Melcoal Stanfreed was a normal human. He wasn’t rich, famous, or loved by many. But that was the past, before The War of LanQuest. Before the raids of goblin generals came to slay King Ganazath. That was then, this is now. “Over here, before they catch us,” said Lastil Bamont, an elf from the city of Nayzaronk who, at the time, had not met Melcoal not but five minutes earlier. They both had been running from groups of undead when they bumped into each other and became fast allies. “Left,” yelled Lastil, “hurry, they’re coming!” “Are you sure, elf?” asked Melcoal, trying to catch his breath. “Yes, my family used to come here every quarter-moon to pray for peace to last,” replied Lastil. “Some god you worship, he wont even rid us of these damned creatures,” mumbled Melcoal. “There,” said Lastil, calmer then before but still rushing, “The Forest of Beshi is through that doorway!” They both darted for the door just as a group of undead threw a hatchet where Melcoal was previously standing. “Shut the door,” said Lastil as soon as they reached the forest, “hurry up, I don’t want to be responsible for you becoming zombie-food.” “Don’t tempt me, elf, I haven’t even got a name out of you yet,” snarled Melcoal. He slammed the door hard. “So, elf, who are you and whose side do you rest on?” said Melcoal in a calm but ready-to fight manner. “I am Lastil Bamont of Nayzaronk, at your service, and you?” replied Lastil, fixing the string on his bow after being cut by an undead. “I am the great Melcoal Stanfreed. I have no place to call my own, and I fight for the Ganazath Army although they threw me in that damned temple. I now fight for no one but myself,” Melcoal said ready to demand an answer to his next question, “now, whose side do you rest on?” Lastil looked at Melcoal quickly “Shut it, Mr. Stanfreed, like you I rest on my own side. You see Nayzaronk is a neutral empire, but I, like most elves who live in the slums left knowing that one day our home would be destroyed. Is that enough for you Mr. Stanfreed? Is that what you wanted to here?” “Yes,” replied Melcoal, “I apologize about my demanding, but I do not wish to bond with someone who wishes death upon me. Do you travel alone?” “Yes, but I am in search of a warrior companion,” said Lastil, now relaxed. Melcoal looks at Lastil with glee while swinging his blade, “Hmm, we may be able to work something out. How well can you shoot an arrow?” Without any hesitation, Lastil shot a single arrow. One second later Melcoal heard a loud scream of pain. “I hit an artery of a wandering orc. He should be dead in 30 seconds. Does that answer your question Mr. Stanfreed?” “Please, call me Melcoal,” he said as he sat back on a rock. “Do I really know this elf? Elves are normally friendly creatures but there were some when they came. I don’t know what’s what ever since the goblins came. Then they tried to kill me…” he thinks to himself. He remembers a lot, a lot for a human that is. “Where am I?” He thinks, “Wait, this happened yesterday, a battle, yes, the one between a goblin fortress and… and the Ganazath Army. We lost the battle with only 12 survivors, me being one of them. But why did we try to attack the goblin’s fortress with only 1500 men? Why did Prince Silvento order a mission everyone knew would be suicide?” “Melcoal, wake up,” said a familiar voice. It was his former comrade, Chester Loumant, “Mel-,” “I’m awake Chester,” Melcoal replied, “what do you want, my friend” Chester looked as if in suspicion but didn’t ask any questions. “General Mocnall told me to tell the troops to prepare for battle.” Melcoal drew his mursumi, “This is suicide, Chester, we’ll die for sure. If I survive I will personally draw my sword to the prince. He will never be my king.” “Be quiet or he may order you dead next,” Chester said looking around. It became clear that he wouldn’t survive this battle. As they drew near the fortress, the chances of attack became frequent. By the time we reached the goblins they had already received word of our coming. Arrows flew from overhead before our warriors could put up their shields. Some of us didn’t have shields, only swords, like me like Chester. The crowd of men screamed of war cries and tears for lost comrades as we rushed toward the large wooden doors. “Melcoal, look,” exclaimed Chester, “They… Their coming!” Melcoal looked up as arrows flew from above killing innocents. The doors began to open as thousands of goblins poured out wielding spears and clubs. “Die, scum!” Chester said with a panic in his voice, “I will not be defeated today” Melcoal looked at Chester wondering if he ever saw him so angry, “Chester, we must leave, we cannot stay here.” Chester picked up a clump of sand from the beach and threw it at a goblin, “Yes, and where do you propose we go?” Melcoal saw the hoards of goblins coming toward them. He knew where to go just not where it was. “The wooded area we passed earlier. There’s so ents in there that will help us out.” Melcoal wakes up. “I see you have rested nicely?” asked Lastil from up in a tree, “the goblins are coming this way. About 1000 of them, my guess is to attack Galump. Such a small city will never survive such a horde!” Melcoal stands up, “How far away are they?” he asked just as a deer ran past him in fear. Lastil looks from the trees out onto the wilderness below him. “Their already here.” Melcoal looks around in confusion, as goblins appear to surround them in seconds. “Lastil, I think you know what I do to people who make me angry when I wake up?” he said drawing his sword from its holster. Lastil looks down in agreement, “Leave one alive, I want him to tell the tale,” he yelled as he fired multiple arrows at the horde and never missing. Melcoal had fully drawn his sword just as a goblin jumped onto his back. Lastil saw the goblin and shot it in the back of its neck. Melcoal looks up, nods, and slashes a goblin in front of him. “Stop,” said a scratchy voice from one of the goblins, “take them with us, we will need more food for Master.” The goblins closed in on Melcoal, overpowering him and chaining him to a piece of wood. Another group of goblins started using hatchets to chop down the tree Lastil was in and putting him in a piece of wood like Melcoal’s. “Master will be pleased with our catch, although we’ll need more when we destroy Galump,” said the goblin chieftain. By: Brad Murray (M. Weigmans boyfriend and designer of site)