The History of

Imperial Kulan,

the Bronze Republic,

And Del’Goth

By Ian “Marcus Ironfist” Shirm

5-2007 Stories Start Date

8-10-2007 Stories continue date

10-15-2007 Edited by Chrisy Demaroney

10-31-2007 Edited by Ian Shirm

11-5-2007 Corrections by Lynn Thomas

11-6-2007 Edited by Ian Shirm

(Old chapters 1-2-3)

Chapter One

“Coming Home”

April (Spring), of the Year of the Ram 3255

            Light rain fell on two brothers as they slowly made their way down a mucky dirt path. They rode upon a large wagon pulled by two of their fathers Horses.

            "Damn rain,” Aiken said.

            Dekari, Aiken’s twin, looked to the sky, then said, "Looks as if it might pour."

            "Hop in the back, little brother. Our cargo gets wet and you can do the explaining to the old man."

            Dekari rolled his eyes, glanced in the back at a canvas sheet, then rose from his seat. With a hand on the side of the wagon, he clambered into the back. As Dekari pulled the canvas over the bags of grain, buckets of nails, piles of rope, and two large chests with various supplies, he let out a sigh.
            Though Dekari was indeed Aiken’s younger brother, the age difference of mere hours mattered to him in only one aspect. He had to listen to his much smaller elder brother goad him. Dekari had grown accustomed to it over their long twentytwo years, though he found it taxing at times.

            Dekari appraised the neatly tucked canvas and made his way back towards the seat beside Aiken. As he extended a foot over the seat, he made the mistake of letting Aiken see him remove his hand from the side railing of the wagon.

            With a sly grin, Aiken snapped the reins, and the two horses jolted forward, taking the large, clumsy wagon with them. Dekari grabbed for something, anything, to regain his balance. Unfortunately for Aiken, Dekari grabbed him. Dekari tripped with the foot that was still in the back, and both tumbled out of the wagon. Dekari crashed, shoulder first onto the ground, with an air-born Aiken landing on him.
            "Aiken! You Idiot!" Dekari shouted.

            “Oops,” Aiken said.

            Dekari, whose hand was still clenched on his brother’s arm, threw him off his side, with Aiken landing several feet away.

            "You moron!" Dekari said with a sigh of disbelief as he watched the horses, wagon in tow, race off.

            A loud crack of thunder splintered the air and a moment later the sky opened up and it began to downpour.

            "Well," Aiken said with a sheepish smile. "At least the canvas is on. Whereever the wagon ends up, at least the cargo will be dry."

            Dekari appraised the surrounding countryside. The two brothers were on grassy fields, sloping slightly with thick forest on the sides a few acres off.

            "Let’s get walking. We’ve got a couple miles ‘til we get home," Dekari said.

            "I guess when it rains it pours, eh?" Aiken said.

            "I'll let you do the explaining to Dad when we get home," Dekari said.

            “Hmm… I'll tell him the truth. I made the mistake of letting you hold the reigns. You were hauling ass, being careless, almost hit a stump, tried to correct, damn near pitched over the wagon and we fell out!" said Aiken.

            "You know he won’t believe that," Dekari said

            “You’re right. I'll think up something better. Not like we don’t have time," Aiken said.

The History of Bruce

            Bruce had been steering his two sons in 2 directions as he raised them and saw where their skills lay. Bruce had been preparing Dekari for the Holy Order of the Paladin and Aiken for the Clergy. Lucila, had tried to steer Aiken in the direction of the clergy, with little to no success. A stubborn Aiken had disregarded his parents attempts for him to lead a religious life and worship Paial and had ended up a member of the mercenaries guild in Greendale from the age of 19 to 21.

            Dekari and Aiken were the only two children of Bruce, Bruce was fathered by Marcus Ironfist and in turn, Marcus was the son of Draxis, The God of Blacksmithing and the Lord of Souls who ruled Purgatory.

            Draxis was one of the three reigning Gods: Paial lord of all that is good, Draxis keeper of Purgatory and the Lord of Souls. They prayed to Xrakisis as well, the Lord of the 7 levels in Hell.  Two white moons were Heaven, two red moons were Purgatory, and the Sun was hell.

            Marcus Ironfist, King of Del’goth, Warlord from the Bear Clan, had met Rachael some 300 years ago. Some time after they were wed Marcus had two sons, Duncan and Bruce. Duncan, now 331 years old and Bruce, now 335 years old. Later on Marcus had another son, Talon, now 275 years old by a Crimson elf named Aquillia Numidica.

            In the year 3205 Marcus Ironfist, who had been the warlord ruling the Bear Clan, united the western Barbarians under the banner of Del’Goth. The Bear clan had proven itself militarily in many wars. Wars against plainsmen, minotaur, blood elves and other clans in Del’goth. Marcus had allied all of the clans into the Nation of Del‘goth, slowly annexing one after another with the threat of force and slavery. Previously Del’goth had been a loose confederation of clans who waged war upon each other. Under Marcus the nation of Del’goth was formed. To strengthen his hold on the clans Marcus made Talon the King of Eagle clan and after the war with D’hellzaben made Duncan King of Rockport.

            From the time of birth to his seventeenth birthday, Bruce had lived with Marcus and Domitia. Growing restless and wishing to see the world, he packed his belongings and stole two horses from the Bear clan’s paddock. Bruce loaded food, cloths and supplies on one and rode the other.

            Bruce’s travels took him south into Kulan, where he spent several years, then east to the Bronze Republic. In the Bronze Republic, a wealthy, powerful nation, Bruce became a squire to his cousin, Hadrian. Marcus’s brother, Dominus Severus, had three sons, Hadrian, a Paladin, Lucius, a Politician, and Alaric, the head of the republics heavy infantry or the Royal Guard.

            Hadrian Severus trained Bruce in the paths of the knighthood. Several years after faithful service to the Republic, with training by Hadrian and a cleric of Paial, Bruce became a Paladin, the Holy Order of Knights. Bruce served the crown of the Republic for over 200 years, where he watched as other Paladins lived and died, not having the lineage that allowed Bruce such long life.

            Bruce met Lucila Rufina around thirty years ago, and had married this 25 year old maiden of Del‘gothian heritage and lineage. Lucila bore two sons, Dekari and Aiken. Lucila was a cleric of Paial and she worked in Greendale at a temple to Paial. Bruce spent most of his time working on the Ranch where his two twin sons and Lucila lived.

            Bruce’s stories of battles of old and of the world outside Greendale had instilled in his two sons, Aiken more than Dekari, a wish to see the world beyond Greendale and the surrounding farming communities.

            Dekari stood well over six feet with broad shoulders, short black hair and a short, thick, black beard. He wore a green tunic with brown pants. Aiken, Dekaris much shorter twin brother had short blond hair, light green eyes and a clean shaven face. Somehow the two looked nothing alike, though they were twins.

            Dekari had grown to up to be much like his father, serious, pious, strong both physically and mentally. Dekari usually thought of the philosophy that every action has a reaction and weighed his options before acting, others sometimes thinking him slow.

            Aiken was the opposite of Dekari, often acting impulsively and making rash judgments and decisions. While Dekari was calm and collected, Aiken was hot headed and hot tempered. Aiken often acted without thinking of what the consequences of his actions would by, often getting himself in trouble. 

            The two brothers of barbarian blood had been raised on their family’s ranch for their twenty-two years and their father had made them work for what both would say had been too long. Bruce, had found a place to retire here in the nation of Kulan. Bruce's idea of a relaxed retirement had ended up in both brothers eyes being 'endless' work.

            Their mother had taught magic from the gods in their small hometown. She was a cleric of Paial, though she practiced religious rituals to the other gods as well. She was also of barbarian Del'goth blood and had met their father at a government function. At the time, Bruce had been a diplomat from the Bronze Republic who served as an intermediary between the Paladins and monks of the Republic and the Order of the Paladin that had started in the agricultural city of Mohawk.

            Bruce, retired and now 335 years old had lived through many wars, and retained the title of Knight and Paladin in the Bronze republic. He worked a large ranch a half days travel north of Greendale, a small city with a market and large relocated Barbarian population. He had chosen a quiet, run-down farm as a retirement home. Lucila, on the other hand had been continuing her studies in religious rituals and kept her position as a Cleric in the temple to Paial in Greendale.

            A mile later, an annoyed, completely soaked Dekari was wishing he was home with a roaring fire, dry clothes, and a huge meal in front of him. Instead he was wet, cold, hungry and tired.

            “At least the rain’s starting to let up,” Dekari said.

            The two had left their small hometown a few hours back and had been taking their time on the return trip to their family’s ranch. Now on foot their pace resembled a leisurely nature walk rather than a forced march.

            Aiken was about to speak when he heard riders approaching from up the path in the direction that they were headed. Dekari and Aiken kept on their way, rouges and rabble few and far between out here. Dusk was upon them and the path they had taken was fairly narrow, not well known save for the locals who knew of it.

            Eight riders on light, fast horses were riding hard coming towards them from the direction that the two brothers were going. The two brothers moved slightly to let them pass. The eight didn’t slow, and Aiken appraised them. They wore dark cloaks with hoods shrouding their faces, and they were well armed. As the last rider passed Aiken, his horse's hoof landed in a puddle showering mud across Aiken.

            "HEY!" Aiken yelled his mood from curious to furious in an instant. "Slow down! People are trying to walk here!"

            The rider stopped and faced Aiken menacingly.

            “What’s wrong? Loose your wagon?" the rider said.

            "Armond, let’s go," another one of the riders said.

            The rider prodded his horse with the heal of his boot and continued riding away with the others.

            An obviously concerned Dekari furrowed his brow as he watched the eight ride away.

            "Maybe our wagon went this way eh?" Aiken said.

            Dekari’s face with a two week old beard, said, "Let’s quicken our pace." As an afterthought, he said, "Hopefully we'll come across it."

(Where Chapter Two Had started-)

(Now Continuation of Chapter 1)

            A short while later, the two brothers reached the top of a hill and gazed down into the valley where their family ranch sat. They were greeted by a grizzly sight.

            Their wagon was on its side, a wheel had fallen off on the way down the hill, and the axle had buried itself deep in the muddy ground. The two horses had broken free of the leather harness and straps and were standing by the gate of the herd, trying to get in. The brothers looked down into the valley where the farm sat and saw unmoving bodies on the ground.

            "No!" Dekari uttered in horror before charging down the hill.

            Standing nearly seven feet tall, Dekari's strides were abnormally large. The closer Dekari got to the ranch, the more dread and fear set in, and torrents of adrenaline coursed through Dekari like a hurricane. Dekari had all but forgotten his brother, who was dragging behind. He charged past two large fencedin pastures, pigs in one and sheep in the other. Next, Dekari ran past a large chicken coup.

            His worst nightmare had become a sobering reality. Light from both sides of the barn’s double doors revealed the carnage before him. Lying dead in a pool of his own blood lay the body of one of his father’s farm hands.

            The young man, barely out of his teens, had been friend to both Aiken and Dekari for most of his life, now cut prematurely short. The young man had been studying to be a Cleric of Paial and he had lost his father and mother several years back. He had lost his faith and fell into desperation.

            Bruce had taken pity on the boy and put him to work there on the farm. The arrangement called for the boy to work hard, and he would get a place to live, meals, and a living wage.

            A flight arrow protruded from the back of the boy’s calf. Aiken surmised that the farmhand had tried in vain to run. Twenty feet of scuff marks in the dirt away from the house.

            The dead farmhand looked as if his killer had thrust his blade into his throat and pulled the blade violently out the side of his neck. Blood had sprayed across the barn and a large pool of blood had gathered around the corpse.

            "He must have taken the arrow over there and crawled to here." Aiken said startling his brother.

            "I think those eight riders played a part in this," Dekari said distantly, still in a state of shock.

            "His arms are covered with knife marks. It was a violent death. A death that he must have seen coming and known that there was nothing he could do to stop it." Aiken said.

            Usually intelligence, playfulness, fearlessness, and occasional rage were the four emotions that ruled Aiken. Dekari was almost surprised when he saw tears running down his brother’s face.

            "Where are Mom and Dad?" Aiken said, at last.

            Dekari didn’t answer. He shifted his gaze from his brother towards their large farmhouse. They walked, passing another farmhand whose spine had been severed by what appeared to them to have been a large blade. He lay face down, dead. A longsword lay bloodied and still clenched in the man’s fist. Aiken took the sword and glanced around while he cleaned the blood from the blade with a rag.

            As the brothers looked to the front of the house, they saw their father lying motionless. They walked slowly and painfully to Bruce who lay dead at the base of the steps of the front porch. Bruce's right hand lay severed still clenching his bloodied broadsword. Bruce's war-hammer lay near him, also covered in blood and gore.

            They stared at the man who had raised them their entire lives, the man who had taught them right from wrong, been there when needed, went without when times were hard, and died protecting his land, wife, and person.

            “God no!” Dekari said, grasping his brothers shoulder.

            “This cant be happening,” Aiken said as he sobbed, his hand covering his mouth as he dropped to his knees besides his father.

            Dekari took his fathers severed hand and reverently set it on his fathers chest and took off his cloak and rested it over his fathers body. The two brothers wept by their fathers side, then stood and wiped their tears.

            Dekari picked up the two weapons, Broadsword in right hand and War-hammer in his left. At the top of the stairs the front door lay scattered about in pieces. They slowly climbed the steps to the front door and porch.

            "The scatter pattern here looks as if it came from the inside going out," Aiken surmised.

            "Go around the back. I'll go through the front," Dekari instructed his brother.

(OLD Chapter 3)

            Dekari cautiously and quietly entered the three-story farmhouse, standing in a foyer with the front entrance behind him. Darkness had set in with night, and both red moons cast an eerie red light on the countryside. The full, white moon of Paial hung in the sky, banishing complete darkness.

            To Dekari’s left was a study and to his right was a laboratory. Lanterns hung in each of these two rooms. His mother spent a good deal of time here, practicing herbalism, alchemy, and enchantment, and praying to Paial the god of Justice, Oaths, Hospitality and the patron Deity of Paladins. 

            Through the hall before him Dekari heard people talking, though he could not hear well enough to eavesdrop. He stood perfectly still and listened. The hall led straight through the house to a kitchen on the right and two guest bedrooms on the left.

            The back door was broken through. Aiken slowly and quietly made his way through the back entrance to lock eyes with his brother. They quietly began closing the distance between them. Aiken was coming down the hall without making a sound. Dekari, weighing 270 pounds, was not as quiet, somewhat moving loudly and clumsily compared to his shorter leaner brother. A floor board creaked and immediately the talking stopped, as did Dekari, dead in his tracks.

            “Cellar,” Aiken said in a whisper.

            Aiken motioned.

            They went outside and  crept along each  side of the house. There were foot prints of what looked to be several men heading the way he was. Dekari exercised caution to make sure he walked as quietly as possible. Hundreds of hours of hunting in the woods left him better trained in moving silently than most of his stature.

            Once Dekari had  a good view of the cellar door, he became startled when Aiken crept up alongside him. They witnessed four men, with torches, leaving the basement in haste.

            “I don’t think they know we’re here. I guess we were quiet enough. Maybe they were talking and didn’t hear us.  We have the advantage of the cover of night,” Aiken said.

            Dekari only made a slight throat noise to get across the point that he had heard his brother.

            “Back in one second,” Aiken said while backing up. Both brothers had been crouching and hiding in a small patch of trees and brush.

            In a matter of moments, Aiken snuck back up alongside his brother. Aiken handed Dekari his round shield and medium crossbow with a quarrel of bolts.

            Dekari nodded, quietly setting down his father’s war-hammer and broadsword. He loaded the crossbow while Aiken knocked a war arrow upon his heavy recurve.

            “Pick a target. On three…” Aiken whispered. “1...2...3!”

            Bolt and arrow flew through the air hitting the same man, killing him. The man’s scream of pain and subsequent death shattered the silence of the night. This left the brothers with only three of the enemy.

            Dekari slipped his shield onto his left forearm and grabbed the broadsword with his right.

            Another arrow flew from Aiken’s bow, striking the biggest of the three in the thigh. Then another arrow from Aiken buried itself in the man’s other thigh. War arrows, the kind that Aiken was using, were intended to deal more damage, while flight arrows were made more for distance.

            The two unharmed invaders moved behind some trees. They threw spears to cover their escape. Round shield in his left, broadsword in his right, loaded crossbow on his hip, Dekari ducked down and rushed the wounded man. The surprise attack gave Dekari and his twin the advantage. The larger of the three remaining men fell quickly under Dekari’s Broadsword.

            Two spears splintered on Dekari’s shield before he reached the remaining two men. They drew shortswords in both hands and prepared to meet the challenge.

            Dekari stuck his sword’s tip in the dirt, now 10 feet from the enemy, he fired a bolt into one of the remaining men’s stomach.

            “I surrender,” the man said while coughing up blood and dropped to his knees.

            A look of disgust crossed the wounded man’s accomplice.

            “Never!” he yelled as he slid his shortsword into the mans back.

            He drew his longsword in his right hand and wielded his shortsword in his left. The red moons cast an eerie glow on the rouge’s band mail and steel weapons.

            “For VICTOR!” the man yelled.

            Aiken fired an arrow into the man’s right forearm, forcing him to drop his longsword. Another well-placed longbow shot from Aiken struck the man in the other arm in the bicep. The flight arrow glided through the man’s flesh, muscle, and sinew and pinned him to a tree, only the feathers on the end  of the arrow’s shaft showing.

            Before the man could pull free of the arrow, Dekari threw all his strength into a swing with his broadsword. The swing hit the rogue’s shortsword, sending it flying into the night. The next instant, Dekari bashed the rogue in the face with his bronze, round shield, robbing him of his consciousness.

            “Tie him to this tree,” Dekari said to his brother.

            “I call dibs on the band mail,” Aiken said before realizing it would never fit his huge brother.

            “Let’s see what they were up to in the cellar,” Dekari said.

            “Up to no good, I’d wager,” Aiken said. “Let’s keep half an eye on this fella. I don’t particularly want him sneaking up on me or running off.”

            “Let’s drag him into the cellar,” Dekari said.

            “I’d rather torture him. We’ve got a prisoner, might as well find out what he knows,” Aiken said.

            Dekari put out two of the rogues’ torches and took one for himself, still lit, and handed the other to Aiken.

            With a nod, Dekari went into the cellar. There he found the bodies of seven rogues.

            “So, this is where they put their dead,” Dekari said to himself in the torch lit basement. “Hey, Aiken.” Dekari yelled.

            “What?” Aiken yelled from the top of the stairs leading from the basement to outside.

            “There are seven more dead down here,” Dekari yelled back. “Also a bunch of oil lamps and a few bails of hay. I bet they were going to turn our house into an inferno and cremate their losses.”

            Dekari grabbed a coiled length of rope. He then ascended the basement stairs and stepped outside.

            “Dekari, why don’t you check the perimeter.  I’d guess those four have horses kickin round here somewhere.“

            “Alright. I’ll look around and see if I can find the horses of the seven dead and the four we just bested. I’m also going to go get the two horses we took with us to town. Then I will get the wagon down here,” Dekari said.

            “While you’re at it, you want to put the wheel back on the wagon? We have some graves to dig. Why don’t you unload the wagon and I’ll start digging,” Aiken suggested.

            “What about this guy?” Dekari nodded in the rouge’s direction.

            “I’ll keep an eye on him. I’ll tie him to this tree ‘til we’re ready for them.” Aiken said.

            With a grim nod, Dekari handed his brother the long coil of rope and started towards the fencedin horse yard.