurry. From the commotion inside, I do believe he may be in need of our help right about now," Lot said as he found another speed to his step.

The three travelers burst through the front doors of the pub and were taken by surprise. The noise, which a moment ago seemed to be that of tempers flaring, was not that of anger at all, but of song. Every Dainty in the bar had a tankard of drink held high in the air and was swaying back and forth to the rhythm of the song. To their surprise, the conductor of this orchestra was none other than their old pal, Red.

The pub sang in unison, "Four bottles of beer on da wall, four bottles of beer. Take one down and pass it round, three bottles of beer on da wall. Three bottles of beer on da wall . . ."

Even with the Royal Guards of Pizenchaffe surely on their heels, they took a moment to absorb the situation. Red never ceased to amaze Locmire. The Pirate was considerably talented at making light of dire situations.

"Take one down and pass it round, no bottles of beer on da wall," finished Red.

The tiny drunken Dainties rang out in applause and cheers. Red stepped down from the table he had been standing on and was immediately embraced by dozens of small arms.

"Looks like he made a lot more friends than we did," said Lot.

"It seems so," replied Locmire.

"He is a likable person. Strange, but likable," Urganox added.

Red caught the eyes of his companions and yelled across the pub, "Ahoy! Come on over and enjoy a drink wiff me and me friends."

The trio pushed their way through the crowd to where Red sat.

"Ahh, me mates. Sat yur bottums down and have a cold drink. Best in Pizenchaffe it is."

Four Dainties sitting at Red's table hoisted their drinks high in the air and toasted one another.

"Red, we must go, now," said Locmire.

The drunkenness upon on Red's face suddenly disappeared. It seemed he had not drank a single drop, even though his breath said otherwise.

"Me will asks questions later, but thar be somethin ye needs to know."

"Yes," replied Locmire.

"See dis lil Dainty here," He said pointing at Oggy. "Me tinks him be da Dainty we be's lookin fur."

Locmire turned to Oggy. "Are you Oggius Stonefist?" he asked.

"Yes I am. And who might you be, stranger?" he returned.

"I am Locmire of Fogarth, and I have come to seek your assistance. Our time is limited so I must ask that you come with us immediately. I would explain more to you, but it seems that we have crossed King Rottenback. I fear our time of leisure is limited."

Red added, "It be's vury important, friend."

"All right," Oggy said reluctantly. "I will go with you, but only to hear you out."

Suddenly the front doors of the pub burst open again. It was Golgar. He made his way over to Locmire. Sweat was rolling down his brow. It seemed that he had run all the way to the Broken Lamien. His arms were full of the weapons that he had previously confiscated from Locmire and his group.

"You must leave now. The King sends his army. Not just a few of his guard, but all of them," Golgar panted.

He met eyes with Oggius. An awkward stare occurred between the two Dainties.

"I am sorry, my King. I was only fulfilling my duties. You are still the true heir to the throne, to me and many others," Golgar said as he bowed to Oggius.

"Off your knees, Golgar. I am not your King, you need not bow to me," said Oggy.

"I hate to cut this short, but we really need to be going right about now," said Lot as he motioned to the door.

Dozens of tiny warriors were piling into the pub, all armed and very angry.

"My King," said Golgar. "Follow me. I know of a way out. It leads into the depths of Pizenchaffe. They do not dare follow us there."

Oggy nodded.

"Follow us! Golgar knows of a way out," Oggius exclaimed.

Olaf, Erimack, and Zulp said together, "We follow you as well, our King!"

"Very well," said Oggy.

The party made their way to the back of the pub. The sounds of the guards were drowning out the merry little Dainties who were still very wound up after Red's song. They were frantically searching for the surface walkers who had just attacked the King and his trusted guards. In the last room of the pub, Golgar pulled loose a plank from the floor. It hid a large square shaft that led down into the darkness. A wooden rung ladder was fixed to the side of the shaft.

"Follow me," Golgar said.

Golgar made his way down the shaft, and the rest of the group followed closely behind. Lot had an uneasy feeling about this forgotten shaft and where it may take them. As he began to descend the wobbly wooden ladder, a sudden feeling of worry fell over him. He was not sure, but he felt like Thaddeus was very angry over something. He did not know that Thaddeus's party members were on the verge of war with one another. Even though Lot had experienced these visions before, it was odd having a face to go along with the mysterious voice. It was strange to realize that these flashes which had haunted him all of his life were linked to his newly discovered brother. He thought to himself, I cannot believe it. I have been connected to my brother all along, but never opened my mind enough to know him. He stood with a foot on the top rung of the ladder for a brief moment, hoping to learn more of Thaddeus and his present situation, but nothing else came to him. The sounds of angry guards snapped him out of his trance, and he quickly descended the ladder, pulling the trap door shut behind him.

# Chapter 30

# The Dark Wizard

Four cloaked figures approached the swirling ball of blackness which was the Onock. The Onock had once again made its home in Calencia. It is hard to say what the surrounding area looked like before the Onock reappeared since no one had ventured into the lands west of the Arplasia Mountains in a very long time. Now, the entire land was dark and void of life. Thorn bushes and thickets had overtaken the landscape. The pungent smell of rotten flesh was strong in the air. There were no signs of life from the entrance at the narrow pass of the Arplasia Mountains all the way to the northern border where the Onock had staked claim to a vacant lot. It seemed that the sun did not even shine on this particular plot of land.

The four figures approached the Onock and fell to their knees, touched their heads to the ground, and waited. The Onock began to hum as the dust around the four men began to swirl. A narrow slit opened up in the middle of the Onock, and a black mist crept out surrounding them. In the blink of an eye, they were gone.

The inside of the Onock was much different than the outside. The floor was soft and squishy, the walls and ceiling pulsed as if they were alive. All about the floor, fleshy remains were strewn here and there. The decaying body parts did not make an ideal walking surface, but it sufficed.

The four figures stumbled through the Onock following a winding corridor. The corridor led to the center of the black circular grave. The room opened up revealing a large chamber with a throne that sat at the center atop a set of stairs. This staircase was not made of stone or wood, but of intertwined bodies. The throne itself was rather large and constructed entirely of severed body parts. It sat upon the feet and ankles of what appeared to be four different men. The arms were long and slender with a road map of black veins crisscrossing throughout. Attached were clinched, wrinkled hands from which grew dark yellow nails so long that they curled under at the tips. Hasbarie sat upon the grotesque faces of half a dozen men, their horrified expressions forever preserved in a mismatch of organs and bones woven together to create a seat worthy of a maniacal necromancer.

The four figures approached the throne and fell to their knees once more. Hasbarie was slouching on his throne with his legs sprawled out and head hanging to his chest. The Dark Wizard did not look up but did speak to his guests.

"What has taken so long? I sent for the four of you over a day ago," he said as he slowly looked up. "Do you take me as a man who likes to be kept waiting?"

One of the men spoke, "No my Lord, but the trip here was treacherous."

Another man chimed in, "We almost came face to face with King Thaddeus and his two companions, but we were able to hide in the forest beside the road. As soon as it was safe we made our way to the portation stone."

Hasbarie straightened himself up on his throne.

"So you hid?" Hasbarie said as he leaned forward looking down on the men. "You are cowards! If you had killed the King then and there, my reign would have already begun!"

The men cowered at the booming voice hovering above them.

"My . . . my. . ." the third man took a deep breath. "My Lord, we did not want to risk ourselves being captured, or even worse. We know the importance of our purpose. We did not want to chance the King taking our lives and the objects we possess. Our focus was set upon reaching the portation stone and arriving here to do your bidding. "

Hasbarie shot up from his throne. He was tall and slender, with skin the color of lifeless flesh. Black veins pulsed over his entire body. The Dark Wizard was wearing only a pair of black britches and boots. His eyes were an empty abyss. In the center of his chest was a melon sized hole which once housed a swirling crystal orb.

He drew a staff, which resembled an arm, from beside his throne and pointed it at the third man. The man flew up into the air and screamed in pain. He was suspended high above the floor with a black mist encircling him.

"How did it come to pass that such cowards as yourselves became my Dark Priests?" He raised the screaming man even higher. "You fear laying your life down for me, even knowing that I have complete control over death. You sicken me!"

"My Lord!" said the last man. "We do not fear death. We do not hesitate to sacrifice ourselves for you, but we did not want to risk the King getting his hands on the parts of the crystal."

Hasbarie considered this point of view. He cocked his bald, vein ridden head to the side, taking a good look at the man suspended in the air.

"Wise decision," he said as he turned and went back to his throne.

The suspended man fell hard to the appendage covered floor. Hasbarie sat back down, resuming his poor sitting posture.

"With the help of the Wizard, the King has foiled my plans on two separate occasions," he said as he repositioned himself once again. "It was wise that you decided not to face him just yet. The time will come when you will confront these overconfident would-be heroes, but that time is not now."

"Lord Hasbarie," said the first man. "What shall you have us do?"

"The time is not at hand for me to take the reins of Calencia. We must first deal with the Saviors. You must protect the four parts of the crystal at all costs. As you know, without the original parts of the crystal, they cannot reach me. No doubt they will soon be seeking the crystals. You must go into hiding until I summon you. You must protect the crystals."

"Yes, our Lord," said one of the men.

"My Lord?" asked another man. "Would it not be safer for the four of us to just stay here until the time is right?"

Rage grew on the Necromancers face.

"You fool!" he shouted as he once again rose from his throne. "While the four of you are in here with the crystals, anyone has free access to me. You must separate, and keep the crystals far apart."

"Yes, our Lord," said the belittled man.

"Leave from here now!" he exclaimed. "I will provide you with protection once you choose your destination."

The men stood up and quickly began to leave.

"Do not fail me! If you do not keep the crystals from the Wizard and his miscreants, death will be the least of your worries!"

The four men quickly exited the Onock, making their way back to the pass leading away from the former home of the Gargantuans. The horrors they passed as they departed from the Onock made the Dark Priests a bit uneasy, and this was not facilely accomplished, considering the quantity of evil that filled their souls. There was just something about standing beside a creature and being eye level with its ankle that could make even the most hardened person uncomfortable.

When they had cleared the pass and were back onto the road connecting Morgorath and Fogarth, a black force field sprung up sealing the pass leading to the Onock. The men discussed their plans for a moment and then made their separate ways to go into hiding until Hasbarie required their services once more.

# Chapter 31

# Beneath Mt. Pizenchaffe

"Arrr! Ye steppin on me foot!" exclaimed Red.

"I cannot help it. I usually work well in the dark, but this is a different kind of darkness," said Lot.

The sound that one makes when their toes are being stamped upon echoed throughout the pitch black underground lair. It seemed that Lot was not the only one having troubles.

"Get off me you lump!" said Erimack.

"I am not on you," replied Olaf.

"No, but you are on me," cried Zulp.

The sounds of a scuffle immediately followed.

"Everyone, remain calm," said Locmire as he held his staff high in the air. In an instant the underground labyrinth was illuminated.

"Much better," Golgar added.

Everyone's eyes slowly adjusted to the piercing light only to find the three Dainties intertwined, doing their best to inflict bodily harm upon one another.

Oggius roared out with laughter, "And to think, for a brief moment I was worried about these three getting the best of me." He erupted with laughter again. "I have seen court fools put on a more threatening performance."

With this comment, the three Dainties ceased their squabble at once and then burst out into merry laughter.

"Not to ruin a good time," Lot said, looking upwards at the hidden door from which they had just descended, "but I think we need to be a little more concerned about the large group of angry little men who pursue us."

Everyone froze.

"Right," said Golgar.

"Not to worry," said Locmire as he aimed his staff at the door. "This should keep them off of our trail for a time."

A light slowly floated from the end of his staff. The light struck its target and a red translucent door appeared underneath the wooden one.

"What kind of magic is this, Wizard?" asked Urganox.

"The kind that will keep unwanted guests out," replied Locmire modestly.

"Uh huh," the Brazurkin replied.

Oggius began to wander around. It appeared that he was looking for something. The other four Dainties joined in the search.

"What are they doing?" asked Urganox.

"Seem ta be lookin fur sumpin."

"They are funny little men. Are they not?" Urganox asked.

"They are rather peculiar. As most of us would seem if we had been living under a rock for the past 500 years," said Lot.

"Ah!" exclaimed Oggius. "Found it."

The ousted Daintish King pressed his large hand against a small button on the wall. A hissing sound began to race away from where they stood and zipped off in the distance, leaving a trial of light in its path. There was a groove cut through the entire length of the wall. Lantern- like structures were strategically placed in these foot high offsets. The entire under-underground dwelling became brightly lit. Although a bright red light now filled the old corridors, this place still had a dark, dangerous feel to it.

"These halls may not be as beautiful as the world above us, but for many years, they were the home place of the Dainties," said Oggius.

"This is true," Golgar said as he began to, once again, provide useless information to the surface dwelling guests. "Dainties roamed these very halls for many a years. At least until we discovered the Pizenore vein that runs above us."

"Once the valuable benefit of Pizenore was discovered, there was no need to stay down here surrounded by these stone walls," Zulp added.

"Is there a way out of here?" asked Locmire.

Olaf answered, "Oh sure, there is a way out somewhere, but who knows where. These old Daintish ruins are very large and mostly unmapped for the last few hundred years."

"Been a lot of cave-ins down here recently. Most of the routed paths have been blocked off," Erimack said, noticing a slight sign of panic on Red's face. "No need to worry though, Golgar is the best pathfinder in all of Pizenchaffe. We are lucky he is with us."

The look of concern on Red's face lightened. The Pirate thought, this be no place for a lan luvar, let alone a sea luvar ta be. Least we haves arselfs a guide.

"Before we set out, Oggius," Locmire said as he leaned against the stone wall. "I think we should discuss the reason why we are here and the reason you are no longer king."

Oggius squared his shoulders to Locmire and said, "Call me Oggy. All of my friends do."

"Very well, Oggy" replied the Wizard.

"Guess we should start with you and your very, uh . . . variety of travelers," said Oggy.

Locmire introduced his entourage and once again spun the tale of the prophecy and the Dark Wizard. He did not add any new information that Lot or Red had not heard previously. He also informed the Dainty that there was a part of the prophecy that he could not divulge at this time. Oggy had become like a statue for a few moments. He did not move or speak. His mind was working hard, processing the abundance of information Locmire had just supplied.

"Well then, if what you say is true, this will not be a hard decision." Oggy paused. "I will fight alongside you and your men, just as my ancestors before me did."

"Excellent," said Locmire.

"Excellent," said the other four Dainties in unison. "We will fight alongside you, King Stonefist. Till the death!"

Locmire quickly added, "While your intentions are well received, and I am sure your services will be greatly needed, Oggy must go at this alone."

Anger boiled to the surface of their skin.

"And why might that be?" asked Golgar.

"This is the way the prophecy revealed it to me. The reason, I do not know," replied Locmire.

A look of bewilderment overcame the four Dainties. After a moment Golgar said, "All right. If it is part of the prophecy, then it is part of the prophecy. I am not one to argue with that."

The three other Dainties murmured in agreement.

Lot found Golgar's statement extremely amusing and let out a hearty laugh. Urganox even managed to let out a cheerful grunt, the best that could have been expected from a warrior Brazurkin.

"Well," Oggy said as he plopped down to the hard ground. "Guess it is time for my part of the tale. It is not as glamorous as the story you just told, but I assume it must come out sooner or later, might as well be sooner."

The entire party took a seat on the stone floor and listened intently to Oggy's story.

"Not much to tell really. Up until a month or so ago, I was the King of Pizenchaffe. As it is my rightful duty, being a Stonefist and all."

"Hear hear!" cheered Olaf.

Oggy shot him a look and continued, "There had been some reports of unusual activity going on down here, cave-ins and unexplained noises. So, like any king would do, I sent an expedition crew down to check it out. My son, Biddle, lead the expedition. He was the head of the guard and next in line for the throne."

He stopped, retrieved a bladder from his side and took a large swig. His face tightened. He shook his head side to side several times and offered the bladder to Red, who graciously accepted.

"They never returned. I sent another group, twice as large as the original to find my son and his men. They did not return either."

The other four Dainties began to shake their lowered heads.

"We had a meeting, and it was decided that no other search parties should venture underground. I was devastated, but I held out hope. After a few weeks, my grief overtook me, and I began to drink, heavily. Soon, it was decided that I was unfit to rule and Festus, through political corruption, was appointed acting king. His first act as king was to permanently seal off the entrance to where the missing Dainties had gone. My anguish grew even more and so did my drinking habit. I tried to appeal to his logical side and have him reopen the passage so I could go and search for the missing expedition crews myself."

"How did that go?" asked Lot.

"Ha!" he laughed. "Let us just say he had trouble shutting his jaw for a few days. Festus, after much protest from the citizens of Pizenchaffe, decided not to execute me, but rather ban me from ever entering the palace again. That leads us up to this point. A slob sits on my throne, my son is still missing, and I am drunker than ever."

Everyone sat with a look of empathy on their faces. Oggy looked around at everyone, wanting someone to end the uncomfortable silence. He finally decided to break it himself.

"I told you my story was not very glamorous."

"It is a tragic tale my friend," Locmire said as he stood up. "But rest assured, after we accomplish what we are destined to do, the Stonefist name will be restored."

Oggy's eyes lit up. He stood tall, tall as a Dainty could stand, and said, "Yes. You are right. I will restore my family's name by saving the entire world. Let us get out of this ruined place and take care of the things that need to be taken care of."

"Wait just a minute!" said Erimack as he bolted up to his feet. "You cannot leave the kingdom in the hands of the hog that sits on the throne now. You must redeem yourself."

"Festus is destroying Pizenchaffe. You must do something," added Zulp.

"Or do we have to beat some sense into you as we had planned a short time ago in the Broken Lamien?" asked Olaf.

"Aye! Me tinks we done came to terms dat thar be's no beatin goin on while me still has breath in me body. If me no longer threatens ye, maybe me large green friend here can," Red blurted out.

Urganox stepped forward, hovering over the tiny Dainties.

"If you think we are scared of a walking goat, then you have another thing coming," Olaf said as he poked Urganox in the thigh with his large finger.

Every muscle in Urganox's body tightened.

"What did you say, brownie?" Urganox asked.

This seemed to really light a fire under the three Dainties. A brownie is a very tiny, mischievous creature that lives in the forest. Historically, Dainties hate to be referred to as brownies.

"You heard him, Goat King," Zulp added.

"Enough!" roared Oggy. "We already have enough problems without a small scale war breaking out."

The Dainties backed down slightly, muttering insults toward Urganox under their breath. Urganox loosened his grip on the flail that he was only seconds away from unleashing on the tiny men.

If Oggius had not been here, you three would surely be dead at this moment. I will not disrespect a king in his own land, no matter how good it would make me feel to spill your brains, Urganox thought.

"I understand your concerns my friends, but there are more pressing matters at hand," said Oggy.

"But what if there was a way to reclaim your throne before you set off?" asked Golgar.

Oggy looked at him. His eyes told Golgar to continue.

"What if on the way out of here, we could happen to find out what happened to the expedition team and the search party? What if we find the cause of the unrest down here and put an end to it? Surely that would be enough to regain your throne."

"Yes," said Locmire. "This sounds like a very good idea. I do believe we should pursue this course."

"We can search these ruins from one end to another. I will gladly help," added Lot.

"Arrr! So will me," said Red.

Urganox grunted and nodded his head.

"We are in agreement," said Locmire.

Tears began to build in Oggy's eyes. Two plump beads of water raced down the Dainties chubby cheeks.

"Thank you, my friends. Your eagerness to help has lifted my spirits. Let us go now," Oggy said as he sucked down a moist gulp of air through his nose.

"I will lead the way," Golgar said.

Golgar had taken only a few steps down the corridor when he turned to address the group once more. It was at this moment that Lot screamed out, "Golgar! For the life of you, do not move."

Golgar looked down to see that his child like boot had just triggered a pressure plate in the floor. He had stepped into an ancient Daintish trap, and he knew that the Dainties of old took their traps very seriously.

# Chapter 32

# Disturbed Slumber

Thaddeus and his companions had traveled only a few hours west of Lasticall when a blanket of darkness began to cover the land. They decided that it would not be wise to continue traveling after sunset so they agreed upon setting up camp in the forest. Since departing from Lasticall, they had been trekking in the forests between the main road and the Dead Lands. This way was most likely the more dangerous path, but it would knock at least a day off of their journey. The main roads were laid as far as possible from the Dead Lands, often times taking lengthy detours around natural obstacles. It was considerably colder the closer they traveled near the Dead Lands. The night air was very crisp, and the cold nipped at their exposed skin. Rasmere was the only one who did not seem to mind the cool night air.

They agreed upon setting up camp underneath the face of a cliff near the river. With their backs against the high cliff, there was one less direction they needed to guard. This was not the most ideal place to set up camp, but it offered more protection than any other place they had come across.

Rasmere ventured out in the forest to gather food for the group. River was placing protective spells around their camp to prevent any unwanted intruders. Caleb, in the form of an owl, was soaring through the night air looking for signs of life. Azonis and Thaddeus surveyed the lay of the land looking for escape routes and vantage points, in case trouble came at them during the night. After everyone had performed their duties, they rejoined around a toasty camp fire that River had conjured.

"I never knew that deer meat was so delicious," River muttered with a mouth full of food. "Maybe its because I haven't eaten since this morning."

"It is delicious," Thaddeus said as he took another big bite of the tender back strap. "Thank you, Rasmere."

"You are welcome. It was a young deer, very tender," Rasmere replied.

Azonis gave thanks to Rasmere for his much appreciated meal, but the Forest Engenium did not respond to the Sestian's kind gesture. Thaddeus could easily sense the tension between the Engeniums. A simpleton could have noticed it. As they were finishing their meal, Caleb swooped back down beside the fire and transformed back into his human form.

"Remarkable," said Azonis.

"I have seen him do that on numerous occasions, and it is just as amazing as it was the first time," said River.

"Anyone nearby?" asked the King.

"Nearest life, other than animals, is at least three leagues away. A small village next to the road," Caleb said as he picked up a portion of the roasted deer meat. "If anyone, or thing, is out there, they are hidden very well."

"At last, a bit of good news. We should turn in before too much longer. I suspect the days ahead of us will be trying," said Thaddeus.

Azonis nodded in agreement and added, "I am sure they will be. I can only imagine the lengths that Hasbarie will go to in order to prevent us from doing whatever it is that needs to be done."

"Let him try and stop us. We will destroy anything that he puts in our path," Thaddeus replied.

"I wonder how Locmire and the others are doing?" Caleb asked.

"They should be getting close to Mt. Pizenchaffe. It is only a little over a day's ride away from Galdarath. If they traveled through part of the night, they will surely reach the mountain soon," Thaddeus responded, not knowing that Locmire and the others were currently held up in a cozy little inn.

"Do you really believe that the Dainties still exist?" Azonis asked.

"I am quite sure of it. Locmire believes them to still be living, and Lot claims that he has visited their city recently," the King replied.

"I wonder why they have not tried to make contact with any of the other kingdoms?" Azonis questioned.

"Why should they? They do not need anything from us, and their last interaction with the surface lead to the deaths of almost all of their civilization," Thaddeus answered.

Azonis stroked his long chin and said, "True."

After their stomachs were engorged, they discussed their quest. River and Caleb told of their enlistment into Locmire's group. Thaddeus went into more depth regarding the events that had taken place at Galdarath, and Azonis shared of the killer boar's bloody rampage. Rasmere sat quietly on a fallen tree listening to the forest.

The fire was roaring in the pitch black night. The heat from the blaze was just enough to knock the nip out of the air. Even though they were out in the open, exposed, there was just something about a camp fire that made everyone feel a little safer. The night lingered on, and their time of fellowship grew to an end. Everyone, except for Rasmere, turned in for the night. He was appointed first watch. Thaddeus was comforted knowing that the Forest Engenium would be on lookout. Rasmere was very perceptive, and he did not take his mind off of his current task.

It did not take long for the group to find slumber. It had been a trying day. The battle for Lasticall was the most arduous battle in which the warriors had ever been. Their bodies, as well as their spirits, were weary. They all slept well. Rasmere had only been on watch for an hour's time when, CRACK, he heard a twig snap to his left. He slowly turned his eyes, not wanting to alert whatever was lurking in the darkness to the fact that he was aware of its presence.

CRACK!

Another twig snapped to his right.

He slowly got up and tossed another log on the fire. He tried to act as natural as possible, a difficult task for one not accustomed to the craft. He took a long stick and prodded the fire for a short time before making his way to where his dreaming companions lie.

"Thaddeus," he said softly. "Thaddeus," he said once more, this time giving the King a slight nudge with his fur boot.

Thaddeus's eyelids shot open. His hand instinctively found its way to his axe.

"It is time to wake," Rasmere said calmly. "It seems that we are no longer alone."

# Chapter 33

# The Trap

Lot pushed himself back to his feet, dusting off the front of his clothes. "It is a very deadly trap, and it is set with a hair trigger. I suggest you do not move," said the Thief.

A loud gulp came from deep within Golgar's throat.

"You seem very knowledgeable of traps. Can you free him?" asked Oggius.

Lot nodded his head. "It is a rather advanced trap." He paused. "But I think I understand the disarming mechanism."

"Well then, if you don't mind, I would like to get out of this as soon as possible," replied Golgar.

"Everyone may want to back up a few hundred feet," Lot said as he motioned the crowd away.

"A few hundred feet?" asked Erimack.

"Yes, unless you would like to assist me in removing him from this trap. Keep in mind that if it goes off, there will be a loud boom," replied the Thief.

Erimack slowly started backing away.

"Locmire," Lot said.

"Yes, Lot," replied the Wizard.

"Anything you can do to provide a little extra protection?" asked the Thief.

"I am sure that I can come up with something," replied the Wizard.

Lot nodded his head and made his way back onto his stomach at the feet of Golgar. When Lot was ready, Locmire pointed his staff at the Thief and the terrified Dainty. A blue orb appeared and surrounded the two.

"This should keep the blast contained," said Locmire.

"The blast contained?" Golgar asked. "You act as if you know this thing is going to explode! Tell me what you know, Wizard! Was this in the prophecy?"

Locmire said with an honest smile, "All is well my friend. There is no prophecy that I know of involving you exploding. I was only speaking of the worst case scenario."

Golgar considered this for a moment and then nodded his head at Locmire.

"Get it over with," said Golgar with a trembling voice.

Lot thought, I hope all is well. If this little Dainty blows up, so do I.

The Thief unrolled a tattered black cloth which contained his lock picking set. He took out his tumblers and snake rake. Carefully, he inserted the tumbler into a small slit at the base of the stone of which Golgar's foot had become quite fond. He slowly inched the snake rake deeper into the side of the stone, blindly prodding for the deactivation mechanism. I found it, he thought.

Giving the tumbler a good shove, a loud click came from underneath the stone. Golgar flinched slightly.

"You all right up there?" asked Lot.

"So far, so good. How goes it down there?" asked Golgar.

"I think I got it," replied Lot.

"Great!" Golgar exclaimed. "So I can get off of here now?"

"Not yet. We must do this together," said the Thief with the slightest sound of nervousness in his voice.

"What do I need to do?" asked Golgar.

"You must begin to raise your foot from the stone at the same time I pull the triggering mechanism back up. It is almost like I am rearming the trap. If you go too fast, or I go to slow," he paused. "Boom!" Even through all of the dirt on Golgar's face, Lot could tell that he had just turned white. "You just raise your foot at a nice and steady pace, and I will do the rest."

Golgar nodded.

"On the count of three. Are you ready?" asked Lot

"Yes," replied Golgar.

Lot began his count, "One . . . two-,"

"Wait!" Golgar shouted.

"By the Gods!" Lot exclaimed. "You could have just caused me to set this thing off."

"Do we go on three? Or is it one, two, three, go?" Golgar asked.

"We go on three," Lot replied as a bead of sweat jumped off the end of his nose. "One. . . two. . . three."

Golgar slowly began to pick his foot up. Lot was deep in concentration, trying to match the speed of Golgar's leg to that of his tumbler.

After what seemed like an eternity, Lot said, "Got it."

The blue orb disappeared and Golgar ran back toward the rest of the group and fell to the ground, rambling out blessings aimed at Lot.

"Arrr, he be's a good un ta have round!" Red said.

The Dainties came running to Lot and began to vigorously shake his hands.

"Very good, Lot," said Locmire.

"That was a very complex trap. I am sure there are more. Maybe it would be best if I lead from here on out," Lot suggested.

No one disagreed with him.

As they prepared to march forward, Urganox came to Lot.

"Good work, Thief. If it was I in your position, he would be still standing here a year from now," said the Brazurkin.

Chuckling, Lot said, "I enjoy the challenge. Besides, he may come in handy."

"Highly doubtful," said Urganox.

They regrouped and set forth into the unfamiliar homeland of the ancient Dainties.

# Chapter 34

# The Lamiens

The adventurers had walked miles in the under-underground city below Mt. Pizenchaffe. The trip was very dangerous due to the hidden traps that were concealed quite frequently along the ground, walls, and ceilings. Lot, however, spotted every single one of them. Locmire thought that Lot had to be the single most perceptive person he had ever encountered, but that was not saying much considering he had not met many people in his lifetime. After miles of narrow corridors and dead ends, they finally came into a large open area. This came as a big relief to Red who was trying his best to overcome his claustrophobia.

"Looks like we are in one of the old towns," said Golgar.

They were surrounded by broken buildings, homes and merchant shops. Every single structure was dilapidated and dust was thick on the ground. Locmire was frozen, his imagination ran rampant. He could just picture the tiny Dainties going about their daily lives. At one point in time, life had thrived down here. Now it was a picture void of life and times long forgotten. As he looked at the old armory, he could see the Daintish smith pounding out a blade with his large hammer. He could smell the aroma from the apothecary as the alchemist brewed up his elixirs and potions. The sound of squabbling Dainties came from within the old pub. Locmire imagined that he had the ghost town pictured perfectly in his mind.

Urganox walked over to a nearby wall and was examining a large, soft, clay-like statue standing in a cut out.

"Impressive. Is it not?" Oggy asked.

"What is it?" asked Urganox.

"That, my friend, is a Lamien. If you notice they are placed all around these walls," Oggy said, as he pointed out the other Lamiens that surrounded the city.

Urganox looked around at the ten foot tall clay statues. Their detail was impressive, so impressive that they almost seemed to be alive.

"What is their purpose?" asked the Brazurkin.

"In the old days, they were used as protection against the creatures that came from the bowels of the earth and plagued the city. They were the Dainties' primary form of protection for quite some time. Eventually, it came a time when the Lamiens became too much of a nuisance. They became unpredictable and at times would attack their Daintish makers. There was no foolproof way of controlling a Lamien," said Oggy.

The rest of the party came over to admire the clay protector.

"How do ye Dainties make sumpin like dat come ta life?" asked Red.

"I am not for certain. I have never actually seen one in real life until now. It was said that the souls of fallen Daintish warriors were captured and infused with the Lamiens," Oggy replied.

"Dat does not seem like a good way ta spend da rest of yer life. Once ye be keel hauled, ye should stay dat way."

"To these warriors, it was an honor to become a Lamien. It was the ultimate reward," said Golgar.

"Sounds like slavery to me," said Urganox.

Lot called for everyone to come to him so they could discuss the rest of their journey. Many objectives lay before them, but the main goal was to find a way to the surface. Locating the missing Dainties was also on the agenda, if the opportunity presented itself.

Locmire enjoyed seeing Lot take charge the way that he had been since becoming separated from his brother, Thaddeus. They would need a great leader if they were to make it to the surface alive, and although Locmire was good at convincing people to join the fight against Hasbarie, he was not a true leader. Sure, he was good at handing out orders to his subordinates back at Fogarth, but he was not at Fogarth, and he did not think it wise to start barking out orders at his present company.

Red was still standing in front of the Lamien, lost in its stare. For the life of him, he could not understand why any living thing would want to succumb to such a fate. As he was taken in by the Lamien's infectious gaze, something unexpected happened. Its eyes turned from clay to a haunting black. Red's own eyes seemed to double in size. What in da-. His thought was cut short as the Lamien raised its heavy arm and sent it crashing down toward the Pirate's head. Dust flew from the ground as Red rolled out of the way from its attack and drew his cutlasses. The others began to rush to the aid of their friend who was engaged in battle with the ancient guardian, but their path was blocked by the other eight Lamiens who had also sprung to life and were charging directly at them.

The clay warriors were relentless with their onslaught of attacks. Their powerful strikes slammed into the ground, narrowly missing the fleshy targets by inches. It took a brief time for the heroes to evade enough of the incoming blows to actually regroup and begin their counter assault.

As the fight lingered on, it became apparent that this was not going to be an easy battle. The Lamiens fought exactly like any other Dainty did, without fear. The only difference was that the clay creatures were almost three times the size of a normal Dainty and three times as strong. For a brief moment, the heroes began to wonder if they could even defeat the rampaging warriors. They were becoming desperate; their attacks were useless against the Lamiens. Every hard earned strike they landed seemed to have little effect on the ancient protectors. It seemed that retreat was only moments away, but then it happened; Red defeated one of the Lamiens.

Red, after realizing that his steel had no effect, drew his pistol and fired off two well-placed shots. His lead connected with the Lamien's black eyes and sent it slumping to the ground. He gawked at the creature for a moment; he could not believe that he had killed this beast. In all of his years on the sea or land, he had never seen such a creature. His mind was finally redirected as he heard the sounds of his comrades engaged in battle. He quickly turned to lay down some fire with his four remaining shots. He extended his arm and took aim at the Lamien who was blocking and countering Oggy's attacks when a blinding pain shot up the length of his arm. He was caught off guard by a large fist that connected with his forearm, breaking it in half. His pistol flew from his hand, and purely out of instinct, he rolled out of the way of the second strike, narrowly avoiding being crushed. He took a quick glance at his arm; both the radius and ulna had been fractured. Red did not know the anatomy of the human body, but he did know that the bones were not supposed to be sticking out through the flesh. He was now evading an overwhelming onslaught of attacks, once again, with his cutlass drawn and his dominant arm dangling in the air.

Everyone was frantically dodging and ducking the Lamiens' furious attacks and trying to sneak in a well-placed strike of their own when the opportunity presented itself. If it had not been for Locmire, there was a good chance that no one would have survived. He stayed at a distance, providing protective enchantments around his friends. The enchantments did not totally protect the combatants, but they did help to soften the blows. When Locmire saw an opening, he would send force spells at the Lamiens, knocking them back a few feet and giving everyone a break before the attacks came again. Locmire unleashed several different types of offensive spells into the Lamiens, but with lackluster results. They seemed to be impervious to his magic.

Red came running through the middle of the fray being pursued by the Lamien that broke his arm and yelled, "Ye gotta hit em in da eyes! Hit em in da eyes an dey done for!"

Urganox's flail connected with the chest of one of the Lamiens, only creating a small dent in the thick clay. He evaded another incoming attack and yelled to Lot, "What did he say?"

"I think he said," Lot rolled out of the way of a wide looping strike. "If we destroy their eyes, they will die."

"I thought he said something about a disguise," Urganox replied amused, as he was thoroughly enjoying this test of skill.

Oggius was the next to topple one of the Lamiens. As the Lamien raised its arms high above its head preparing to deliver a double fisted slam, Oggy took the handle of his war hammer and landed two quick strikes, poking both of its eyes out and sending the titan reeling backwards. Oggy jammed the flat head of his hammer into the Lamiens midsection, doubling it over. He brought his hammer up in an arcing motion, which landed squarely on the chin of the Lamien, sending its head flying through the air.

Oggy walked over to the decapitated Lamien and said, "Hard to fight without a head, eh?"

Urganox was the next hero to bring not one, but two, Lamiens down, but his means were a little more barbaric. He waited for one of the two Lamiens he was dueling with to show a break in its defense. When he saw an opening, he charged in and tackled it to the ground. He sprang back up and took the heel of his foot and began to savagely smash it into the Lamiens face. He had flattened out the clay-like creatures head, destroying both of its eyes in the process.

The other Lamien charged recklessly toward him. He squatted low to the ground and shoved his shoulder into the Lamien's midsection, securing one arm around its neck and the other around one of its legs. He shot up to his feet and used his strength, along with the momentum of the charging Lamien, to flip it over his shoulder. By the heel of his shoe, the second Lamien met the same fate as its deceased counterpart. After he made sure both Lamiens were dead, he raised his foot and wiped chunks of thick clay off of his boot. He decided that if he was to keep fighting foes such as these, he would need to invest in a trowel to remove the clay from his boots.

Lot was dancing a dance of death with two of the Lamiens, recklessly evading their attacks. His dueling partners seemed determined to end him. His two short swords were sinking deep into the clay-like bodies as he hacked and slashed away at them. As soon as his swords would leave their bodies, the clay-like substance they were created from would seem to fill in the gaps and heal itself. He was jumping, rolling and ducking at incredible speeds trying to confuse the ancient guardians. Finally, his acrobatic techniques paid off when he managed to cause the two Lamiens to collide with one another, sending them both tumbling to the ground. Lot jumped into the air and sank the tips of his blades into the eyes of the first Lamien. He retracted his blades and turned to the second one. It was now sitting on its back side trying to make its way back onto its feet. Sprinting forward, he launched himself feet first into its chest. It flattened back out on the ground, and he rolled forward bringing his blades crashing down into the two black eyes.

The other four Dainties were entangled with two of the three remaining Lamiens. The tiny warriors were like insects swarming the giants. Golgar helped decommission one by standing on Erimack's shoulders and jumping onto its back. He attached himself firmly around its thick neck. As the Lamien swayed back and forth trying to shake the unwanted pest, Erimack grabbed one of its legs and sent it sprawling to the ground. Olaf and Zulp mounted the fallen giant and tore out its black eyes with their bare hands.

The last ancient guardian they were fighting was very skilled. No matter what type of attacks the four Dainties sent at it, it was able to counterattack. The Dainties could not get their feet planted under them due to the frequency of blows. They constantly backpedaled to avoid becoming crushed.

Urganox, Oggy and Lot ran to help their small friends. As they were in route to offer aid, Red came darting by, his arm flopping like a string. The relentless Lamien that was chasing him soon abandoned its pursuit when Urganox stuck out his large arm and caught it across the chest. At that exact moment, Oggy swung his hammer and connected with its soft leg, creating a large indention in its knee, causing it to fall. When it fell to the ground, Lot once again sank his blades into the black eyes extinguishing its life.

The four Dainties were now battling for their lives. Locmire came to them and was pelting the monster with spells. With one sweeping blow, all four Dainties went flying through the air. The Lamien was upon them in an instant. He hovered over Zulp and Olaf with both of his fists raised high in the air. Zulp thought, this is it. Suddenly, a lifeless Lamien came flying through the air and smashed into the Dainties' attacker. It landed on top of its twin, momentarily pinning it to the ground. The Dainties pounced on the trapped Lamien and commenced to gouging and smashing out the eyes of the final guardian.

Red came over to his friends and fell to his knees saying, "Me tinks me arm seen beddar days."

"I think we all have, friend," Oggy replied.

The heroes were all drenched with sweat. They had just taken part in a ten minute battle of life and death. Some were bleeding and bruised, but with the exception of Red, no one was seriously injured.

"Fascinating," said Locmire as he knelt down beside one of the fallen creatures.

"What?" asked Lot.

"My spells had very little effect on them. This was only the second time my magic has failed to make an impact on a creature," said the Wizard as he knelt beside one of the fallen Lamiens.

"It was effective enough, old man," Lot said as he fell hard onto his bottom. "Kept us all alive."

"That it did," said Oggy.

"What amazed me was Urganox," said Oggy. "He picked up and tossed that Lamien like it was a child."

"My back tells me that it was no child," Urganox said as he rubbed his lower back.

"What about the fact that he had a shield the whole time and never once decided to use it?" asked Lot.

"Oh," Urganox said as he felt for the forgotten shield on his back. "I forgot I had that."

This gave everyone a much deserved laugh. Even the oxygen deprived Dainties, who moments ago were unable to draw enough wind to talk, managed to let out a few small laughs.

They rested for a short time while Locmire set and wrapped Red's broken arm. He pointed his staff at Red. Red closed his eyes as a blue mist came from the end of the staff and disappeared into the fracture site. Red felt a rush of heat consume his arm. He could feel the bones inside of his arm grinding together, a feeling that made him queasy.

"It should be better in a few hours," Locmire said.

"Me thanks ye, Old One. Ye be's purdy good at mendin up broken bones?" he asked.

"Let's just say that I am aware of a few tricks that have been known to heal broken bones quite well," said Locmire.

"Me thanks ye," Red replied.

"You're welcome," said the old Wizard.

After everyone was well rested and had finished the exaggerated retelling of the events that had taken place, they continued on with their search for the surface.

# Chapter 35

# Surrounded

Rasmere woke the rest of the group while being as inconspicuous as possible. The entire party was now awake and wondering what had caused him to arouse them from their much needed slumber. Rasmere duck walked over to where Thaddeus knelt, listening to the dark forest around them.

"Any more movement?" Rasmere asked.

"Yes," the King said as he repositioned himself. "Something is definitely out there. An animal, perhaps?"

"I do not think so," said Rasmere.

Azonis, Caleb, and River made their way over to the fire where Rasmere and Thaddeus sat.

"What is out there?" asked River.

"We do not know. Be ready for anything," replied Rasmere.

"I am getting a bad feeling about this," said Azonis. "I feel eyes upon me."

"Want me to check it out?" asked Caleb.

"Yes, but be cautious," replied the King.

Caleb once again transformed himself into an owl and flew off into the night sky. They sat silently awaiting his return, listening and watching the darkness that surrounded them. After a few minutes the Shape Shifter touched back down beside the fire with a panic stricken look on his face.

"Well?" Thaddeus asked.

"Something is definitely out there. I can see shapes but I cannot make out what they are," he paused. "And there seems to be a large number of them."

"The Breathless," Thaddeus said as he stood up. "I can smell their stench."

"I think it is high time we find out who our visitors are," he said as he drew his axe. "River, can you shed some light on this situation?"

The Mage nodded her head and readied her staff.

"Prepare yourselves," Azonis said as he removed his golden sword from its sheath and readied his shield. "If whatever is watching us is hostile, it will surely attack when it knows we are aware of its presence."

Rasmere's bow was already drawn at full length, desperately seeking a target. Caleb transformed himself into the golden brown lion and lowered himself on his front legs, ready to pounce. River stepped forward and muttered a few words. With a swipe of her staff, the forest became alive with flames. Loud screeches from the darkness sent chills throughout their bodies. As the blaze began to dance across the forest floor, their eyes began to adjust to the initial explosion of light. Dark figures started to come into focus, and they were now charging at their camp site.

"Get ready!" Thaddeus yelled. "And whatever you do, do not stray from the protective circle of flame that River has provided."

A multitude of Breathless and Shadow Men began to storm their camp. At least a hundred attackers fell victim to River's circle of fire before it was stamped out.

The heroes began to battle by the light of a blazing forest. Thaddeus managed to keep his party in formation as they faced the overwhelming attack. He and Azonis put their weapons to work meeting the slews of the living dead head on. They ripped through the rotten flesh of their attackers like a hot fire poker in fresh snow. The fight was fast paced and frantic. The sheer numbers of the evil forces did not allow for even one mistake. Thaddeus, amongst all the chaos, still managed to bellow out orders to the rest of his party. Without his direction, they would surely have been overrun.

Caleb circled closely to Thaddeus and Azonis, taking down any of the Breathless who made it past their defensive wall. The amount of power behind Caleb's powerful swings, along with his razor sharp claws, made for quick one hit kills that sent large bits of rotten flesh and black blood flying through the night air.

River and Rasmere stood near the cliff face. The Forest Engenium was picking enemies off by the dozens. A rotten corpse somehow managed to make its way behind Azonis. Rasmere took aim but hesitated for a moment. The corpse grabbed Azonis by the shoulder; tarnishing his golden armor with a slimy black substance. Rasmere released the taut string and sent an opas arrow through the soft skull of the corpse that stopped it in its tracks. Azonis quickly turned to see Rasmere standing motionless, staring at him. The Sestian gave him a nod of thanks, which Rasmere reluctantly returned. The Sestian rejoined the battle and Rasmere continued to snipe enemies from the back of the battlefield.

River was hurling bolts of fire into the darkness, which made quick work of the Shadow Men. Her fire bolts, combined with the forest blaze, incinerated the ashen foes by the hundreds. For creatures without mouths, the Shadow Men produced ear splitting cries as they exploded, and their remains were blown away with the cool night breeze.

After a frantic defense of their camp, it was finally over. Heaps of rotten corpses and black ash from the Shadow Men littered the forest floor. The smell was unbearable. The warriors were all panting heavily. White sections of flesh shone from underneath their dirty faces, streaked clean from the sweat that flooded down their brows.

"Is it over?" asked Caleb.

"Why?" Thaddeus asked with a smile. "Do you want more?"

Caleb returned his smile.

"But there is more," replied Azonis.

The eyes of the entire group narrowed down upon him. He had just said the words none of them wanted to hear.

"If these creatures are here, then there must be a Summoner nearby. Am I correct?" Azonis asked.

"Very likely," said the King. "Let us search the forest once more. Stay close together, we do not want to become separated."

They set off blindly into the forest looking for the person responsible for the unannounced arrival of their guests. Caleb was soaring high in the night sky looking for signs of life below. A few miles from the camp, Caleb descended back to the earth.

"Anything?" asked Thaddeus.

"Yes. There is an old cabin a few miles west of us. Smoke rolls from its chimney. I do not know how I missed it before," said Caleb.

"Do not worry about such things, Caleb," Thaddeus said as he put a hand on the Shifter's shoulder. "Can you lead us there?"

"Yes," Caleb replied.

The fearless warriors gathered their belongings and made their way through the dark forest and prepared themselves for the worst. It was very unlikely that anyone with good intentions would be living this far out in the forest.

If the Summoner is in this cabin, he will meet the same fate as the rest of his kind, Thaddeus thought as they set off for the cabin.

# Chapter 36

# The Forgotten Palace

The heroes had traveled for at least two days through winding passages and old Daintish dwelling sites. They encountered another group of Lamiens but were able to easily dispatch of them this time, now that they knew their weakness. Lamiens were not the only creatures with whom the heroes crossed paths. They also had to contend with a den of cattle sized spiders that were blocking their path. If it had not been for Locmire's fire balls, the encounter may have turned out much differently. Each member had different skills and talents that helped to strengthen the party. During a short rest, Locmire thought to himself, I feel we have the perfect combination of warriors. It seems that fate still knows what it is doing.

After traveling for what seemed like days, they came to a large stone structure unlike any of the others they had passed. This particular dwelling was intact; the years of abandonment without repair did not seem to affect this magnificent structure. It was immaculate. The other notable distinguishing feature of the structure, aside from its condition, was its size. It was three times larger than any other place they had passed. What looked like a tower stood atop the large building, and it went all the way up to the ceiling of the underground cavern.

"What do ye reckon it be's?" asked Red.

"I think this might be the old palace," Oggy said as his eyes followed the structure into the ceiling. "If this is a palace, which I am sure it is, that must be the tower that leads to the upper levels of Pizenchaffe."

"Well, let us waste no time," said Lot.

"Wait a moment," Oggy said with much concern in his voice.

"What is it?" replied Lot.

"If this is, in fact, the old palace as I suspect it is, we must be on our guard. Old Daintish palaces are dangerous places to tread. They are said to be haunted by the spirits of the former kings."

"If this place will lead us to the surface, then we must risk it," said Lot.

"He is correct," Locmire said. "This may be the only place to resurface for miles. We could travel blindly down here for days. The longer we stay, the more dangerous it becomes. I feel this is our best chance."

"I agree," said Urganox.

"We are with King Stonefist. Whatever decision he makes, we will stand by him," said Golgar, speaking for himself and his Dainty companions.

Oggy looked at the palace long and hard, studying every inch of it and the surroundings. I have a bad feeling about this, he thought.

"Very well. Lead the way," Oggy said to Lot.

Lot led the group up a long set of stone steps, which were just as intact as the day that they were constructed. He noticed no signs of disuse about this place, not even dust on the steps. They stopped at the top of the steps and Lot looked back at the group. His glance was met by anxious faces that were preparing themselves for whatever lay in wait. He pushed open the large stone door and entered the antechamber.

The antechamber was beautifully decorated with golden statues and walls accented with precious jewels. Lot's thieving mind told him to make note of the location of this place so he could return when this was all over.

"This is the biggest anteroom I have ever set foot in," Oggy said as he marveled at the beauty of the place. "Remarkable."

"No need in delaying the inevitable," Lot said as he made his way to the stone door that led to the main body of the palace.

Before he pushed the door open, Oggy's voice spoke softly, "Wait."

Lot turned back to see the Daintish King slowly making his way over to the corner of the antechamber. He stooped over and picked up a large pizenore shield that lay covered in blood.

"What is it, my King?" Golgar asked.

"This is Biddle's shield," Oggy choked out.

The group fell silent. The fate that Oggy had suspected regarding the whereabouts of his son had finally become clear. The father's face was grim. Two emotions, pain and sadness, whirled across his face like a weather vane in a storm. He had come face to face with his worst fear, a fear that had contributed to him losing his place on the throne. His son, Biddle, was dead.

"My King . . . ," Golgar took a deep breath. "I am so very sorry. I am sure he died a warrior's death."

Golgar's words acted like flame to petrom. Oggius marched violently to the door, kicked it open, and delved forward into the palace.

# Chapter 37

# The Cabin in the Woods

"I cannot see anything," Azonis said as he stood on his tip toes looking through a dirty window. "These windows have not been cleaned in ages."

"Well, let us hope that the dirt obstructs the visibility from within just as it does from out here," said Rasmere.

"What is our plan?" asked River.

"You could just set it on fire. Whoever is inside will come out to us," Caleb said.

"Or we could just knock on the door," added Thaddeus.

His companions looked at him as if he had lost his mind. Anyone this far out in the wilds could not be friendly.

"Well that is one option," replied the Sestian.

Thaddeus rose to his feet. The rest of his party was still crouched underneath the window.

"What are you doing?" River whispered with a hint of panic in her voice.

"Knocking," the King replied calmly.

Thaddeus strode over to the front of the house. He cracked his neck from side to side, clenched his large fist, and gave the door two hard knocks. The others quickly made it to their feet and fell in line behind him.

A scratchy voice answered from within, "Come in, come in. It has been too long since I have had this many visitors. Please come in."

Thaddeus slowly turned the knob and pushed the door open. Tending a metal cooker that was hanging over the fire place, a strange creature stood. It was unlike any Thaddeus had ever laid eyes upon. What kind of demon is this, he thought.

A portion of the being looked similar to a man, while the other half looked like that of a goat. In fact, it was a little of both. The bottom half of the cabin's resident was covered in brown, scraggly fur. It did not have the feet of a normal man; instead it had the hooves of a goat. The upper half, which was shirtless, looked just like a man's torso. The only other difference was the creature's head. A long beard hung from its chin and two small horns poked through the tangle of hair upon its head.

With outstretched arms, the creature said, "Welcome travelers! Please make yourselves at home. What is mine is now yours." It dipped a ladle in the cooker and took a sip of an unknown substance. "Anyone hungry?"

They stood in the doorway in awe of the half man, half goat that stood before them.

"What is it?" asked River.

"I do not know," Thaddeus replied.

"It is a Faun," replied Rasmere.

"A what?" asked Thaddeus.

"A Faun. Half man, half goat. It is a mischievous creature that lives in the forest. I have had dealings with their kind before, but it has been many years ago," Rasmere said.

"That is correct, bronze skinned one. All correct expect for the mischievous part," the Faun took a sip from the ladle. "Perfect!"

"My name is Thaddeus Graystone from Galdarath. These are my companions," Thaddeus said as he introduced his group. "And who might you be?"

"The name is Dysut, pleasure to make your acquaintance," said the Faun as he took an over exaggerated bow.

"I have never seen a creature such as yourself. From what land do you come?" asked the King.

"Come in, come in. You are letting the cold air in," Dysut said as he made his way over to the door and ushered everyone inside. His hooves quickly clacked across the wooden floor. They entered the cabin but did not put their backs to the strange creature.

"Now, where were we?" Dysut asked as he sat down in a chair next to the fire. "Oh yes! Where do I come from? I come from the Yellow Fields in Fodder Valley."

"Where?" Azonis asked. "I have never heard of such place."

"I suspect you have not. Most of your kind stay out of Fodder Valley," replied the Faun.

"Exactly where is this Fodder Valley of which you speak?" asked the King.

"It is tucked away in the northwestern border of the continent. On the other side of the mountain range next to the green ones," Dysut replied.

"The green ones?" Azonis asked. "Do you mean the Brazurkins?"

"Yes. I think that is the name for them. We call them the Goat Men," Dysut said as he erupted out in laughter.

His laughter came on so suddenly and violently, Thaddeus took a step back and his hands instinctively found their way to the hilt of his swords. He relaxed his grip on his weapons as he realized the Faun was only laughing.

"What brings you this far south?" asked Thaddeus.

The Faun became very nervous. His hoof began to clack off of the wooden floor. His hairy legs were shaking very quickly now.

"It is not safe there. The Dark One is back. It is not safe. The darkness overtook the valley. Most of us left from there when they started to come back."

"When who came back? Why is it not safe?" asked the King.

"The Dark Wizard," the Faun whispered. He is back. So is the Onock and his army of the Breathless."

The group looked at one another despairingly and diverted their attention back to the Faun.

"He came back and started to raise bad things from the dead. We all had to leave. The Fauns, Centaurs, Fairies, Sprites, Brownies. We all had to leave. Some stayed though. Some stayed to serve him."

"What kind of creatures did he bring back?" asked Azonis.

"All kinds. The Gargantuans and Cold Bloods. Except they don't look like they use to. They kind of look like they use to, but they don't look like they use to," Dysut said rather frantically.

"What do they look like?" asked Thaddeus.

"Oh very scary they are. They are all black now. They stink too. Eyes black as night. Very mean. They killed all kind of the forest creatures who lived there. We had to leave."

Thaddeus looked at Azonis with an expression of worry.

"The Hoggins stayed, stayed behind to serve. So did the Trolls and Woggens. Stayed behind to serve him," the Faun was now pacing the room. "He brought things with him too. Very bad things. Dead men. Dark men. The flying things. He brought them back too. Dark dead men wearing armor and carrying weapons came also. They were the really bad ones."

"When did this happen?" Thaddeus asked.

"About twenty moons ago. His Sphere just showed up and within a day he had taken over. We have lived there in peace for 500 years, away from the non-forest types. Lived there in harmony. In a day he destroyed it all. The flowers died, grass died, trees died. The sun even died. Big thorn thickets popped up killing all the plants. He is bad, very bad."

"What else can you tell us, Dysut?" Thaddeus asked.

With that the Faun jumped up from his chair and started backing himself into the corner.

"I cannot tell you. Why do you ask? You are with him! You are part of his kind! Leave! Leave now!" Dysut exclaimed.

Thaddeus stood up and walked toward the cornered creature and began to speak, but he was met by a devastating hoof to his chest. Thaddeus flew across the room and came crashing down in the opposite corner.

Azonis popped up with his sword drawn. Rasmere's bow was stretched to full length.

"No!" cried Thaddeus as he made his way to a sitting position. "Do not harm him. He is scared. He only acted out of self-preservation."

They lowered their weapons, and Thaddeus made his way back to his feet.

"That is a very powerful kick you have, friend," said the King.

The Faun quickly dropped his defensive posture. He looked surprised.

"Friend?" he asked. "I am your friend?"

Thaddeus looked at River, and she nodded her head.

"Yes. Yes, you are my friend, and I mean no harm to my friends," the King said convincingly.

Dysut pondered this notion for a moment and trotted back over to the cooking pot.

"Well in that case," he said as he filled the ladle once more with soup. "Let us eat."

The group sat down at the table and shared a bowl of soup with the Faun. They could tell this made the lonely creature very happy. During their meal, Dysut told them all about Fodder Valley. After the last battle with Hasbarie, Fodder Valley was left uninhabited. The dominant races of Calencia began to spread and rebuild, destroying the mystical creatures' homelands. The creatures of the forest all moved into Fodder Valley and began their new lives. Not many travelers dared to venture into the valley for fear of any remaining Gargantuans, which no longer existed until recently. If any travelers did manage to muster up the courage to enter the valley, they were met by the Woggens and Trolls. No man would willingly battle a Woggen or pack of Trolls, so they had lived in peace for many years, that was, until Hasbarie returned and made Fodder Valley his new home.

Not many creatures survived the reappearing of Hasbarie. His darkness arrived and purged the valley of all signs of life, leaving only those who pledged allegiance to the Dark Wizard, just as the Gargantuans had done so many years ago.

The travelers finished their hot meal, which, by the way, was extremely tasty, and continued on with their questions.

"So, you came as far south as you could without entering the Dead Lands. Have you laid eyes upon any of your other fleeing friends?" Thaddeus asked.

"Oh yes. Just the other day, I saw a tribe of Brownies, and yesterday I saw a Centaur galloping through the forest."

"Is there anything else you can tell us? Anything that might be helpful in our quest to destroy the Dark Wizard?" asked the King.

Dysut fell into deep thought. He almost seemed to go into a state of meditation.

"Well, right before the Dark One returned, four hooded Humans entered the valley," he scratched his matted hair. "They had four black looking things and placed them on the ground. A big blackness came out, and that is when it all started. I think they were the ones who brought him back."

"The Dark Priests," Thaddeus said.

"The what?" Azonis asked.

"I will tell you later," Thaddeus replied.

"One more question, friend," Thaddeus said.

"Oh yes! Anything you ask I will tell," replied the Faun.

"Just a short while ago, we were attacked by Hasbarie's forces at our camp, not far from here," Thaddeus paused. "Have you seen anyone else in the forest lately?"

The Faun once again began to scratch the area around his horns, deep in thought.

"Well now that you mention it, I did meet a rather nice lady a little bit before you arrived."

Thaddeus stood up abruptly.

"Where did you see her? Which way did she leave?" demanded the King.

"Calm down, calm down. She did not go far," the Faun was saying as he made the universal gesture for calm with his hands. "She was lost in the forest and scared. Very scared. I gave her shelter here. She is asleep in the basement."

The entire party got to their feet at once.

"She is here? Now?" asked Thaddeus.

"Yes she is in-," Dysut's answer was cut off by what seemed to be an explosion beneath them. Dust rose from between the floor boards. A black haze seemed to creep out from underneath them.

"We need to leave from here!" exclaimed Thaddeus.

"Oh my! I wonder what is-," the Faun's words were cut off once again.

The floor boards erupted from underneath Dysut, sending him flying up into the air and back down into the darkness below. A loud roar came climbing from the cellar followed by the scream, or nay, of a Faun. It was hard to distinguish the two apart.

Blood gushed up from the dark hole along with the last dying words of Dysut, "Friend! Help me!"

"To arms!" Thaddeus roared.

A familiar foe tore its way up through the floor with only one thing on its mind: death.

"Everafter!" Thaddeus cried. "We must get out of here! We have no chance to defeat it in here!"

River blasted an exit in the side of the cozy little cabin, and they stampeded outside into the wide open. A moment later, a large hulking creature, with its appendages held together by sutures came tearing through the hole in the wall and bore down upon them. The decaying creature, this time carrying an axe instead of a cleaver, came rushing toward them. They were barely able to get out of the way of the charging monstrosity.

Thaddeus and Azonis charged the creature, unleashing a full scale frontal assault. They were chopping and slicing away at its rotten flesh. Azonis drove his golden sword through the Everafter's leg. The creature screamed out in pain and made a wide swipe with its free hand that sent Azonis flying into the dark night.

The creature began to look like a tailor's pin cushion, and Rasmere was adding more pins by the second with his bow. River blasted the creature with a force spell, which sent it stumbling. It quickly turned and directed its rage toward her. In an instant, it was upon her. The Everafter grabbed her by the hair and hoisted her high up into the air. It held her out in front of it and drew back the large axe, aiming to cut her in half.

Thaddeus called to Caleb, "Up!"

Caleb did not hesitate. He shifted into the large eagle, picked Thaddeus up by the shoulders and flew him straight at the death dealer.

"Now!" Thaddeus cried again.

Caleb released the King in midair. It was perfectly time. Just as Thaddeus became arm level with the Everafter, he brought his axe downward with a crushing blow. The Everafter's arm fell down to the ground. It dropped River from a distance of at least ten feet, and she also went crashing onto the ground. Thaddeus landed on his feet and rolled forward. He looked to River. At least she is alive, he thought.

"Look out!" Rasmere cried.

Thaddeus rolled to his right as a large fist smashed into the ground where he had stood mere seconds ago. The Everafter was furious but did not know where to direct its rage. The Shifter, Engenium and Invincible King attacked the giant from all directions, no one staying in one place for too long. It could not focus on one specific target. It lashed out frantically, hoping to slay one of the pesky attackers.

Thaddeus finally managed to cut the beast down to its knees, where the remaining three warriors made quick work of the helpless abomination. The King lopped off its head, spilling out buckets of black blood, maggots, and worms. It was over.

Thaddeus and Caleb quickly ran to River, while Rasmere made his way into the forest in search of Azonis. Thaddeus found River lying on her stomach, face down in the dirt. Please let her be alive, he thought. He rolled her over and lightly stroked her face. "Wake up," he said.

She slowly opened her eyes, and the first thing she saw was Thaddeus hovering over her. River stared deep into Thaddeus's eyes where her gaze was met warmly by his. It seemed that they were looking into one another's soul. After an awkward moment, Thaddeus quickly stood back up.

"Glad you are all right," he said.

"Thanks to you," she replied.

Caleb stuck out his hand to help her up.

"And to you," she said to Caleb.

Thaddeus turned to see Azonis and Rasmere approaching them out of the corner of his eye.

"You all right?" Thaddeus asked the Sestian.

"It takes more than that to kill me," Azonis replied.

"So it seems," replied Thaddeus.

"And I see, once again, you remain unharmed," said the Sestian.

"So it seems," replied Thaddeus once again.

They all sat down on the forest floor for a short rest. They were exhausted. It had been a long day and even longer night. Thaddeus was emotionally and physically tired. He had faced Hasbarie's minions on five separate occasions in the past two days. He hoped that this was not to become the norm.

As the group sat discussing the information that Dysut had provided, it became evident to Thaddeus that Azonis was not meshing well with the group. River and Caleb sat next to the King, Azonis sat across from them and Rasmere was standing at the edge of the forest. Azonis had not been very vocal with Rasmere since they had departed from Lasticall. Thaddeus supposed it had something to do with the fact that Rasmere did not consider Azonis the Sestian this far away from his kingdom, and Azonis did not want to push his luck. The King also noticed that Azonis had taken a demeaning tone with River earlier. If he kept exhibiting this type of behavior, Thaddeus would have to speak with him.

River produced a small fire next to the cabin so they could see one another as they discussed their plans for the next day. Rasmere came closer to the fire but remained silent.

Everyone tried to get a few minutes of sleep before it became time to head westward toward Dead Marsh. As the morning drew nearer, Thaddeus, without saying a word, disappeared into the old cabin.

After several minutes Azonis asked, "What do you suppose he is doing in there?"

"I do not know. Do you think I should go and check on him?" Caleb asked.

"No," River said firmly. "He has been through a lot. Give him his space."

Thaddeus finally emerged from within the destroyed cabin, carrying a large bloody sack.

# Chapter 38

# The Lich

"Show yourself!" Oggius demanded.

He received no response.

The rest of the party cautiously entered the palace behind him. They were now in a large open room. Tall stone pillars were evenly spaced throughout the room, helping to support the weight of the mountain above.

"In the name of the Stonefists, I command you to show yourself!" he cried again.

Lot leaned over to Golgar and asked, "What is this place?"

"The throne room," he replied.

"Oggy, look!" Erimack exclaimed as he pointed to the back of the throne room.

Oggy turned to look. A golden throne caught his eye. After all these years, it seemed that every part of the palace was still intact. It almost looked as if the palace had never been abandoned. The throne did not concern Oggy, but what sat upon it did.

Occupying the throne was a figure in the shape of a man. He wore a long, black robe, and his head was covered with a black cowl. Oggy stomped off toward the throne, with the rest of the party following closely in his wake. As they came closer to the throne the figure began to show signs of life.

"Ahhh," a loud voice boomed. "More guests."

The figure took to its feet and pulled back the cowl revealing itself to them. Oggy stopped suddenly, causing his followers to bump into him.

"A Lich," said Locmire.

Legends spoke of Wizards who, desperate to achieve immortality, had bound their souls to their living forms so that after death, they could resurrect. These reanimated skeletal beings were white as snow with empty black sockets where long withered away eyes once dwelled. While their fleshless appearance gives the impression of frailty, the boney body of a Lich is nearly indestructible. More importantly, it is impossible to vanquish such a creature without first locating its phylactery, a physical object imbued with the Lich's soul. As it is the Lich's lifeline to this world, the phylactery tends to be exceedingly well hidden from any would-be destroyers.

The Lich standing before them clutched a staff in its hand. A crystal, which housed a red flame, was attached to the end.

Locmire readied his own staff. He had dealt with a Lich before, long ago. He had hoped that he would never have the displeasure of facing one again. Much to his dismay, here one stood mere feet from him, and it was battle ready.

# Chapter 39

# Kiliam

One of Locmire's first assignments as a young Wizard was to investigate a small village located not too far east of Fogarth. A Looker had revealed a prophecy concerning an evil force in the village of Kiliam. They had kept careful watch on the village, but for the longest time they had no reason to intervene. The only reason the Wizards deemed it necessary to become involved in this particular matter was because a fellow Wizard had went missing in Kiliam as he passed through the village on a return trip home. Locmire and two other Wizards, Dalit and Harsmon, set out to investigate the whereabouts of their missing friend.

Upon entering Kiliam, they were struck by how much the once bustling village now resembled a cemetery. The only visible signs of life came from the town hall, where every light was lit. The three Wizards cautiously made their way to the town hall, not knowing what to expect.

"Be ready for anything. We know not what waits behind these doors," said Locmire.

"If whatever we find is evil, it will wish it had stayed in whatever dark place it came from," Dalit said.

"I hope this as simple as you seem to think it will be, Dalit. I, myself, believe that we are up for a tremendous testing of our skills. There would be no need to send three Wizards if it were to be a simple matter," Harsmon replied.

"Did anyone tell you what to expect here?" Dalit asked.

"Enough!" Locmire said. "Let's go."

Even though Dalit and Harsmon were one hundred years the elder of Locmire, they quickly became silent. One look into Locmire's icy, baby blue eyes let them know that this was a serious matter. Locmire slowly pushed open the town hall's doors, and his stomach quickly turned inside out. Before him, the entire town of Kiliam lay slaughtered on the floor. It was the most horrific scene any of the Wizards had ever laid eyes upon. Men, women and children lay lifeless in pools of blood. Body parts were strewn across the room. In the center of the room was a wooden rectangular dining table that was set for a feast. Every place was set, and the plates were piled high with various assortments of body parts. At the head of the table sat a skeleton dressed in ragged clothing.

"By the crystals! What is it?" Dalit asked.

"A Lich," Harsmon replied.

"What is it doing here?" asked Dalit.

"Unfinished business I assume," Locmire replied.

At the sound of their voice, the Lich turned his head in their direction. Although no tissue remained on the Lich's body, it was somehow able to give them a toothy grin. The Lich stood up and before anyone could act, he pulled his staff from beside him and waved it across the room. Immediately the bodies of the lifeless villagers reanimated and rose to their feet. The Lich pointed his staff at the three Wizards, and the corpses attacked.

The dead villagers ran, crawled, and scooted their way toward Locmire and his companions. The three Wizards made quick work of the living-dead foes. Fireballs, ice blasts, and a lightning-like whip violently tore through the room. After only a few seconds, all that remained standing was the Wizards and the Lich.

"Why do you come here, Wizards? Have I crossed you in some way?" asked the Lich.

"You have crossed us by your very existence. What you have done is unnatural. We cannot allow such magic to be performed," Locmire replied.

"And what gives you the right to decide what type of magic one should be allowed to perform?" the Lich asked.

"What gives you the right to try and defy death? Much less return from the grave and slaughter innocents?" Harsmon asked.

"I never went to the grave. When my mortal body was struck down by these savages, my mind remained. When the time was right, I reunited my mind with my body, thus achieving immortality. What is so wrong with that?" asked the Lich.

"Time for talk is over. Prepare yourself, demon," Dalit roared.

"If you think that I will surrender to you, you are sadly mistaken. I have overcome death, and I refuse to face that fate again," said the Lich as he pointed his staff.

A yellow ball of lightning struck Dalit in the face. The blast sent him sprawling backwards, and he collapsed to the floor. Smoke rolled from his body.

Harsmon and Locmire began their counter assault, striking the Lich with every spell at their disposal. Offensive spells had no serious impact on the skeletal abomination. Binding spells, only momentarily, stopped it. Even spells meant to prevent one from using magic could not stop the Lich from using his magical abilities. They had been dueling for over five minutes, and the Wizards were becoming tired. They were casting their most powerful spells back to back. Their magic reserves were starting to dwindle. The Lich, on the other hand, did not seem to be phased.

"Should we retreat?" Harsmon shouted as he dodged an incoming lightning ball.

Locmire sent a large fireball in the Lich's direction and replied, "Our efforts are useless. We are outmatched. Retreat!"

The Wizards turned to run from the town hall. Locmire had made it out of the door. Harsmon was right beside him, when suddenly, he was pulled back. Locmire turned to see a large hand wrapped around Harsmon's body.

"Run!" Harsmon screamed. "Run!"

Locmire stood frozen as the large hand squeezed the life from Harsmon. He popped like a strawberry. The hand disappeared and what was left of Harsmon fell to the floor. Locmire did not hesitate. He turned and ran as far as he could from the town of Kiliam until he made it back safely to Fogarth.

The Master Wizards educated Locmire about the Lich, telling him everything he needed to know to be successful during their next encounter. It was now evident as to why they were unable to destroy the Lich. They had not known the whereabouts of his phylactery. Without the destruction of the phylactery, the Lich could not be destroyed.

Locmire spent the next ten years tracking the Lich's every movement. He eventually learned the identity of the Lich, a rogue Wizard by the name of Zusal Nok.

Zusal Nok abandoned his lifetime home of Fogarth so he could begin the practice of necromancy and conjuring. The Wizards of Fogarth did not allow such dark magic to be practiced within the confines of the desert, or anywhere for that matter. Fearing that he may be caught practicing his dark magic, Zusal snuck away from Fogarth in the middle of the night. The Wizards searched for him many moons, but cunning as he was, he evaded them at every turn. Finally, the Wizards retreated back to Fogarth, knowing that he would eventually resurface.

Zusal made a grievous mistake when he waltzed into the town of Kiliam. Kiliam was home to many great warriors and a wise old mage. When Zusal's dark past became known, the residents of Kiliam took him in his sleep and beheaded him. A witness told Locmire that Zusal's detached head cursed the village of Kiliam and promised to return and kill every last person in the village. Locmire was able to gather enough information about Zusal to finally, after great effort, locate his phylactery.

Twelve years after their first encounter, Locmire located Zusal in a small village near Morgorath. He confronted the Lich and destroyed his phylactery, in this case a golden ring, right before his eyes. A lengthy battle ensued. When the flashes of light ended, and the smoke cleared, Locmire stood victorious.

# Chapter 40

# The Phylactery

"Back away," Oggy said as he began to slowly walk backward. "We must get out of here."

The Lich spoke again, "Where are you going? You are my guests! Do not leave so soon."

The Lich pointed its staff in the air, and a red light shot from out of its end. The light struck the ground around them.

"Look!" Erimack exclaimed.

The stone floor of the palace began to crack. Large hands began to rise from the floor all around them. Hundreds of deceased Dainties began to pull themselves up out of the cracks.

"Looks like we have a fight on our hands," said Lot.

"Good," Urganox replied. "I have grown restless."

"It will do us no good to attack it directly. We must find and destroy the object it has bound its soul with," Locmire said.

"Ah, you must mean my phylactery. Do you expect to find it here, Wizard?" roared the Lich.

"No, I do not. I give you more credit than that," replied the Wizard.

"Well you are mistaken. My phylactery is here in this very palace."

This took Locmire by surprise. Why would he risk his soul being destroyed?

"If we can find it, we have a chance at leaving from here alive," Oggy replied.

"Oh, you will have your chance to find it. Just as many others have had their chance," replied the Lich.

The Lich leaned its bony head back, looked up to the ceiling, and let out a piercing screech. The palace began to rumble. Footsteps shook the ground. Something was coming, something large. From around a corner came a massive skeletal beast, growling and roaring its war cry.

"Oh my!" Golgar exclaimed.

"A dragon," said Oggy disbelievingly.

"I have always wanted to kill a dragon," Urganox said as he took a few steps forward. "Even if it is already dead."

"Oggy. Urganox," Lot said as he readied his weapons. "Can you two bring this beast down?"

"Yes," Oggy replied.

Urganox did not say a word but began to wrench the handle of his flail.

"Locmire, can you hold off the Lich for a time?" asked Lot.

The Wizard nodded his head and readied his staff.

"The rest of us will keep these walking dead off of your backs," Lot said.

"Draw the dragon away from the rest of us," Lot ordered.

"What do ye want me ta be doin?" asked Red.

"How is your arm?" asked Lot.

"Beddar," he replied.

"You can help us fight off these creatures," Lot answered.

"Ahh dat be good. Didn want to be fightin no dead Wizard noways."

Oggy and Urganox charged the dragon before he was able to make his way to the center of the palace. Locmire slowly walked toward the Lich.

"Ahhh, it has been a long time since I have had the pleasure of a proper duel with another of my kind. Come, Wizard! Let us begin," goaded the Lich.

"I am not your kind," Locmire replied loudly. "You are a disgrace to all Wizards."

Lot, Red, and the four Dainties began to fend off the never ending wave of decomposing corpses. Their line of defense was solid. Even though there was a multitude of the undead Dainties, they were not skilled combatants. They relied heavily on their numbers to overwhelm their foes. Dispatching of them came rather easily to the heroes. It was like beating a path through tall grass. Not even a single corpse came close to making its way past them. This was very fortunate since Locmire, Oggy, and Urganox had more on their plate than it seemed they could handle.

Locmire approached the Lich with his staff readied. He struck first. A fireball soared through the air, only to be countered by a flood of water.

"Very weak for your first strike," said the Lich.

"I do not wish to show you all of my tricks so soon," replied Locmire.

The Lich took aim at the ceiling above Locmire. A black blot flew from his staff, striking the ceiling and crumbling it down upon Locmire. Locmire slammed his staff into the ground creating a powerful uprising force that effortlessly cleared the falling debris. The Wizard retaliated with a spell that bound the Lich within a prism. The Lich was able to cast another counter spell. A black light erupted from within him that destroyed the prism. The Lich pointed his staff at Locmire and their deadly game of chess continued.

Urganox and Oggy were chipping away fragments of bone from the dragon's legs. They would land a strike and quickly evade the beast's counter attacks. The dragon was surprisingly fast for a creature consisting of only bone. In fact, he was a little too fast. He lashed out with his bony tail, like a whip, sending Urganox flying across the room. The Brazurkin slid across the floor and quickly made it back to his feet, charging the beast once again. The dragon was snapping its teeth and swiping its sharp claws at Oggy, who was narrowly evading the attacks. Oggy swung his hammer at the dragon, but the beast caught the head of the hammer in his teeth. Oggy frantically tried to tug his hammer free. Urganox came rushing in and smashed his flail into the side of the dragon's head. The bony reptile released his grip on Oggy's hammer and turned his fury toward Urganox.

The horde of corpses seemed to be dwindling, mostly because the Lich was not focused on summoning more of them. The Dainties were living up to their reputation as fearless warriors. They charged the horde head on and began to slice, bash, and crush their way through the ranks. Red and Lot were easily dismembering any of the straggling corpses that made their way past the ferocious little Dainties.

Lot heard Oggy call from across the room, "We could use a little help here!"

"Red!" Lot cried.

"Me be's on it."

Red spun around and began taking crack shots at the dragon. The pesky led balls did the trick as they found their target. The dragon turned, focusing his attention on Red, and began to stomp toward him.

"Oh boy," Red said, gulping down his words.

He fired off two more shots before he began to flee. The dragon got very close to the Pirate, but quickly turned to the other direction when Urganox's flail smashed into its back side. All three balls of his flail landed flush, sending small bits of bone clattering to the ground. Lot turned to see his three new friends fighting for their lives against this colossal beast. He knew he had to help.

"Erimack!" Lot called out. "Can you three handle the rest of these creatures?"

Erimack's large mallet turned one of the Dainties into a pile of blood and guts.

"We got this under control," Erimack said. "Go!"

"We do, eh?" Golgar asked as he saw Olaf running by with four of the dead Dainties clinging to his back and legs.

Zulp ran over and swatted the Dainties off of Olaf's back.

Lot nodded in return and rushed to Oggy's side.

The addition of the fourth warrior helped to even the odds. The dragon, at times, became confused with his plan of attack. It would begin to lash out with its tail, only to stop and change course as another of the warriors would strike it from behind.

Meanwhile, Locmire and the Lich were unleashing even more devastating spells on one another. A swarm of what looked like dead locusts came buzzing through the air toward Locmire. He jammed his staff into the ground creating a wall of fire, incinerating the insects as they darted toward him. Locmire immediately retaliated, but this time it was not just one fireball, but dozens. The Lich summoned twenty or more corpses right in front of him, hunkered down behind them, and took shelter from the blasts. The Lich returned fire once again.

The dragon was now in a rage. It was charging anyone who came too close. Once, it snagged Red by the collar of his leather armor with its razor sharp teeth. It began to pull him off of the ground. The Pirate took his razor sharp cutlass, swiped it behind his back, cut himself free, and fell to the ground.

"I do not know how much longer we can keep this up," Oggy cried.

"This beast seems to have no weak point," Urganox added.

This was true. The beast was not slowing down, only speeding up its attacks. Bits of fragmented bone lay scattered about the floor, but they had only managed to inflict minor damage to the beast. The battle was starting to seem unwinnable when Lot had an idea.

He called out to Red, "How much of the powder do you have left that fire the balls from your weapon?"

"Nuff. Why?"

"Can you make the powder explode?" asked Lot.

"Me tinks so. Me be needin time to fix ur up."

"Time we do not have," replied the Thief.

"Aye! Me gets to work den."

The Pirate retreated from the battle, looking for supplies as he went. After minutes, Red came rushing back to Lot.

"Me got ye sumpin dat go BOOM!"

"Not a moment too soon," Lot answered as he jumped over the dragon's lashing tail. "How did you get the material to make this device?" Lot asked.

"Ye'd be surprised at da stuff layin round here."

"How do I make it explode?" Lot asked.

"Juss add far!"

Lot ran to Red and took a small wooden barrel from him. The dragon was in hot pursuit. As it passed, Red took a few more shots, distracting it long enough for Lot to think of a plan. He circled back to where Urganox and Oggy were awaiting the dragon's return.

"I need you two to distract it long enough for me to get in behind it," Lot yelled.

They both nodded their heads. The dragon came back around and the two warriors stepped in front of it. They began to violently chip away at its front legs. The dragon was now snapping its teeth at them, like a cornered mutt. Oggy slammed his war hammer into the area between the dragon's eyes, providing Lot the break he was looking for. Quickly, he ran underneath the dragon and began to shimmy up its back leg. He crouched down on the beast's large hip bone, leaped upwards, and climbed into the hollow rib cage. The dragon became aware of the intruder and began to flail violently. Lot wrapped his legs around one of the dragon's ribs and held on for dear life. His hands were fast at work securing the makeshift bomb to one of the many exposed vertebrae. Finally, he had firmly secured the bomb to the dragon and fell out from where its stomach should have been. He hit the floor and scrambled away as the skeletal reptile lashed out at him with its large claws.

"The barrel is secure. Now we just need fire to ignite the blast!" Lot cried out.

Locmire had just deflected a black swirling spell when he heard the word "fire". He cast his next spell at the Lich and sent a fireball tearing through the palace, straight for the dragon.

"Get down!" Lot cried.

It was perfect timing. The dragon had unexpectedly advanced on the four Dainties who had just killed the last of the walking corpses. It stood on its hind legs, preparing to attack the unsuspecting Dainties when the fireball found its mark. It smashed into the barrel creating a thunderous explosion that scattered the dragon into thousands of pieces, but not before it was able to deal out one final blow.

Lot, and the others, quickly turned to Locmire as a loud scream pierced their ears.

The Lich was standing, arms spread wide, in front of the throne. It could not believe what had just happened. Its phylactery had been destroyed. The confidence that the skeletal Wizard possessed only moments ago, dissipated. It knew that death knocked on its door, and this time it would be the final death. Locmire leaned forward, bending at the hips with his arms stretched wide, as he summoned magic from somewhere deep within himself. A bright light began to radiate from him. He stormily unleashed a ball of blinding light that disintegrated its target upon impact. All that remained of the Lich was white dust floating through the air.

"From sand we were created and sand we will return," Locmire said under his breath.

It was over. A battle that, at one point, seemed futile was now over, and they had emerged victorious. Locmire made his way back to the rest of the group where they were all standing in a circle. The Wizard's smile slowly faded. It was hard to smile when a companion had met his end.

# Chapter 41

# Laid to Rest

It was the wee hours of dawn when Thaddeus placed the last of the large stones on the mound of dirt that concealed the remains of Dysut. In the short period of time that Dysut was in the clutches of the Everafter, every one of his limbs had been removed from his torso. Thaddeus did not know why, but he felt bad for the Faun. He seemed like a loving creature, and Thaddeus felt that a proper burial was the least he could do.

Caleb had fastened two pieces of wood together forming a cross. He placed it at the head of the grave and pulled out a worn leather bound book from his satchel. The book had a word on it that the others had never seen before. The word was "HOLY BIBLE." He clutched the worn book to his chest and began to speak under his breath. When Caleb got to his feet, he found the others standing around him, staring curiously.

"What is that symbol you place on his grave?" Rasmere asked.

"It is a cross," Caleb replied.

"What is its significance?" asked the Engenium once more.

"It is a symbol for the love of Christ," Caleb replied.

"What is a Christ?" Rasmere asked.

Caleb then realized that the world he was currently in did not know of Christianity.

"He is who I put my faith in. He was the savior of my world. This cross represents his love," Caleb replied.

Rasmere, along with the others, seemed confused by this. They had never heard of such a person before in their world, but after all, Caleb was not from their world.

"What is the book you hold?" asked Thaddeus.

"It is called the Bible. It is the word, laws, and promises of my God," answered Caleb.

"Ah," replied Thaddeus. "The gods. This Christ you speak of is another god."

Caleb became greatly offended by this statement. He looked as if he had just been slapped across the face. He took to his feet and said, "He is not just another god. He is the God, the only God."

Thaddeus could sense that he had somehow offended Caleb. He decided it best to let this conversation die down.

"Well, you shall have to tell me more about your God when we have the time," Thaddeus said in a calm voice.

"I would like that," Caleb replied as his anger dwindled.

After a short period of time they started to gather their things and prepare for the journey ahead. They still had a long way to go; it was at least another two day trip to where they had planned to meet up with Locmire and the others. Given their current circumstances it would most likely be another three days.

Rasmere had just returned from the forest with a dozen small rabbits and began to field dress them. He decided it would be nice for his traveling companions to have a hot meal before they departed. The sun had fully risen above the horizon, and a thin layer of fog was disappearing into the dense forest.

"Need a light?" asked River.

The Forest Engenium looked up to her and nodded his head, "Yes. A small fire would be great."

With a wave of her staff, and a muttered word, a small fire sprung from the ground.

"Thank you," Rasmere replied. "I find your magical abilities fascinating. I wish I possessed your talents."

"You're welcome," River said as she stood looking down at him. "Do you need anything else?"

"No," he simply stated.

"You can fetch some water," Azonis said as he strolled over next to them.

River was appalled by his chauvinism. She replied, "I am no slave. I do not fetch anything for anyone."

"Do you not know who you are speaking to?" Azonis asked sharply.

"Oh, but I do, my Lord," River said sarcastically, as she gave an over exaggerated bow.

"You mind your tongue, woman," said the Sestian angrily.

At those words Rasmere bolted up and came nose to nose with Azonis.

"You will mind your tongue," declared Rasmere.

Azonis began to speak, but Rasmere did not give him the chance.

"You will order no one around anymore. Out here, you are not the Sestian of Lasticall. You are no more special than any of the rest of us. You are no longer my master, and with that being said, I suggest you be the one who minds his tongue."

Azonis was speechless. In all of his life, no one had ever spoken to him this way, especially a Forest Engenium. He knew that if he did not act now, all of the respect he had worked so hard to gain would be lost. He drew his sword and readied his shield. Rasmere jumped back and drew the string of his bow.

"That is enough!" Thaddeus called out. "All of you! That is enough!"

Silence fell over the camp. All eyes fell upon the King.

"This ends now!" he roared. "All of these petty differences must be put aside, or we will fail. Whatever problems we have had are now behind us. This ends now, or I will end it for you."

An uneasy silence loomed in the air. Tension was setting in like a thick fog.

He began again. "We may fail for many reasons. We may be out matched and outnumbered. We may be slaughtered during our next encounter with this darkness that plagues our lands. There are a multitude of circumstance that could potentially cause our demise. I can tell you that we will NOT fail because we are unable to put aside our egos, our personal differences, and our pride." He gave them a final disgusted look and marched off into the forest.

The others stood awkwardly, feeling ashamed of themselves. Thaddeus's words seemed to really find a home with Azonis.

"I regret the remarks that I made moments ago. My comments were very unbecoming of me. I ask for your forgiveness," the High Engenium said as he took a knee and bowed to River.

"As do I," replied the Mage.

He stood back up, swallowed his pride, and addressed Rasmere. "My friend," he said as he fell to a knee. "I truly regret my actions toward you. You have been a loyal Hand and, at times, friend. I promise you that when this is all over I will dramatically change the way your people are treated in our kingdom. I am truly sorry for my poor behavior. It has been a trying time for us all."

Rasmere stood with a look of contentment on his face. We have heard these promises too many times before, he thought. "Apology accepted," replied Rasmere as he quickly knelt back down and returned to preparing his kill.

The sun was now in full bloom as they finished their breakfast, which was an awkward meal to say the least. The events that had transpired earlier were still looming in everyone's minds. At least their stomachs were full, and they had gotten a short rest.

Thaddeus's temperament was at its boiling point after the squabble between his fellow party members. It was evident that he was at his breaking point, and it would be best if no one provoked him any further. The day had started out on a bad note, and their already long trip had been made even longer as their horses were driven off during the attack at their camp the night before. They had much ground to cover and time was precious. Thaddeus feared that his present company, not Hasbarie, was going to pose the most serious threat. For the moment, the apologies had been made, the tempers had calmed and the group was acting pleasant enough toward one another.

# Chapter 42

# A Time to Mourn

"Erimack . . . Erimack," Zulp said, sobbing uncontrollably.

"You cannot die," Olaf pleaded as he cradled Erimack's lifeless body in his arms.

Moments before the dragon had been destroyed, it lashed out one final time. Its bony tail had struck Erimack's chest, cutting the tiny Dainty almost completely in half at the waist.

Golgar looked to Locmire and pleaded, "Please, you must do something."

Locmire, with a grim look on his face, said, "I am sorry, my friend. There is nothing I can do."

Zulp stood from his knees and said, "What do you mean there is nothing you can do? You are a Wizard. Use your magic and bring our brother back!"

Regretfully, Locmire said, "There are some things that magic cannot do. Sadly, death has precedence over magic."

"You lie!" Zulp shouted as he exploded forward to attack Locmire.

Oggy quickly stepped in and wrapped his arms around Zulp and wrestled him to his knees. For a moment, Zulp fought fiercely to return to his feet, then his body became limp, and he collapsed into Oggy's arms. His breath became labored with uncontrollable sobbing.

"I am sorry for your loss. Even though your brother is gone, his spirit will carry on. He was a brave warrior, and when I retake my throne, I will honor him with a warrior's burial. 'Tis the least that I can do," Oggy said.

Zulp looked up at Oggy with plump tears in his eyes and said, "You would really do that?"

"Yes, Zulp. Not because I liked Erimack, which I did, but because he was, in fact, a true warrior," Oggy said softly.

Urganox walked over to Olaf and stared down at him. After a moment of carefully choosing his words, he said, "It would be an honor for me to transport a fallen warrior such as your brother back to the palace."

Olaf slowly raised his stare to meet that of Urganox and said, "King Urganox, you are too kind. Although, I do not wish to burden you with such a laborious task, it would do me well to see my brother honored in such a way."

Urganox bent to one knee and took Erimack from Olaf's arms.

Olaf fell to his knees and bowed at the feet of King Urganox saying, "My King, it is an honor to have one such as yourself show such respect to our brother. You forever have a friend in me."

"As do you," the Brazurkin replied.

After everyone had a moment to regain their composure, Lot walked over to Locmire and Oggy, and said, "I hope I am not rushing things, but we really must be making our way back. We still have much to do."

Oggy began to speak, but something stopped him dead in his tracks. His eyes were fixated upon the body of a recently reanimated Daintish corpse. Tears flooded his eyes. Lying among the dead was his son, Biddle.

"Oh no," Oggy said.

He walked over to where his son lay. His flesh was rotten, and a hole was in the center of his forehead. It seemed that Red's aim had been true. Oggy stared wide eyed at his son, quietly, for a moment. The rest of his companions came over to him but did not say a word.

Finally Oggy said, "He was brave. All he wanted to do was make me proud." He wiped a tear from his eye. "And that he did."

Oggy bent over, picked up his son, and carried him outside of the forgotten palace. Once outside, Oggy carefully placed his son on the ground and began to pick up chunks of pizenore that had fallen from the roof of the cavern. He started piling them onto his son's body. The rest of the group pitched in to help. No one muttered a word.

When the job was done, Oggy stood and stared at the mound of pizenore. He wiped a tear from his eye and said, "May you now find peace, my son."

Red came over with Biddle's shield that Oggy had found earlier. He walked over to the grave and laid it face up upon the mound of earth and said, "So he be's remembered properly."

"Thank you, Red," Oggy replied as he shook Red's hand.

Locmire stood next to the grave and touched it with his staff. Hundreds of beautiful flowers sprung up all over the makeshift burial plot.

Oggy's eyes swelled once more as he said, "Thank you, Wizard."

"These flowers will represent your son's memory, as it is in your heart. They will never die. They can never be plucked. As long as this world stands, so will these flowers."

With that, Oggy burst into tears. Golgar and the other two Dainties embraced him, but he accepted their showing of love for only a moment.

Oggy pulled away from them and took a step back. He looked at the group and said, "Come, I have a throne to retake."

As Oggy walked back to the palace, Locmire could not help but to admire him. What he lacks in size, he makes up for in strength.

# Chapter 43

# The Door

Lot led the way through the palace and into the large shaft that undoubtedly led back to Oggy's kingdom. It was a safe journey, as they did not run into any more adversaries or Daintish traps. The hardest thing about this part of their journey was the long spiraling staircase that seemed to go upward for miles. After an hour, they came to the end of the staircase. A small landing was at its end, and a large golden door stood in their path.

"Where do you suppose it leads?" Lot asked.

"I know exactly where it leads," Oggy replied.

"Where?" asked Lot.

"Into the throne room," Oggy said.

"The throne room!" Lot said with surprise in his voice.

"Yes, the throne room. It actually stands directly behind the throne. I never knew what it was or where it led. No one did. We just thought it decoration," Oggy stated.

"Arrr! Let's open it up den!" Red exclaimed.

Lot looked to Locmire and received the go ahead. He pushed the large golden door, but it did not budge. He pushed again, this time with all of his might, but it still did not open.

"Let me try," Oggy said.

Oggy put his shoulder to the door and bent his knees. He pushed with everything his tiny, but amazingly strong, body had. Once again it did not move.

"Urganox! Come move dis eer door," Red exclaimed.

"I do not think that might will be able to open this door," Locmire said as he moved his way closer to the door. He examined it closely and said, "Ah yes, 'tis a door of limited use."

"A what?" Lot asked.

"A door of limited use is a door that has been magically imbued. It will open and close freely, but only for a short while. After it has been used the maximum number of times, it will never open again," the Wizard stated.

"I have never met a door that I cannot open," replied Lot.

"Lookin like ye have now," Red said, erupting with laughter.

Lot gave Red a sarcastic look and said, "Ha-ha. Laugh it up."

"Can you open it, Wizard? I do not know if I have it in me to back track to the Broken Lamien," Oggy said.

Locmire smiled and said, "These doors were created as a security feature. I have no doubts that when the Dainties of old broke through from underneath and started the new city, they traveled back and forth using this door to collect their valuable possessions from below. The door was then sealed shut. It was to forever keep the dangers that lurk down here from entering the new city. Only a Wizard could create such a door."

Locmire put his hands on the door. He bowed his head and a radiant white light began to grow from the golden door. Suddenly, the door was no longer made of gold, but from wood. A brass handle appeared in front of them.

"After you," Locmire said as he motioned Oggy toward the door.

# Chapter 44

# The Fineska

Oggy slowly turned the brass handle and cracked open the wooden door. He instantly knew he was inside of his palace, although his view was obstructed by the back of the throne. Oggy stood silently, listening for the slightest sound. The throne room seemed empty at first, until the front doors swung open. He turned to his companions and placed a finger over his lips for them to hold their tongues. He heard several sets of footsteps approach the throne. Then the despicable Festus Rottenback spoke.

"You found them, eh?" he asked. "I know that you have found them or you would not return to me empty handed."

"No, my King. We have not-," the Dainty was interrupted.

"Silence!" Rottenback screamed. "Why have you not found them?"

"We cannot-," he was interrupted again.

"Silence! I thought I already told you to stay your tongue?" Rottenback took a tankard, emptied it down his gullet, and threw it aside. "Do not tell me that you still cannot break through the trap door in the Broken Lamien. It has been two days since they fled. What could be so hard about breaking through a piece of wood?"

The Dainty stood silent with a look of fear on his face.

"Answer me!" Rottenback roared.

"My King, we have broken through the door itself, but the Wizard's enchantment is proving very difficult to penetrate," the Dainty nervously replied.

"If you have not yet broken through, why do you stand here in front of me?" Festus asked.

"My King, my men are tired. I came to ask you if we could break for sleep until the morning," he replied.

Rage grew over Rottenback's face. He began to breathe heavily. Drool hung from his lip. He stood up to scold the Dainty once more, but he heard a strange sound come from behind his throne.

"Buuuwaattt."

Oggy turned and looked behind him.

"Sorry," Red said as he waved the foul smelling belch away from his face.

"We must move, now!" Lot whispered.

"What was that?" Festus questioned loudly.

Suddenly, Oggius Stonefist appeared from behind the throne, and he was not alone. Surprise overtook Rottenback as he plopped back down at the appearance of his unexpected guests. Oggy and his companions made their way to the front of the throne and stood boldly in front of the King. Urganox stepped to the side and placed Erimack's body on a table and rejoined his friends.

"It seems that you are sitting on my throne," Oggy said.

Festus looked at him for a moment, bewildered, and then let out an enormous laugh.

"Well, well, well. If it is not the former King and his band of treasonous miscreants," Rottenback said as he stood up. "Guards! Seize these traitors. Kill them all except for the green one, save him for me."

The royal guards began to approach the group. They drew their weapons and prepared for battle.

"You do not want to do this," Oggy pleaded with the guards, but they paid him no mind.

The scuffle that ensued turned into a miniature war. It started out as ten guards against Oggy and his seven other companions. Then over a hundred Daintish guards filled the throne room.

Oggy yelled at the top of his lungs, "Try not to kill any of them. They are good Dainties. They are only performing their duty."

"Easy for you to say," Urganox yelled as his shield was absorbing dozens of strikes.

Lot turned his short swords around so that the blades were tucked in along his forearms. He was using the hilts of his swords to render the guards unconscious. Urganox was sending the tiny Dainties flying across the room with his shield, often using it as a battling ram. Golgar, Zulp, and Olaf were obliterating the midsections of as many guards as possible, using the blunt ends of their weapons to take the wind from their bodies. Red, on the other hand, was using more unconventional means at keeping his attackers at bay. Twenty or more Dainties surrounded him. He sheathed his cutlasses and drew his pistol. He fired four, quick shots into four, little legs. The Dainties fell to the ground screaming in misery. He held the rest of his attackers at bay by gun point.

"What in Kazshriek-Ez-Val's name! Red, are you killing them?" Oggy screamed.

"Nah. Juss givin dem a lil sting. Dey will live," the Pirate chuckled.

Oggy was faring much better. Most of the guards were still loyal to him. When face to face with the former King, most of the guards would simply fall down and pretend to be incapacitated. The few guards who did not yield, Oggy beat them senseless.

Locmire was waving his staff in the air in a circular motion. High above the floor, a handful of Dainties were spinning out of control. The Wizard brought his staff down and the Dainties fell to the floor, landing with a thud, rendering them unconscious.

King Festus Rottenback was standing at the throne in disbelief. His guards were either pretending to be defeated at the hands of Oggius or were actually being defeated. His blood began to boil. He knew that he had to do something or his throne would surely be lost.

"Enough!" Rottenback roared.

The fighting slowly died down. Urganox was the last to stop fighting. He held two Dainties by the ankles, spinning them in circles, and then released them into the air.

Oggy shouted, "That is enough, Urganox."

The Brazurkin smiled his toothy grin and nodded his head.

"Are you ready to hand over the throne?" Oggy asked.

Festus smiled and said, "I am ready for a fineska!"

Oggy could not believe that Festus had called for a fineska.

"What be's a finesther?" Red asked.

"A fineska you fool!" Rottenback roared. "A fineska is a duel for the throne. The King picks his best warrior, and a combatant of his choosing to vie for the throne. Do you accept?" he asked.

Oggy knew that a fineska was one sided. Usually the King would pick his strongest warrior and pit him against a weaker foe that would fight for the throne under the name of his representative. In this case, the representative would be Oggy. If that was not lopsided enough, the King could also pick the type of combat. Oggy turned and looked at his companions.

"Never has there been a time that a challenger has won a fineska. I simply cannot allow any of you to put yourselves in harm's way to aid me."

"I will fight for you, my King," Golgar, Zulp, and Olaf said in unison.

"I will destroy anyone who stands in my way," Urganox said through gritted teeth.

"I will also willingly fight on your behalf," Lot said.

"Arrr! Ye be's me friend. Me always willin to fight for a friend," said Red.

"As will I," Locmire replied.

A smile grew on the face of Oggy. His new companions did not hesitate to offer whatever aid they could to help he retake his throne, just as they said they would. He turned to Festus and said, "I accept."

"Excellent!" Festus said as he walked down from the throne. "The fight will be hand to hand combat. No weapons or magic."

He began to walk back and forth in front of Oggy and his friends.

"How's about me and you?" Urganox asked.

"As much as I look forward to disemboweling you, no." He stopped in front of Locmire. "Wizard, come forth."

Lot could not believe that he had just picked Locmire. Out of the entire group, Locmire had to be the least prepared for hand to hand combat. What a cowardly move, Lot thought.

"No!" Oggy roared. "Not him. Take me in his place."

"Oh yes, Oggy. You agreed. The fineska is set to begin," Rottenback said with a smirk.

"It will be fine. Do not worry, friend," Locmire said as he removed his robe.

Underneath his robes he wore a sleeveless gray jerkin and matching breeches. His body was well toned. Veins protruded over areas of thick muscle along his arms. There was something strange about Locmire. He seemed to have a glow about him. One look at the Wizard, and Rottenback was taken by surprise.

He is fit for an old man. Maybe he can take care of himself, Lot thought.

"Now it is time you meet my warrior," Festus said as he turned to a side chamber and called out, "Lump! Get your sorry carcass over here!"

From the side chamber a large, hulking Dainty strode out. He was four times the size of a normal Dainty but he was, in fact, a Dainty, or at least some variation of one. He was massive. His body was thick like a tree. His size trumped that of Urganox. He came over and stood in front of Locmire. The Wizard looked up at him.

"What do you think of my warrior?" Rottenback asked. "My brother may be short on brains, but he makes up for it with size."

"I would crush him," Urganox said.

Lump looked toward Urganox and let out a deep growl. Slobber fell from his lips. I can see the resemblance, Oggy thought.

Lump was breathing heavily, his shoulders rising with each breath. Locmire stood calmly.

Festus decided he would give his brother the upper hand and without notice yelled, "Kill him!"

Lump swatted Locmire across the room with a gigantic hand, but the Wizard did not fall. He extended his rear leg, bent the other, and simply slid to a stop. Lump lowered his head and charged. Locmire stood still. When the giant Dainty came within striking distance, Locmire extended his leg and drove it into Lump's knee cap, stopping him dead in his tracks. Lump grabbed his knee and screamed out in pain. Lump drew back his large arm and swung a wide looping blow at the Wizard. Locmire caught Lump by the wrist with his right hand, rolled into his body, brought his left elbow up, and planted it square on Lump's chin. The Dainty reeled backwards. Locmire charged forward, jumped into the air, and landed a smashing blow on Lump's chin, which sent him crashing to the ground, defeated.

Locmire turned to walk away, victorious, but Rottenback yelled, "I forgot to mention. This is a fight to the death!"

In a split second Lump was back onto his feet, and Locmire was being hoisted high in the air. Lump effortlessly flung him across the room. This time, the Wizard did not land on his feet. His back smashed into a pillar in the middle of the throne room producing a loud crack. Locmire slid down to the ground, and Lump was on him in an instant. Urganox began to run to Locmire's aid, but Oggy stayed him with his arm, shaking his head no.

Lump bent over and picked Locmire up by both sides of his head and held him high into the air. Lump's giant mitts wrapped around the entirety of Locmire's head. He pulled Locmire close to his face and roared loudly, exposing his large squared teeth. This was the break Locmire needed.

The Wizard drove his arm forward, using the space between his thumb and index finger, smashing in into Lump's throat. The Dainty released his grip on Locmire and clenched his throat, gasping for air. Locmire quickly went to work. He drove his foot once more into the knee of Lump and collapsed him to a kneeling position. Lump swung wildly at the Wizard, but Locmire was able to duck his blow. Locmire came back up and gave Lump five more rapid thrusts to the throat.

Locmire began to walk away as Lump tore at his neck. His eyes rolled back into his head, and he plummeted face first onto the floor, like a fallen tree. Locmire walked back to his party, his eyes upon Festus the entire time.

Never have I seen a man fight like that, Lot thought.

Festus was horrified. His plan had backfired, and his brother lay dead on the floor. It was all falling apart.

"Seize them!" Festus yelled, but none of the guards moved.

Oggy marched toward Festus with a great authority about him. The King looked at Oggy and said, "Fine! Take it. I never wanted it-," but his words were silenced as Oggy's war hammer exploded Festus Rottenback's head like a melon. Blood flew across the throne room, and the Dainties began screaming, "The King is dead. Long live the King."

Oggy stood, looking over his palace. A feeling of joy came over him. A wide grin grew upon his face. He was finally back where he belonged. Urganox opened the satchel on Lot's side and removed a jeweled crown. He walked over to Oggy. Oggy bent forward and Urganox placed the crown upon his head. It was a perfect fit. Oggy turned and walked to his throne. He wiped the crumbs from his seat, turned, and sat down. The Dainties erupted into cheers. Oggius Stonefist, the rightful King, had retaken his throne.

# Chapter 45

# Celebration

Every Dainty in the entire kingdom was at the exquisite banquet to celebrate King Oggius reclaiming his throne. King Oggius Stonefist and his companions sat at the front of the banquet hall around a table carved entirely from one massively large diamond. Meat, bread, and desserts were piled high upon the table, and drink flowed freely. Oggius and his companions, who had not eaten for days, devoured the tender meat, plump bread and tasty desserts.

Lot picked up a leg of meat of unknown origin and considered it carefully. He wondered where the Dainties got their meat. What kind of meat is this? I am afraid if I ask I will leave the table with an empty stomach, he thought. He looked at the leg of meat again and took a ravenous bite, washing it down with a tankard of Pizenchaffe's finest drink.

Oggius's guests were a bit large for the tiny Daintish furniture, but they were able to sit and eat comfortably, all of them except for Urganox. The Brazurkin sat uneasily on the edge of the table. He stuck out like a, well . . . like a Brazurkin in a room full of Dainties.

Everyone was in an exceptionally joyful mood. They were celebrating not only the return of Oggius Stonefist, but his triumph over the Lich that troubled the depths beneath their city. Everyone was glad to see the end of Festus Rottenback's reign and the beginning of a new era with the rightful heir back on the throne where he belonged. The Dainties spent the evening singing, dancing, drinking, and gorging themselves on the exquisite food. It was one of the grandest celebrations the city had ever hosted. At one point, all activity ceased while the Dainties watched in amazement as Locmire produced a fireworks display from the end of his staff. For a brief moment, the bright lights and loud rapport frightened the Dainties. They then stood frozen in awe, mesmerized by the colorful eruptions of red, blue, green, yellow, and white light.

After his stomach was fit to burst, Red got up from the table and strutted to the middle of the room where a large group of Dainties were dancing the night away.

"What does he think he is doing?" Urganox asked.

"I am afraid to even guess. It has become apparent that one never knows what to expect from Red," Locmire replied.

"He better hope he does not find himself in trouble. I am resting my body and soul. I do not have another altercation left in me tonight," Urganox replied.

Lot asked with a smile, "Do you not?"

Urganox grinned and said, "Well, maybe I have one more altercation left in me."

"Look," Oggius said as he pointed toward Red.

The music suddenly picked up a step. Red had a plump, but cute, female Dainty in his arms dancing across the floor. Her feet were dangling high above the floor. The Dainties were all laughing uncontrollably and clapping their hands to the beat of the music.

"I do not know his purpose, but I am glad he is accompanying us on our journey," Oggius said as he finished a large goblet of water.

"Maybe he was sent here solely for our amusement," Lot added.

"He has grown on me," Urganox said. This was a statement the Brazurkin had never imagined possible upon first meeting the strange Human.

Red came waltzing across the floor with two female Dainties at his side. He danced his way over to Urganox and released one of the Dainties into his direction. She grabbed the Brazurkin's hand, and after a moment of hesitation, he allowed her to lead him onto the dance floor. He picked her up in his arms and waltzed her across the room.

"Well, would you look there," Lot said.

"Wonders never cease to amaze me," Locmire said with a grin.

"It will do him good. He needs to lighten up a little," Oggy said.

"Let us hope that no one steps on his toes," Lot chuckled.

"I had thought him a hateful, sour, Goat King. Now, he forever has my respect," Zulp said.

"That he does," Olaf added.

"Speaking of wonders. . . I want to know where you learned to fight like that, Locmire?" Oggy asked, changing the subject before the two grief stricken Dainties became emotional.

"Wizards are skilled in many areas. Hand to hand combat can become invaluable from time to time. Like it did in the fineska," Locmire replied.

"Your combat skills were most impressive," Oggy replied.

"And here we all thought you were just a feeble old man," Lot said with a grin.

"I am an old man, but looks can be deceiving," the Wizard replied.

As the night carried on, the heroes made the best of their short time of relaxation. In the back of everyone's minds the quest to destroy Hasbarie lingered, but first, Oggy had a big decision to make. It was Golgar who finally asked the King of his intentions.

"My King," Golgar said as he took an empty seat next to Oggy. "I do not wish to be the one who brings your spirit down, but when do you plan on announcing your departure?"

Oggy mulled over Golgar's words for a moment and said, "No time better than the present. I might as well get this over with."

The King abruptly left his table and began to make his way to the middle of the room. It took him several minutes to reach his destination. Almost every Dainty in the city stopped him to offer their congratulations. The citizens of his kingdom had missed him terribly. Finally, he made it to the middle of the room and motioned for everyone to settle down. The crowd quickly went silent.

"Friends and loved ones. First of all, I want to thank each and every one of you for coming out to the feast," Oggy said.

The crowd erupted with applause.

"We love you Oggy!" someone cried.

Laughter rang out as Red's dancing partner bellowed, "Marry me, Oggy!"

Oggy smiled and said, "The Stonefist name has been restored to its former glory. The throne is occupied by the bloodline that has proudly served Pizenchaffe since the beginning of our existence."

The crowd roared, "All hail King Stonefist!"

"The Lich that plagued the old Daintish city has been destroyed with the help of my newfound friends. Alas, he has not been defeated without great loss," the crowd went silent. "My son, Biddle, lost his life trying to help secure the safety of our city. Erimack, brother to Zulp and Olaf, lost his life as well, not to mention the multitude of other fearless warriors. These Dainties were courageous warriors, and after our celebration tonight, we will honor them."

The Dainties broke out in applause once more.

"I am glad that I have been able to retake my place on the throne. I am glad that I once again have the opportunity to lead Pizenchaffe. I am glad that my people welcome my return."

The Dainties applauded him again.

"There is much work to be done to right the wrongs of the previous King. I am prepared to correct these mistakes, but at the moment, there are more pressing matters that require my attention. In the morning, I will be leaving Pizenchaffe for an unknown period of time and traveling to the surface to help destroy a great evil that threatens not just the Dainties, but all of Calencia."

Gasps and whispered murmurs filled the air.

The blacksmith cried out, "Who will lead us in your absence? We need your guidance, King Stonefist."

"Although I will not be here, Pizenchaffe will be led in a fair and just direction. In my absence, I appoint. . . Golgar Stout as acting King," Oggy said.

Golgar was taken by surprise. He dropped his tankard on the diamond table, which produced a loud clang that attracted everyone's attention to him.

"Come here, Golgar," Oggy said.

Golgar stumbled down to where the King stood. He was nervous. Sweat rolled down his forehead and shot off of the end of his round nose.

"Golgar Stout," Oggy said.

"Yes, my King," he replied.

"Do you swear on your family name that you will do everything in your power to protect the city of Pizenchaffe and all of its residents?" Oggy asked.

"Yes, my King."

"Do you swear to lead our city without discrimination or bias?"

"Yes, my King."

"As King of Pizenchaffe you must be prepared to lay down your life to protect the city and its citizens from all threats, whether it be a threat from the surface, the bowels or from within the city itself. Are you prepared to lay down your life for your city and its occupants?"

"Yes."

"Golgar Stout," Oggy said commandingly. "I, King Oggius Stonefist, appoint you acting King of Pizenchaffe. You shall take control of the city as soon as I depart. Be diligent with your duties. Be fair with our people. Be courageous when confronted with danger. Be proud of who we are. Be the Dainty I know you to be."

"You have my word, my King."

Oggy removed the crown from his head and placed it upon the head of Golgar. Golgar received a tumultuous applause. Even under the servitude of Festus Rottenback, Golgar Stout was still one of the most respected Dainties in all of Pizenchaffe. To Oggy, and the citizens of Pizenchaffe, Golgar was the only choice to fill the throne in his absence.

"Now," Oggy said. "Zulp and Olaf, come down here."

Zulp and Olaf looked at one another questioningly. They met Oggy and Golgar in the middle of the room.

"Golgar, now that you are King, you need trusted guards at your side," Oggy said as he turned to the two Dainties.

Zulp and Olaf looked at one another. Both of their jaws were wide open.

"Zulp and Olaf Ironside, do you swear on your family name that you will lay down your life for your King? Do you promise to be honest and true to your King? Do you promise to loyally serve only your King?" Oggy asked.

In unison they said, "Yes, my King."

"Zulp and Olaf Ironside, I now appoint you royal guards to the King. This is the highest title that one can receive, other than King himself. Do not let your kingdom down."

"Never," they replied.

"For as long as a Stonefist or Stout holds the throne, your family will be considered royalty and your male children will become royal guards to the King," Oggy said as two Dainties presented Olaf and Zulp with an immaculate set of pizenore armor and two pizenore battle axes. Zulp and Olaf stood marveling at their new attire and weaponry.

Oggy looked around at everyone in the room and said, "Let us celebrate!"

The merry little Dainties commenced the celebration, and Red began to dance once more.

Urganox walked over to Oggy, extended his hand and said, "You are the very definition of a king. You have my utmost respect and my friendship."

"As do you mine, King Urganox Skullsplitter. I am confident that after this is all over, you will rebuild your kingdom. I give you my word that the Dainties will help in any way that we can," Oggy replied.

"Thank you," Urganox said as he smacked Oggy on the shoulder and walked away.

A nod of respect from King Urganox did a lot to lift Oggy's spirits.

Locmire and Lot came over to Oggy. Lot was barely able to stand. If not for the shoulder of Locmire, the Thief would surely have hit the ground.

"You handled that well," Locmire said.

"You think so, eh? It is a hard thing to do," Oggy said with tears in his eyes.

"You know . . . retake your throne and a few hours later give it up once more. I know it is only temporary, but it is still hard."

"You could not have picked a more suitable Dainty to act in your place, and with those two at his side," Locmire pointed at Zulp and Olaf. "I am certain your city will prosper."

"I hope you are right, Wizard," Oggy replied.

"I hate to cut this short, but as you can see I have my hands full," Locmire said as Lot began to slip from his grip. The Wizard repositioned him around his shoulder. "We must turn in for the night."

"Very well, I will have someone escort you to your chambers. The good thing about Daintish lodgings is that we do believe in oversized beds. You all should have a very good night's sleep," Oggy replied.

"Thank you for your hospitality," Locmire said.

"You need not thank me for anything. I owe everything to you. Fate sent you here on your quest, and in the process, helped me regain my throne. I am forever in your debt," Oggy said.

"I am glad that we were able to help you," Locmire said. "Will you be turning in as well?"

"No, I think not. I do believe that I will stay up and enjoy the celebration for as long as I can," Oggy said.

Locmire nodded his head and turned to follow their escorts to the guest quarters. Urganox came over, picked Lot up, and slung him over his shoulder.

"Do we need to get Red?" Urganox asked.

Locmire looked at the Pirate, who was now in a heated argument with a group of jealous Daintish men, and said, "Let him enjoy himself for a bit more."

# Chapter 46

# Departure from Pizenchaffe

Oggy woke early. It seemed that he had fallen asleep on his throne. He looked around the banquet hall. Everyone was gone except for Red, who was passed out under a table.

The previous night had been good. After the banquet had ended, the burial ceremony for Erimack began. Erimack's ashes still smoldered in the pizenore casket in the middle of the banquet hall. He would have liked to have seen his ceremony, Oggy thought. Oggy stood up from his throne and stretched his worn body. The past few days had been hard. His bones popped and cracked with every bend. After a few moments, he felt limber enough to stir. He walked over to the table and shook Red awake.

"Time to get up, my friend. We have much to do," Oggy said.

"Arrr! Me needs a drink," Red replied.

"After last night's celebration, I fear Pizenchaffe runs dry," the king said with a smile.

Red made his way to his feet and held his hand to his forehead.

"Me head be's bustin," the Pirate said.

"See, Lot," Urganox said as he pointed toward Red. "You are not the only one."

"That does nothing to make me feel better," Lot replied as he held his hand to his head.

Locmire came and tapped his staff to Lot's head and then to Red's.

"Better?" Locmire asked.

Much to their surprise, their headaches were gone.

"Thank ye," Red said.

Locmire nodded.

"Oggius, I fear it is time for us to depart," Locmire said.

"I know," Oggy replied as he stared around the room. "You all go ahead and make your way outside. I will be there shortly."

"Certainly," said Locmire.

The group left from the palace and made their way toward the exit to the surface. Oggy walked around the banquet hall for several moments. It tortured his soul to leave now. Just as quickly as he regained his throne, it was now time to depart for an unknown period of time. As he walked past the last table in the room, he noticed half of a jug of Pizenchaffe's finest. He picked it up, put it to his lips, hesitated, sat it back down on the table, and left the room.

When Oggy finally made his way outside, he was surprised to see the entire kingdom had come to see him off. Golgar, Zulp, and Olaf were waiting on him beside Locmire and the others. Zulp and Olaf look like different Dainties in their new armor, Oggy thought. Oggy said his goodbyes to everyone and issued some final orders to Golgar before he left. Zulp and Olaf became very emotional as Oggy slowly faded into the dark passage that led to the surface.

The Saviors, led by Lot, made their way through the small passageway that would lead them back to the surface. When they arrived at the shaft everyone began to wonder how they were going to make it to the surface. Lot began digging through his equipment bag.

"How da we plan on gettin out of dis place?" Red asked.

"Found it," Lot said as he pulled a grappling hook out of his bag.

"Ya mean ta tell me we gotta climb a rope up outta here?" Red asked again.

"Do you have a better idea?" Lot asked.

"Why do ye Dainties not have a ladder here?" asked Red.

"Well, we never had any plans on leaving, and we have not had any visitors for a very long time," Oggy hesitated for a moment. "Other than a thief a few years back."

Lot guiltily refocused his attention on readying his grappling hook.

"Arrr! Me bets ye wishes ye had a ladder up right bout now," Red said.

"Stand back," Lot said as he unraveled the grappling hook.

He carefully wrapped the rope around his elbow and hand, grasped the hook in his left hand, and threw it up through the tunnel. The hook stuck on a group of rocks on the surface. Lot tugged on the rope and said, "Good enough," as he began to shimmy his way up to the surface.

Oggy was the last one to climb out of the shaft. The sunlight was not fully visible from within the shaft, but there was more light shining down on him than he had ever seen. He squinted his eyes together to keep out the blinding sun. When Oggy made it to end of the shaft, a large green hand grasped his and pulled him to the surface. Oggy looked up at the sun and immediately became blinded. He stumbled and fell backwards to the ground, shielding his eyes with his hands. I have been blinded, he thought. I had heard stories of people going blind from looking at the sun. How stupid could I be? Urganox stood in front of the sun, blocking it from Oggy's eyes. To his amazement, he could still see.

"It will take some time for your eyes to adjust to the sun. Try not to look directly at it," Locmire said.

"I never would imagine it could be so bright," Oggy said as he rubbed his eyes. "You can move out of the way, Urganox. I think I will be fine."

Urganox moved out from between Oggy and the sun. As soon as he moved, Oggy lost his sight again and the Brazurkin quickly acted as a shade tree once more.

"I just cannot do it. It is too bright," Oggy said regretfully.

"Try these," Locmire said as he handed Oggy a spare set of the black lenses that covered his eyes.

Oggy put on the lenses and nodded to Urganox. He moved out of the way once more.

Even with the lenses on, the sun still burnt Oggy's eyes, but it was much more bearable. He stood and looked over the lands. The surface was beautiful. Everything seemed so alive. The sun was sparkling off of Lake Ormavon, the trees were swaying in the wind, and a large flock of birds was flying through the air. Oggy was amazed. The cool breeze rushed against his body and blew his beard around the back of his neck. He stood with his arms outstretched allowing the wind to fully engulf him. He had never in his life felt so alive.

"Ah, 'tis beautiful," Oggy said.

"That it is," Locmire replied.

# Chapter 47

# Memories

Thaddeus Graystone stood by a small brook in the forest near Dysut's cabin. He was furious with his companions. His emotional state was very frail. So much had happened to him in a short period of time. The love of his life was dead, he was on a quest that he knew very little about, his kingdom was in disarray, and his new companions were on the verge of killing one another. He knelt and took a large gulp of the cold water from the babbling brook, hoping this would help to calm his soul. The water refreshed him. Thaddeus plopped down and fell onto his back, taking notice of the baby blue sky. The sky is beautiful this morning. I wish Emilia were here to gaze upon it with me.

As he lay looking at the light blue sky, a bleak fear overcame him. He sensed that Lot was, once again, in danger. Little did he know that at this exact moment, Lot was on the run from the entire army of Pizenchaffe. It is strange to finally know that these images and feelings, which have haunted me my entire life, have been that of my brother. I hope he is well. I have much I wish to say to him, he thought. Thaddeus, for the life of him, could not give credence to the idea that his father would not have ever told him of his brother. He wondered what other things his father had kept hidden from him.

Thaddeus pulled a picture from his knapsack. It was the picture of Emilia that he had taken from the castle before he left on his journey with Locmire. He stared at it for several minutes and a tear ran down his cheek, then another, and another. He sobbed as he held the picture of his betrothed to his chest. After several moments of grieving, Thaddeus put the picture away and sat back up. He felt much better now that he had a moment alone to grieve his loss.

His mind drifted back to his current circumstance. He thought, I do not know what to do. How am I supposed to destroy Hasbarie when I cannot manage to unify my own companions? I wish father was still alive. He would know what to do. With that thought, Thaddeus fell onto his back once more and slipped away into a long forgotten memory of his childhood.

It was his tenth birthday and young Prince Thaddeus sat patiently at the foot of his father's throne, awaiting his arrival. The King was on his way to the throne room to hold court. Today, the King was to settle a disagreement between a poor farmer and one of the royal guards. There were many more matters to be dealt with, but the King only had a limited amount of time today.

After the proceedings, the King had promised young Thaddeus that he would take him into the city to celebrate his birthday. Thaddeus was never content on spending his birthday in the castle. He spent every day of his life there and did not wish to stay, confined to its stone walls, on his special day. Besides, the city was a very interesting place for a boy of his age. He loved to see the merchants' wares, often finding items that would never be allowed in the castle. The local merchants looked forward to the Prince's birthday almost as much as he did. Last year, he found a very rare and costly set of throwing knives that was later stripped from him after every door in the castle had to be replaced.

The King finally arrived at his throne and took his seat. He looked down at his young son and said, "I want you to pay very close attention. Someday it will be your job to decide these matters. It will be best if you have some experience dealing with these mundane, but important, tasks."

"I will never have to do these things," Thaddeus replied.

"And what makes you think that?" asked the King.

"Because you will never die," said Thaddeus.

The King smiled heartily at his son.

"Well it is true," Thaddeus said as he took to his feet. "I hear the stories about you. Everyone says that you cannot be killed. They say you are invincible."

"Thaddeus, everyone dies eventually. I have been very lucky in battle. Warriors far greater than me have met their fate at a much younger age," he said with a smile. "But I do not plan on dying anytime soon."

"One day, the people of our kingdom will say the same about me," replied the Prince.

"I am sure they will, my son. I am sure they will," said the King as he patted Thaddeus on the head.

A middle aged man opened the doors to the throne room and said, "My King, are you ready?"

"Yes. Send them in," he replied.

The King sat upright on his throne and motioned for his son to stand beside him. An old farmer hobbled into the throne room. Following closely behind him was a young guard with a smirk on his face. Both men stood in front of the throne with their hands behind their backs. The man who announced their arrival stood between them.

"My King, today you are to settle an argument between Domur, a local farmer, and Perry, one of your royal guards," the mediator said as he unrolled a length of parchment. "Domur claims that Perry slaughtered one of his prized cows and urinated on his lettuce patch," a grin grew on Perry's face. "When Domur approached Perry and told him to leave his property, the guard responded with physical violence, severely injuring Domur and his wife."

"Is this correct, Domur?" King Graystone asked.

"Yes, my King," Domur replied as his face turned red.

"Perry claims that the farmer assaulted him first, and he used only the force necessary to restrain the farmer. He claims he has no idea how the cow died, but he does admit to urinating on Domur's lettuce patch after Domur struck him once again."

"Is this information accurate, Perry?"

"Yes, my King," Perry answered cockily.

The King left his throne and stood in front of the men. He looked at both men inquisitively.

"Why did Domur attack you?" the King asked.

"I have no idea, my King," Perry replied.

"Domur," said the King. "Why did Perry perform such vile acts toward you?"

"He was drunk, my King. That is the only reason that I can think of," replied Domur.

"When did these events take place?" the King asked as he looked toward the mediator.

"Yesterday, my King," replied the mediator.

He had heard enough. As soon as the men had walked into the throne room, he knew instantly who was guilty. Two days ago, the King had passed Domur on the outskirts of Ravendale and purchased a rather large quantity of produce from him. Although the farmer was old, he was quite able. He helped load every last crate of the vegetables into the carriage. Today he could barely stand. He had taken more than a few defensive strikes. He had been beaten. The King rounded on Perry and slapped him to the ground. Thaddeus gasped in shock.

"On your feet," the King demanded of Perry.

The guard rose to his feet with his head hung low.

"Perry, I find you guilty of these accusations. You are a royal guard to Galdarath. A guard who swore an oath to protect and serve the King, as well as the citizens. You dishonor not only the kingdom, but your King as well. For your act of stupidity I have decided to give you a promotion," the King said.

With a look of surprise, Perry asked, "A promotion?"

"Yes, a promotion. From this point forward you will no longer be a guard to Galdarath. I now bestow upon you the title of royal farmer. You will now begin your apprenticeship under Domur. If you give him any grief," the King paused for a long moment. "You will be put to death. Understood?"

"Yes, my King," Perry said shamefully.

"Do you agree to these terms, Domur?" the King asked.

"Yes, my King. You are most just," Domur said.

"Very well then. Perry, there is no need to pack your belongings. You will leave at once and begin your new career. Be gone with you," said the King.

The mediator outstretched his arm and escorted Perry and Domur out of the throne room.

Thaddeus sat back up and tossed a rock into the brook. Reflecting back on this memory, Thaddeus admired the perceptiveness of his father. As a child, it seemed that his father never missed even the slightest detail. He had sat in on many hearings, and his father always seemed to know who was right and who was wrong. His father was a hard man, but just. He always seemed to know the correct course of action. His father was his hero, and he doubted that he could ever become half the man that he was.

Once again he started to reminisce on the events of his tenth birthday. Not only did he witness his father hold his court for the first time, but he also witnessed the first assassination attempt made on his father's life. It took place in the marketplace later that day.

As they walked through the stone streets of Ravendale, the King could see why a young boy could be so fascinated with the city. It was an entirely different world from what Thaddeus knew at the castle. The marketplace was bustling with people buying and selling goods. Laborah was a good time to be in the market because this was the time of the year that the most abundant and unusual goods came through the city. Merchants were lined up and down along the streets selling a wide variety of goods: cured meats, fish, vegetables, potions, trinkets, toys, rare weaponry, garments, magically imbued items, animals, and sometimes even slaves.

As they browsed through the city, something finally caught young Thaddeus's eye. An old woman was selling some of the finest jewelry that he had ever laid eyes upon. A particularly unusual locket held Thaddeus's attention. It was cut of pure diamond and in the shape of a heart. A radiant red gem was secured in the center.

Thaddeus looked up to his father and said, "I have found my present. I want this locket to give to mother."

"It is very beautiful, my son, but I am sure your mother does not want you to use your birthday gift on her," the King replied.

"But her birthday is only a few months away. I still have to get her a gift and this is the gift I want. I do not need anything for myself, and it may not be here later," Thaddeus said.

"Indeed," the old woman said. "This locket will sell very fast. You are lucky it is still here. It is the only one of its kind. It is a diamond with breath of a dragon at its core."

The King raised his eyebrows at the old woman. She is very good at what she does.

"Can I have it father?" the anxious Prince asked.

The King gave his son a smile. He couldn't help but to admire his young son's selflessness. "If this is what you really want," he pulled out his coin purse and asked the old woman, "How much?"

"One hundred gold pieces," she replied.

The King was taken aback by the steep price. It is an unusual piece, he thought. He pulled out the gold and started to hand it to the woman when the voice of a child screamed, "Look out!"

The King quickly turned to see a blade coming at his face. He moved his head to the side dodging the strike. He grabbed his attacker's arm and pulled the assassin into him, at the same time thrusting his head forward. His head smashed into the assassins head and sent him slumping to the ground. The man tried to pull another sword from his side as he was making his way to his feet, but it was too late. A dragon bone long sword impaled the man in the area between his neck and shoulder. The man fell back to his knees, and the King stepped forward, inserting his blade even deeper into the man's chest. The assassin looked up at the King and began to laugh.

"You have escaped death today. The next time, you will not be so lucky. Once the Shadows accept a target, we will succeed," said the man as blood started pouring from his mouth.

"I welcome the Shadows. Your entire brotherhood will meet the same fate as you," the King said as he turned his blade several times in the man's body.

The assassin finally went limp. The King removed his sword, and the hired hit man fell on his stomach on the stone street.

"Are you all right?" the King asked.

"Yes, father," Thaddeus replied.

King Graystone turned to the small child who had alerted him of the attacker. Thaddeus noticed that his father looked shocked when he saw the young boy. The King walked over to the small child and spoke to him. He pulled some coin from his purse, gave the young boy a handful of gold, and sent him on his way. After the royal guards came to the scene of the attack, King Graystone purchased the locket and escorted his son back to the safety of the castle.

This was the last birthday that Thaddeus ever spent with his father. The order of assassins known as the Shadows had honored their end of the contract. On the night of his mother's birthday, four months later, the Shadows snuck into the castle and killed Thaddeus's father and mother. Thaddeus became rightful heir to the throne, but he was too young to take the seat just yet. Sebastian Buxton acted as King until Thaddeus become of age.

Once Thaddeus became King, his first order was to eliminate the Shadow organization. With Sebastian by his side, Thaddeus tore through Calencia vindictively destroying anyone affiliated with the Shadows. Within a year, Thaddeus had killed every last known member of the Shadows.

Thaddeus stood up and stared at the sky. He touched his hand to the hilt of one of his dragon bone swords. It felt good knowing that these swords were his fathers.

He then thought of his mother. The only real physical object that he owned of hers had been stolen a few years back. Lot had taken the locket in the middle of the night, and it was never seen again. As Thaddeus thought about Lot stealing the locket, his blood began to boil, but then something came to him that caught him off guard. It was him. The boy in the market, it was Lot. He could not believe it. Lot saved their father in the market on the day of his tenth birthday. Lot had saved the life of his own father and did not even know it. He also made it possible for Thaddeus to get the locket. If father had died that day, the locket would have been the most distant thing in my mind. And how ironic is it that Lot came back years later and stole it from me. The thought of Lot never knowing his true parents or lineage began to weigh on Thaddeus's heart. He decided that he would tell his brother this story when they reunited, and he hoped that Lot would be glad to know that he had met his true father, if only for a moment.

Thaddeus jumped slightly when he heard River call out, "Thaddeus."

"Yes?" he answered.

"I hate to bother you, but everyone is ready to go. Will you be much longer?" she asked.

"I will be there in a moment," Thaddeus said as he waved her off.

He turned and knelt beside the brook, splashing the cool water onto his face once more. He cupped his hands together and took several large drinks. Once back on his feet, he thought of the journey ahead. Thaddeus guessed that if all went well with Locmire and Lot, he would have at least two, probably three, more days until it was time to meet back up. He hoped that the rest of their travels would be a little easier and that they would not have to waste valuable time, as they had for the past six hours.

Thaddeus knew that he was being hopeful. He knew that there would be more perils before them. It seemed that Hasbarie's forces were growing stronger every day, and Thaddeus did not think that the Dark Wizard would give up on destroying them. He could not wait until the moment that he faced Hasbarie face to face on the field of battle.

His mind was constantly reverting back to Lot, hoping that he would make it back to their upcoming rendezvous. There was much he wanted to say to his brother, and he hoped that he would have the chance.

He had to put that out of his mind for the moment. His companions were depending on him to lead them to Dead Marsh. Rasmere and Azonis would both be capable enough to lead the group to Dead Marsh on their own, but Thaddeus suspected they would kill one another before they ever made it there. He knew that he had to stay focused. He was certain that more trials and troubles lay before them, but Thaddeus could have never foreseen from where these troubles would originate.

Thaddeus walked back to the cabin to find his companions all standing next to one another. He was surprised to discover that his party did not seem to be broken, but rather united. This lifted the King's spirits considerably.

"Are we ready?" asked the King.

"Yes," Azonis replied.

Rasmere nodded his head.

"Ready if you are," Caleb replied.

"Yes," said River.

"Very well, let us take leave from here. We still have a long journey ahead of us. It will be especially long since we have no mounts to ride upon," Thaddeus said.

"Speak for yourself," River said as Caleb transformed into the form of the lion and she climbed upon his back.

This brought a smile to the King's face.

"I think we should take turns," Azonis said with a hint of laughter in his voice.

"I do not think any of us have the nerve to try and mount him," said Rasmere.

Caleb let out a blood curdling roar.

"Point taken," Thaddeus said.

The warriors set off deeper into the forest hoping to safely make it to their rendezvous point with Locmire and the others.

# Chapter 48

# Mother

Hasbarie stood from his throne and descended the grotesque steps, which were constructed of bodies. He navigated his way through a tiny corridor within the Onock. The inside of the Onock looked nothing like the exterior. The interior was made entirely of body parts and what seemed to be living flesh. He pushed back a large flap of bloody skin that served as a curtain and entered a spacious oval room. The room was dark and the air was thick with the smell of death. The room was flooded with coagulated blood that stood knee high; the ceiling resembled a beating heart. He had entered the chamber of the Mother.

The Mother was the entity responsible for Hasbarie's powers and his return from the afterlife. The Onock was her home, in this world, and in her own. She was the being that reanimated the bodies of the fallen, as well as conjuring the other various monstrosities that were at Hasbarie's disposal.

Mother was not a woman in the physical sense. Her form was not that of a woman's, nor that of any other creature in Calencia for that matter. Mother was a bulbous glob of oozing meat. Two large, asymmetrical eyes lay above an abnormally wide, toothy mouth. Mother had no nose, ears, or hair. She was grotesque to say the least. She had a face that only a mother could love.

Mother had brought Hasbarie back from the dead, twice. The first was when he died during his mortal life, and another time when he faced Ryker during the Great War. It caused her great grief when Ryker destroyed the crystal that sat in Hasbarie's chest. The crystal housed almost the entirety of her collective power, and it had taken her 500 years to partially reclaim it. She had now become strong enough to bring the Onock back to Calencia and with the help of the Dark Priests, strong enough to resurrect Hasbarie once more.

Now that her lost son, Hasbarie, was home and back in her arms, she steadily had been regaining the remainder of her power. She was now able to start summoning more forces for Hasbarie's army, provide personal protection for the Dark Priests and possess weak minded individuals to act as Summoners. She even managed to muster up enough energy to destroy Morgorath. She made Fodder Valley, as the mystical creatures of Calencia referred to it, impenetrable from Locmire and the new Saviors. Her plan to take over Calencia was in full swing and, with Hasbarie by her side, she felt confident that they would undoubtedly succeed with their diabolical mission.

Hasbarie fell to his knees in the blood flooded floor. He bowed his head and said, "Mother, it pains me to tell you this, but Thaddeus Graystone and his band of miscreants have once again prevailed against the forces we dispatched to seal their fates."

"Do not fret, my son. I feel that I am almost strong enough to summon more than enough creatures to deal with the Human King, the Wizard, and all of Calencia." Mother said.

When Mother spoke, her words were partially hidden by the sound of gurgling fluid.

"Mother, I am worried about Locmire and this new group of heroes. Their power is far greater than their ancestors before them," Hasbarie said.

"My son, I have told you before, there is no need to bow before me. You are my son and King of the Onock. I will not have you bow," Mother said, as a long fleshy tentacle wiggled down from the top of the room, took Hasbarie by the arm, and brought him to his feet.

"I am sorry, Mother," Hasbarie said solemnly.

"There is no need to be sorry. It is good that you respect your mother, but you have already proven your love to me," Mother said as the bloody tentacle stroked Hasbarie's head.

He bent his head to his shoulder and nuzzled the tentacle against his cheek.

"Now. . . did the four priests go into hiding as I asked?

"Yes, Mother. They are well hidden, and I have provided them with the protectors, just as you directed," Hasbarie replied.

"Excellent," Mother gurgled. "It is of the utmost importance that they are not discovered until I have regained all of my power. If the Wizard finds them before that time, I fear the worst."

"They are well hidden and well protected. Do not fear, they will not be discovered until the time is right," Hasbarie said as he took the tentacle in his hand. "Thaddeus and his group are headed toward Dead Marsh and Locmire is just now seeking the aid of the Daintish King. I believe we shall have two, maybe three, more days to prepare the attack on the Dead Marsh."

"Good," said Mother. "We need all the time we can get. If we can destroy Jeszekia Venumroot before the Wizard arrives at Dead Marsh, the prophecy will be broken and all hope for Calencia will be lost."

"We will succeed, Mother. I also have high hopes that King Graystone may not even survive the trip to Dead Marsh," Hasbarie said with a smile on his face.

"Why so?" Mother asked.

"It seems that the good king has made some enemies in his short tenure as King. Those same enemies are at this very moment in search of him to exact revenge," Hasbarie said with a sound of diabolical laughter in his voice.

"That would prove to be a very fortunate turn of events. Let us hope that they find success in their task," said Mother.

"Locmire will still have several obstacles in his path to reclaim the throne for the drunken Dainty, and I still have a few surprises in store for Thaddeus. If all goes as planned, you will be powerful enough to launch a full scale assault on Dead Marsh before the others arrive," said Hasbarie.

"We . . . We will be powerful enough to declare war on Dead Marsh, my son," Mother said lovingly.

"You are the one who has the power, Mother. Not I. I would be part of the white sands of Fogarth if not for your loving intervention," Hasbarie said in an unworthy tone.

"My dear child, if not for you, I would have never had an entrance into this world. Because of you, and only you, I am here today. You allowed me to come into this pathetic world and draw the power to sustain my life. All that is mine, is yours as well," Mother said as two more tentacles wrapped around Hasbarie and pulled him to her. "I love you, son. All things I do in your name."

Hasbarie looked at Mother and an expression of peace grew on his face. "And I love you, Mother," he said as he leaned in and gave his mother a passionate kiss.

# Chapter 49

# Revenge

Danard's Tavern was positioned alongside the main road on the outskirts of Galdarath. The tavern was owned by a rather shady individual named Danard Cotrill. Danard was a tall man and very thick. His gray hair had started to recede, which gave everyone a good look at the wide scar that ran from the crown of his head to the top of his brow. Danard was an accomplished swordsman, winning many of Calencia's various tournaments. He was a hard man; he had to be to run the tavern in an orderly fashion.

For years, the Kingdom of Galdarath had tried to find a reason to shut down Danard Cotrill's pub and eatery, but never was there any evidence found that would give the kingdom sufficient rights to do so. The tavern was located within the borders of the Free Lands and Galdarath had no power there. Many mercenaries, head hunters, thieves, and assassins frequented the tavern to take contracts and finish underhanded deals. Danard's Tavern was a hub for illegal activity and so long as Danard could keep the illusion that the tavern was a reputable place of business, gold would always fill his pockets.

It was the middle of the night, and all of Danard's usual patrons were at the tavern. It was loud, very loud. The more the patrons drank, the more rambunctious they became. Danard scanned the crowd looking for any signs of trouble. For some unknown reason, he had a strong notion that it was brewing in his little tavern. Most of the patrons were usually well behaved, but Danard noticed two unfamiliar faces sitting in the back of his establishment. He hoped they did not intend to cause problems. He did not feel like cracking anyone's skull tonight.

Zathillius Kraven, a Raptilian outcast from Dead Marsh, and Trevor Metzger, a Human who was orphaned as a child, patiently sat at a table in the furthest most corner of the tavern.

Zathillius was dressed in brown leather armor. Four daggers were strapped across the front of his chest. A bow and quiver of arrows were slung across his back. A single edged war axe was hanging from his side. The Raptilian was over seven feet tall and covered in brown, green, and purple scales, with a bright blue face. His barbed tail lay coiled on the floor behind him. Several purple, tentacle- like locks of scaly hair were pulled behind his head in a ponytail. His face was strikingly similar to that of a lizard; two slits for a nose, holes for ears, a pair of yellow eyes, thin lips, and no noticeable chin.

Zathillius Kraven was relatively unknown throughout most of Calencia. The many unlucky individuals who had the displeasure of meeting Zathillius, minus his constituents, never lived to tell the tale. Zathillius was an assassin, and not just any assassin, but one of the most, quite possibly the most, deadly assassin to ever walk Calencia. Although he was very skilled with almost every type of combat weapon, Zathillius favored poisons, and being Raptilian, his concoctions were extremely lethal. Zathillius and his travel companion, Trevor, were the last remaining members of the Shadows, and they had a debt to settle with Thaddeus Graystone.

Trevor Metzger was a pale faced man in his mid-twenties. He had short black hair with a matching handlebar moustache and soul patch goatee. He had the look of a lord about him. Trevor was well groomed and boyishly handsome, but his looks were very deceiving. He was a cold-hearted killer. His green hooded tunic and brown breeches hid the self-inflicted scars that he used to keep a count of his kills. He had currently run out of room on his arms and legs and had begun counting his victims across his chest. Two falcata swords, his weapons of choice, hung from his hips. A dagger was secured to each of his brown leather boots. His cane, which was purely for show, concealed a thin blade that had taken the life of many unsuspecting targets.

The assassins had been sitting idle in Danard's Tavern for over an hour. Their tempers had become short; they hated to be kept waiting. They were impatiently awaiting the arrival of an informant who had valuable information on the whereabouts of Thaddeus Graystone. It had seemed that King Graystone had unexpectedly departed from Galdarath, and they had not the slightest idea as to his whereabouts.

The door of the tavern slung open, and the man they had been expecting had finally arrived. Danard jumped across the bar and met the man at the door.

"Look," Danard said as he came nose to nose with the man, "How many times do I have to tell you people that nothing is going on in here!"

"I have not come to interfere with your business," the man paused as he looked around. "I am actually here on business of my own."

Danard stared him in the eyes and said, "Very well then. Will you be having a drink?"

"Yes. Send three rounds of your finest drink to the back table," the man said as he pointed toward the assassins.

Danard nodded and climbed back over the bar to prepare the drinks. The man cautiously walked to the back table and took an empty seat.

"Where iz the King?" Zathillius asked.

"You are late. I expected your arrival over two days ago," the man replied.

"Ze lass job took us longer zan weez expected," Zathillius responded.

"Well, your last job has cost me dearly," the man said.

"Weez been waiting on you for quite zum time. Weez do not like to be kept waiting," Zathillius hissed.

Trevor stepped in and said, "Pardon us for our untimely arrival. Has our tardiness allowed Thaddeus to escape our grasp forever?"

"No, it has not. Things will just be harder for you now. He is traveling in the company of some very skilled warriors, but the initial contract I offered you still stands," the man replied.

Danard came over and set the drinks down on the table and gave the man a suspicious look.

"Zat iz all. Be gone wizz you!" Zathillius hissed.

Danard quickly turned and walked away.

"Drink up," the man said.

"Where haz ze King gone to?" Zathillius asked.

"To the best of my knowledge, he recently visited Lasticall. Once he left there, it has been reported that he traveled west. I am certain he is heading to Dead Marsh," the man said as he tossed back the shot of Danard's finest.

Trevor leaned forward and asked, "And why would he be going there?"

"It has to do with the Dark Wizard, Hasbarie. All I know is that Thaddeus is traveling with a Wizard, two outsiders, Lot Caskill, the Sestian of Lasticall and his Sword," the man said as he nervously looked over his shoulder.

"Zen ze deal still stands?" Zathillius asked.

The man hesitated momentarily, and then said, "Yes, the deal still stands."

Trevor Metzger ran his finger over the rim of his shot glass and swished the drink back and forth. He took a small sip and said, "Disgusting," as he placed the drink down. "Just to refresh our memory . . . what were the details of our agreement?"

"You know the details of our arrangement!" the man said angrily. "How many times must we go through this?"

Zathillius Kraven placed a hand on his sword and said, "Az many timez az weez needz."

The man leaned forward and said, "Do you think placing your hand on your steel intimidates me? I have twenty men outside waiting for my word. Not to mention that I am quite confident that I could easily dispose of you and your friend by myself."

"Let not our tempers flare. Assassinating a king is a very risky job. All we want is reassurance of our arrangement," Trevor said calmly.

Zathillius removed his hand from his sword and leaned back in his chair. This seemed to calm the man, as he relaxed himself.

"Fine," the man said. "For you fulfilling your end of the bargain, I will reward you both with ten thousand gold pieces. Also, I will grant you amnesty for your crimes, once I become King of Galdarath. I will also grant you land and titles within the kingdom."

"Very well," Trevor said, as he began to stand up. "That was not so difficult, was it?"

"There is only one minor problem. A problem that I am prepared to compensate you handsomely for if you are able to correct it," said the man with a hint of anger in his voice.

"What iz zis problem?" Zathillius asked.

"It seems that Thaddeus Graystone was not the last heir to the throne. It seems that he has a long lost brother, Lot Caskill, who is presently traveling in his company, or at least he was the last time I saw them. With Lot alive, I have no claim to the throne. I am prepared to double the amount of gold promised if you are able to deal with this minor inconvenience," said the man.

Zathillius and Trevor exchanged nods.

"Thiz soundz good. We accept your termz," hissed the Raptilian.

"Well, that settles it then," said the man with a sigh of relief.

"You are very ambitious, sir. Once this is all said and done, remind us to never call you a friend," Trevor chuckled.

Rage grew on the man's face. "You have the nerve to speak of such things to me?" he slammed his fist down the table. Everyone in the tavern looked at them for a moment and then turned back to minding their own business. "You two assassinated the former King for me and allowed Thaddeus to lead an assault on your entire brotherhood because you felt that you were both more suited to run the Shadows. The two of you are no better than I am. I will have the blood of three men on my conscious. You two have the blood of the entire Shadow brotherhood on yours."

"Weez never called ze Shadowz family. You, on ze other hand, called ze kingz yourz. You sworez to protectz zem. You gained zeir trust and look how you repayz zem," hissed Zathillius as he stood to his feet. "You were correct. Weez are no better zan you."

The man was now furious. His face turned the color of blood.

"Well," Trevor said, extending his hand to the man, "It seems that our business here is done. We will be contacting you shortly."

The man stood up, disregarding Trevor's outstretched hand and headed for the exit of the tavern. When the man made it to the door, Trevor called out to him.

"Sebastian," Sebastian Buxton slowly turned back around. "Just as you are a man of your word, so are we. We will accomplish this task for you. For your sake, I hope you uphold your end of the bargain."

Sebastian Buxton nodded his head and left Danard's Tavern as quickly as he entered.

"Let's get to it," Trevor said, as he gathered his things.

"Zis should be razur eazy. I say weez headz out for Dead Marsh," Zathillius said as he put his chair neatly back under the table.

"Sounds good," Trevor said.

As Zathillius and Trevor were leaving Danard's Tavern, a drunken patron muttered to his friends, "I thought I smelled lizard. Thank the gods he is leaving. I hate lizards."

The drunken man's friends began to laugh as the two assassins passed by them. When Zathillius was at the door, he pulled a small needle-like object from his side. He nonchalantly flicked the needle behind him as he closed the door. The needle stuck in the drunken man's neck. Immediately the veins in the man's neck and face turned black, and he grasped his throat. Within seconds the man lay lifeless on the floor, his face as black as petrom. Zathillius and Trevor mounted their horses and headed south toward Dead Marsh in search of Thaddeus Graystone and Lot Caskill.

End of Book One

# About the Author

Brian Hutchinson was born in a small, country town in West Virginia. Currently, he still resides in the Mountain State with his wife and two children.

Brian has always been a fan of the fantasy genre. He enjoys fantasy novels, movies, and video games. In his spare time, Brian takes pleasure in bonding with his family, hunting, fishing, playing paintball, watching college sports, and playing video games.

In 2009, Brian was unexpectedly laid off from his job as an equipment operator in the coal industry. He went back to college and received an Associate's Degree as a Physical Therapist Assistant. With extra time on his hands, Brian took on the challenge of writing a book, a project he had always wanted to attempt.

 Sestian is the Engenish term for ruler, or king

 The **Battle of Jericho** is a battle in the biblical book of Joshua. Joshua 6:1-27

 The Dainties worship Kazshriek-Ez-Val, who is actually Mt. Pizenchaffe itself.

 Calencia's warmest season

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