Cleo-the beginning

<---msnavigation-->

Mork Incorporated

"Bringing you the next to best tomorrow"

Home Page

This Site is still in works , there is currently over 60 pages of writing and it grows more every week. Please enjoy the writing below. - Mork

Prologue
Staring over a ruin of a quiescent volcanic mountain coated with a blanket of lava rock and stories of battles untold. Figures stood petrified, frozen in time, coated with the sheet of the lava rock. Two young winged individuals, Mihitsu and Clarion walked down through the aged battlefield of the volcano that housed the dark army of Nabulous Le’Critious a very powerful and chaotic fire demon.
They strolled through the ghostly aroma of the landscape and all of its occupants.
“So where h’is this hero yer’ blabbin’ about Clare?” “He done said he’d be here, Mi’. So that means he will be here’s” They continued to walk through the valley of rocks and memories. One figure stood, blanketed in the lava rock, like a timeless statue it towered over the pair like a column. It’s shape was difficult to make out, but none the less, it was definitely once a powerful individual. The grave of the Demon itself, Nabulous Le’Critious was locked in the lava rock. The two stared at the form in awe for quite sometime. It was astonishing how the demon’s head protruded out of the rocky column, it’s face was frozen in time, and the look of a raged killer still creased through it’s mummified head. Most of the demon’s body was coated in the thick lava, it’s arms, legs, and chest were almost impossible to make out. As if the demon were trying to crawl out of the ground itself. A handle of a blade lay in it’s chest, not touched by the Lava, as if even the boiling rock feared to touch the blade at the time of the battle.
The handle of the blade was brilliant in design, simple, but in the same time complex. Wrapped in gold and silver, as if almost braided. The sword of Cleo, a highly respected hero of the Mihitsu and Clarion’s, and their entire town’s history, lay in the demon’s chest. “Aye, will ye’ look at that Mihitsu! That un’ will look great on me wall! C’mon help me get it out!” “No! No one touches that sword!” Clarion yelled as harsh as his young voice could sound. “Tis the sword of Cleo!” “Well I’ll thank this Cleo sir fer it when I’s sees him” “Ye’ will will ye’?” A voice from behind the two sounded, the voice nearly startling the two out of their boots. Looking behind them the pair could see a simple dressed elf. Although the appearance of the elf portrayed him as mild aged, his eyes showed age beyond imagination and intimidating wisdom. The elf was dressed in a tan tunic, black pants that wrapped around his waist and tied together to form the legs, and a simple set of black moccasins. His long silverfish hair was tied back tight and slick.
“Well sir Cleo be a friend of me father’s, and since they’s be long gone. That leaves me with the responsibility of the sword and who be the privileged one to hold her”
Clarion grinned at the elf then looked at Mihitsu, who was startled and on the defensive. Mihitsu stepped down from the form of the demon, never leaving the elf out of his sight. “Who are ye’ sir?” Mihitsu’s curiosity raced through his head, and his face showed it in his wonderment. Mihitsu kept a distance from the elf, looking like a startled deer ready to run. “I sir, am Kade O’Guille, son of Dimitri O’Guille. Leader of the Mercenaries of the Red Knights, and protector of the Sword of Cleo.”
Mihitsu sucked in a breath, trying to look bigger in front of Kade. “Well that’s impressive sir Kade er, whatsit O’who. But me ole’ father told me that the M.O.R.K. disappeared years before I’s was born.” Kade grinned like a mischievous child, “Yer ole’ father’s Kerrect der’ lad. But just ‘ecuz ye’ do not see somethin’ does not mean it dun exist”. In a flip of his wrist, a small dirk seemed to appear in his hand, flipping from his sleeve of his tunic and into his grasps.
Mihitsu stepped back, obviously threatened, but Clarion smirked and tilted his head, obviously amused by Kade. Kade turned the dirk around to show Mihitsu the handle. Burnt and indented on the handle, and outlined with a thin thread of gold was a symbol. The symbol was of a Griffin grasping onto a Serpant in a picture of battle. “The symbol of the M.O.R.K.! “ Mihitsu’s voice almost shrieked with amazement as he peered closer. Mihitsu looked over the blade as Kade handed it to him. The blade only seemed a few terms old and not very worn down. “How ? wha’ ? er where did ye -“ Mihitsu questioned Kade dumfoundedly, Kade winked at Mihitsu while still keeping his sheepish smirk. “I dun told yer’ lad’ the M.O.R.K. is still active, we’s just dun get seen as much anymore.” Mihitsu marveled over the dirk, twirling it around like a child, completely fascinated by the mastercraft design of the blade.
“Ever since Nabulous Le’Critious died, and the construction of Horned Peak was completed, we’s dun stayed to ramblin’” . “Why? Why didn’t ye’ stay in Horned Peak?” Clarion questioned curiously. “We’s aren’t made to sit on our thumbs and live a homely life, the life of a mercenary and keeper of the peace is a ramblin’ un’.”
Mihitsu looked up at the gigantic twelve foot high column of lava rock that seemed to imprison the lifeless form of the demon. “How did he get here? Do ye’ know? ‘n’ why do ye’ guard this sword?” Kade looked up at the mummified form of the evil war lord, then shrugged and looked back at the boys. “I could tell ye’ but ye’d never understand. This ground, this battlefield….It’s the end of a very large story.” “Could ye’ tell us sir?” Clarion asked , while sitting down on a patch of dried grass and leaning his back against the lava rock column that embraced the departed demon . Kade looked at them both while scratching his chin and pacing back and forth. He paced back and forth for a few steps and nodded. “I guess, if ye’ got enuffs’ time I thinks I’s could mates” “Tell us then!” both shouted playfully at the elder river elf. “Oh all right mates , here it goes, now no interruptions ors I stop altogether Oh-right?”
Both the young boys nodded vigorously. “All right, let’s get started, we mays be able to get done before nightfall.”

Hidden, deeply, within the heart of a forest not far off of Rose Creek, behind layers of foliage that seem to cover the forest like a green blanket, sat the village of the Tobeski.
The Tobeski were much like a mix of bat and man. “ Winged elves” they were called, always soaring from the treetops like greased lightning. Although peace loving and extremely friendly and gentle creatures, the Tobeski were well known and respected, to those who had known of their rare kind, for their love of battling foes. This is where our story began.
In the early morning hours, just before dawn with the morning dew still dripping off the leaves of the trees, the village came to animation with the ring of the town bell. The clanking noises from the tinkers and blacksmiths, the fluttering of wings from the Tobeskis bombing down, spreading their wings just before they hit the ground, and the whines from the younger Tobeski children as they get shuffled off to school in the town house. The town house was the only building that was built on the ground, due to it’s size. All other buildings, huts, and even homes were built within the giant tree branches. " Aw! Mom why do I have to go to Town house study today? I'll go tomorrow I promise!".
A young Tobeski child whined as he was being shuffled off to school. The child’s mother, with her sweet, doting, smile, kneeled down next to him and said with a caring, yet concerned voice
" Okay, how about this, you go to the Townhouse and study today, and when you get home I'll bake you an Acorn pie, sound good?" .
He shook his head with disagreement " Aw! C'mon mama! I'll stay home and go without pie! It'll save you trouble! Tis not like I’s don’t know how to fly, what is Seargent driffle gonna show me that I dun know already!"
His mother, trying not to laugh, held a stern face and said
"Now Cleo Ratimus, you march your little butt to townhouse study right now! No more and's please's or but's, just go or I'll tell your father!"
Cleo, taking his father very serious, shrugged his shoulders and glided off. Cleo had no intentions of going to school. Why should he have to practice on flight acrobatics when he already knew that part like the wind under his wings? He was merely thirteen years old, his mother should be able to grow up and realize that he knew how to fly, he knew how to perform math, he was even passing in Demonology, which is something that SHE never passed at! Even his language tutor had told him that he was one of a kind when it came to performing adacemically in school, or was it amedecally? or something like that.
Cleo glided slowly, waiting till the perfect moment when he knew he wasn’t going to be seen, and then he flapped his wings violently, as if he were falling, and raised his altitude far above the tree canopy. Cleo laughed, if his mom had seen him she would of clipped his wings. More then once she had scolded him for flying over the forest canopy, she said that it was the village’s only form of protection. If a few tree branches and leaves is a village’s only way of protection then they need to recruit more perilous flyers like him. Cleo longed for the chance to be recruited for the hefty flyers, to be a captain of the winged arms like his dad was, Cleo know he could do it so easily, if only the dumb tutors at the town house knew as well. He soared over the treetops, staring down at his shadow that swooped over the shade of leaves. He flew for quite some time until the canopy began to disperse. Below him sat a rock quarry with a large river running through it, flanked by a collection of smaller brooks and streams.
The marshlands, Cleo flew on for a short distance until he found a place to perch on a dead willow tree. The marshlands were eerie; in some areas the grass would be totally green and rampantly growing, while others were dried and dead. Trees grew green and strong in patches, sitting adjacent from a dead oak tree. The cover of the forest was small, barely any canopy enveloped the marshland sky; Cleo went here often to catch frogs and toads. Cleo sat still on a willow branch in silence, allowing the marshlands to regain its life. Within minutes Cleo spotted a frog hopping to and fro between a series of rocks. He crouched down on the branch as if he were a tiger getting ready to pounce. His wings slightly spread, and his muscles strained to launch into flight like a loaded spring; Cleo waited for the frog to hop. At the exact second the frog leapt into the air, so did Cleo. Cleo soared through the air at tremendous speed, the speed of the wind caused his legs to flap like flags behind him. He zipped over the rock bed, held out his hand, and “PLOP!” Cleo caught the frog before it had landed on the next rock. He slowed to a halt, by spreading his wings, and glided to the ground. “Wowee ye’ a big feller arencha?” Cleo grinned and held tight on the large slimy frog. Cleo placed the frog in his front pocket of his jacket and patted it. “Ye be good in there frog or I’s might have to feed ye’ to the geese!” He then spread his wings and dove into the air. Soaring over the rock bed that seemed to cascade along the riverbank like quills on a porcupine’s back, Cleo swooped low, catching air beneath his wings, he then soared upward and completed a full loopdy-loop in midair. He glided to the riverbanks where a patch of green grass stood. The grass was almost knee high and Cleo made it a perfect landing spot. Acquiring his footage on the soft ground just in the knick of time to hear rocks crackling down stream of him. Cleo peeked down the rock bed to see a charcoal black figure walking down the riverbanks. The creature slightly resembled a shape of a mutant elf of some sort. The creature was wielding a large cleaver, and black armor that was obviously old and battered from past battles. Cleo knelt down in the knee-high grass and watched the creature from a distance. The creature looked anxiously around the rock bed as if trying to spot something, then looked back to the forest edge, where it had came from, and yelled.
“Coast’s clear Lord, must’ve been merely only a passer by that you saw!” A large, lengthy, figure walked out in the clearing, flanked by a rather large group of the charcoal black soldiers. The very sight of the tall creature made Cleo’s blood run cold. He was tall, serpentine, and birdlike all within the same figure. Every inch of him was a black, fluorescent toned, shade of oil slick appearance.
“Why would a passerby merely fly out of no where, stare straight at you then fly away and perform a dazzling display of speed as he was leaving hmm Bashel? Tell me please I’m curios.”
“ I-I do not know Sire”
“ Smack!” The tall figure laid the orc out with a light slap. “Of course you don’t you insolent orc! Do not dare try to give me advice, it is my job to tell you what to do and not otherwise! Are we clear!” “Ye-Ye-Yes Sire crystal clear sire!”
“Good! Now listen hear, I do not wish for any screw-ups!…. Bashel!” “Yes sire what is your wishes?”
“ I want you to take half the force and go north by west, then cut in to the east. I will lead the other half and go north by east then cut in west towards you.”
“ The pincher movement sire?”
“Yes you impertinent, slobbering bag of wasted space! Now can I at least rely on you to follow those orders or do I need to assign another captain?” “ No sire you do not need to assign another captain sire! I understand perfectly your lordship!”
“ Good then I shall blame you. If this action goes wrong it will be your head! Dismissed Go now!”
The force of orcs split up across the riverbanks. Cleo felt a hand grab him and violently jerk him behind a brush cover. He tried to yell but the figure covered his mouth and whispered. “You’d do yourself a great deal of favor if you stayed quiet matey, this could get ugly if you’s were caught, so sit tight and be still mate.” Cleo focused his vision on the figure that was holding him. It was a human, with a large sword lynching off of his back. Right behind him sat another figure, this one slightly smaller and dressed in leather. The other one, Cleo identified as an elf, from his studies. The elf peered over the bushes at the orcs that were moving. “ They be heading away, looks like they be heading towards the village up ahead Deimoss. Whatcha want to do with this lil’ un’?”
“Keep ‘im safe Prosk. That’s all we’s can do at the moment. We needs to get to that village before all hell gets there before us.” The elf nodded “ Right, let us get moving. You all right there lil matey?” Cleo, who was still panicked from the entire situation nodded. “ Ye…Yes… What’s going on?”
“We’s don’t have much time to talk and cackle, but that there horde is heading for yer village on a mission to create hell for some odd reason and we intend to stop ‘em. So if ye’ would please, let’s get us moving shall we?” The trio headed through the forest, Cleo was instructed not to fly, but weave and bob, using every bit of cover. It didn’t take long for Cleo to catch on, and soon the entire trio was moving with speed underneath the cover of dead trees and foliage.
Prosk, the elf, halted the group, and ducked low on his belly. Deimoss, the human, and Cleo did this as well just in time to allow a group of orcs to run by. Prosk leaped to his feet and threw a double-edged knife at the rear orc. The knife found its mark in the back of the orc’s neck. The pack of orcs turned around just in time to meet Deimoss’s large serpentine, kriss patterned sword slicing through the first orc. Another knife zipped through the air and stuck in the forehead of an orc, rendering it lifeless. The orcs raised their cleavers and clubs and began to fight back. There was only three orcs left from the pack of five, but Deimoss took the numbers down rapidly with each swing of his blade. The small scrap was soon ended, and Prosk, Deimoss, and Cleo took towards the village in haste. Prosk retrieved his blades before running. Cleo was in shock; it was his first time to see blood and battle. “Wha..What was that!”
“ An orcen rear scout group, they sometimes trail the real party to pick off followers.”
“Save yer breath lil matey. You’ll need it to run!” As the trio came closer to the village Cleo could smell the scent of smoke and burning timbers. Cleo ran with all his might, passing up Prosk and Deimoss. Deimoss literally had to grab hold of Cleo and tackle him to the ground before they approached the village. The flames of the village could be seen over the tip of the following hills ahead of them, Cleo’s eyes swelled with tears. “ Matey, there’s nothing you can do with rage if it isn’t mixed with knowledge. Calm yourself lil’ un’ we needs ye’ to think with yer head and not with ye’ rage!” Prosk headed forward over the hillside and peeked over the slope.
The entire village was in battle and disorder. Roaring flames soared high above the treetops from the town house. Cleo followed Deimoss towards the top of the hill, next to Prosk. Prosk turned to Cleo “ Hide here in one of these here trees lad, Deimoss and I’s are gonna settle this. Here young matey, take this, I know it’s small but it should protect ye if ye gets into a squabble. Here, now go and hide lad. We’ll find ye after tis is over.” Prosk handed Cleo a small knife, then Cleo did as he was told and perched on a high oak tree branch, well hidden behind some thick branches. Deimoss drew his serpentine blade, which was shimmering with a radiance of golden light. Now that the magical blade had sensed a demonic presence nearby, even the blade itself was ready for battle. Prosk drew a broad sword from his back. The two fighters slid off down the hill and approached the village.
Orcs violently chopped down huts from their tree lofts and savagely murdered the occupants. Cleo watched from his hiding place in the branches. The orcs seemed to be searching for something, and whenever they did not find it, they killed the occupants of the village. Cleo looked anxiously over at his house, but it was already torn down and burnt. He gasped for air and ducked below the bushes; not wanting to view much more.
The tall slender, serpentine creature ordered the party of orcs; laughing hysterically as he ruthlessly murdered and pillaged throughout the Tobeski village. His name was known to everywhere as Nabulous Le’Critious, no one spoke against his rulings. When he had encountered this village almost thirteen years ago he had ordered the village to surrender themselves to him as slaves, but they would not budge. This is the price that Nab thought they deserved to pay for insulting Nabulous Le’Critious, the mighty Demon lord! Nabulous sliced skillfully through the guards of the village. Using his claws skillfully he slashed and slayed every defender in his path. Nab’s laughing was cut short as a voice was heard over the blazing fire. “Nab! OOOH Ho Nabulous Le’Critious! You’ve been a bad, bad monkey!” “Aye! Will ye’ just look at the mess ye’ made. Our Nab is growing to be a big’un’ isn’ he Deimoss?”
“Aye he sure is Prosk. A real troublemaker he is! Bet he’s gonna have a top o’ the line temper tantrum in…. one, ….two, ….. three…” Nabulous was already dashing through the air, leaping entirely over the burning townhouse and soaring down through the air at them. Nab met headlong with a knife that zipped through the air, being thrown by Prosk. The blade dug deep in Nab’s skull, but not deep enough. He slammed to the ground, rolled to his feet, and got up. “Ahhh, well if it isn’t my good friendsssss Deimoss and Prosk?” Nab paused for a moment to wrench the knife blade from his bleeding scalp. “The only primate I see on these battle fields is the two that are confident enough to stand before Nabulous Le’Critious and die!” Nab swiped his claws outwards, raking them across Prosk’s chest, and barely missing Deimoss. Deimoss leaped forward as Nab’s claws zipped by him, he swung his sword in a sideways slashing motion, towards Nab. The demon used his swinging motion to his advantage and spun out of the way of Deimoss’s attack range. Nab’s back met in contact with Prosk’s sword as Prosk slashed at him violently. Nab stabbed his claws awkwardly out towards Prosk, and stabbed him straight through his collarbone. Prosk screamed in pain, just before he was brought to his fate by a swift backhand, of Nab’s razor sharp claws, across his face. “Tell Hell Nabulous Le’Critious Sent you! Eeeheheheheheeee!!” Nab turned on his heels, just as he swept off his mighty claw-like feet by a smashing blow from Deimoss. Deimoss swiped at Nab, defending all he could. Nab was extremely fast and amazingly agile for a creature his size. Nab slashed his claws out at Deimoss, then would rear back and send an extremely strong kick with his mighty talons. Deimoss sliced forward with his sword, the blade whisping through the air as if it had a life of it’s own. The golden radiated blade hissed through open air like an angry bee’s nest Just as Deimoss thought he had Nab, the very second he had Nab’s back to a tree, Nab kicked back, flipped off a tree, landed behind Deimoss, and disarmed Deimoss of his blade in mid air. Deimoss whipped around to pick up the blade, but met a solid kick to the face. Deimoss stumbled back, and was pinned to the tree by Nab’s claws. Three razor sharp claws stuck through Deimoss shoulders and into the tree; Deimoss was at a loss, his fate was awaiting him. Suddenly a small figure darted by in mid air, performing dazzling speed. The figure dashed by Nab’s back and slammed a dagger into his neck; it was Cleo! The Demon reared back, loosening Deimoss’s grip. Deimoss slid out of Nab’s grasp and picked up his blade, which was behind the demon. Nab, who had yanked the blade from his neck, had to fly straight up in the air, to avoid meeting Deimoss’s sword. Nab flapped his mighty wings only three times and he was out of sight, but his high pitched yell was heard moments after he had left sight. “You have just written your death wish, Deimoss Bess! Orcs! Kill him now!” Deimoss didn’t hesitate to run. It seemed like the entire orc ambush party was on his heels. He ran up the hill that Cleo was on top of; the Duo leaped behind a cover of pine trees and bushes and was soon out of sight; like ghosts in the breeze. The orc party followed for a short while before losing total sight of them in the dark, misty forest. Cleo and Deimoss ran until they could run no more. It felt to Cleo that his legs had transformed into rubber figures, wobbling and trembling beneath him. Deimoss had found some cover beneath a large boulder that stuck out of the ground. Beneath the boulder was a small hole, just large enough for the two of them to crawl in and collapse of pure exhaustion. Deimoss nearly passed out at the moment he had laid down. Cleo wiped Deimoss’s bruised and bloody face with a handkerchief that he pulled out of Deimoss’s pocket. “Ugh, thanks mate” Deimoss said with a groan. “What about the orcs? Aren’t they coming?” “Nah, they nevers follow this far off, especially since we be hidden in this here hole.” “Are ye’ certain sir?” “Yes I be certain. Now stop calling me sir, ye’ be making me feel old. The name is Deimoss.” “Well Deimoss, what all happened back there? Where’s my family? What happened to the rest of the villagers?” “Whoa whoa whoa! Hold with thee questions will ye’ ? One at a time boy” “I am not a boy! I be Cleo Ratimus, Son of Ulrich Ratimuss, Captain of the Winged Arms of the sacred village of Rose Andrea!” “Well, well Cleo Ratimus. First off, Nab has either enslaved or killed all of the members of that village. Not including you of course. Second of all I do not know where your family is but I plan on getting all of the village members that are enslaved back.” “When!?” “When I can gather some more fighters to ‘elp me” “I’ll ‘elp you!” “Aye, I be sure of that Cleo; but I be also lookin’ for more then one. That creature back there you saw was a Demon. A farely young Demon” “ Nab was a Demon?! How youn’?” “Only ‘bouts fifteen centuries old, a lil’ older prolly” “Fifteen centuries!? That be young for a Demon?!” “Aye, extremely, he’s full of h’arrogance and into thinking he is unstoppable. But he is extremely powerful because he is smart enough to actually lead an entire horde of orcs and who knows what else.” “Why is that weird?” “Because Demons tends to think they be better then a few orcs, ‘onestly I be thinking they be much worse!” “Well how do you plan on fightin’ an entire horde?” “I be gonna go to a place called Horned Peak Tis a stronghold built to protect peace loving soul from Hordes of Orcs and ruthless beings. Tis full of warriors and fighters.” “Have you ever been there Deimoss?” “Nay, not yet, but I’s know where it tis. I’s heard enough warriors talk and mingle of it’s whereabouts and they all have the same directions.” “What directions?” “Nevermind that Cleo, get some shut eye, we got a journey in the morning.” Cleo didn’t need a second bidding. He was extremely exhausted and soon fell asleep in the hole. This was not Bashel’s day. Bashel and his party had been searching all throughout the night for Deimoss, Nab’s most hated enemy. Deimoss was well known to the party as and extremely skilled swordsmen, bound to hunting and slaying Demons. Bashel and his crew of orcs scaled the hilltops of the forests like mad beasts. Covering the land like a large black, moving, blanket. Searching every hole, crevice, rock, and tree for the escaped duo. It was nearly dawn when Bashel saw the large dark form of Nab soaring through the air like a flying snake. His shape silhouetted the grey dawn sky. Bashel grunted, he didn’t want to face Nab on these circumstances and tell his sire that he had lost the duo. Nabulous Le’Critious landed down in front of the party like a giant crow. He looked over at the party that surrounded him. Walking through the group Nab approached Bashel. “Any signs of them Bashel? I’m assuming with a large regiment at your command you certainly have at least got a trail.” “Sire we have followed them throughout the night, it seems as if they have disappeared and eluded us sire!” Nab’s lips curled in disgust “Well how about you and your men do not return to Komodo until you have found at least a Trail!” “But Sire!” “Silence! You are dismissed of my presence you insolent orc! How is it that your race is known to be horrid? All I see is a horrid act of tracking! You couldn’t follow a leash if it was around your neck! Now get out of my sight!” “Yes sire” The orc, although disgruntled, began to march off. Nab spoke to the orc as he was walking away. “ Oh and one more other thing Bashel!” “Yes lord?” “I want a constant flow of information relaying to the mountain, I want scouts, runners, and sentries reporting they’re observations of you and all actions and useful information brought to Komodo by you Bashel” Bashel nodded, not even saying a word, then continued marching off. In the early morning dawn Deimoss and Cleo had already gained a substantial amount of ground. Almost leaving the entire forest side already. Cleo was walking sluggish due to the lack of sleep. Deimoss had awakened him merely only three hours after he went to bed, in order to get a jump on the orcs. The pair didn’t speak much to each other, mostly dreaming of how they could go back to sleep. Cleo was extremely distant to his surroundings; the thoughts of his family and friends flooded his head like a tidal wave. So off the duo went walking through the green covered canopy of trees. Deimoss and Cleo had set off on their journey to Horned Peak. Cleo wasn’t in his best character; his dark feathered wings drooped with depression as he wandered throughout the maze of trees. Deimoss glanced at the young one with a looked of foreboding that creased through his leathered toned face. “ Ho there sky tickler! Hold up!” “What Tis it?” “We be gonna get ‘em, I be promising ya that mate” “Who Deimoss? Get Who?” “The flippin’ demons and orcs who else would I be gappin’ ‘bout” Cleo’s fists clenched with rage, as his tear stained face formed to a snarl. “No Deimoss! I shall be the one to kill ‘em all! They killed my family and they murdered my friends, and burned down me ole village! I’s will be the one to kill ‘em!” Cleo’s voice rang through the forest as if it were a cold wind. Deimoss laid a hand on Cleo’s shoulder and looked him in the eyes. “Ye’ gots the heart of a fighter mate, ye’d make the orcs run fer their mums if ye had the right trainings” Cleo tapped his left side of his chest. “ Me father told me that ye can win any battle with enough courage and heart. That is just what I’s be planning to do!” Deimoss nodded with a grin, “Aye ye ole father was a wise man Cleo. But he was also skilled in fighting I’m assuming, am I correct?” “Well yea” “Well how do ye’ expect to get skilled in fighting if ye’ do not train?” Cleo nodded, he understood what Deimoss was pointing out. “So how would I go abouts bein’ trained?” “I’s will train ye’ everything ye’ needs to know to get Nab when we gets to Horned Peak. Sound good lil’ matey? Now C’mon there’s a river up ahead where we can gets some fresh water.” The duo walked through the cover of the trees until they came to a clearing, surrounded by thick bushes. A voice hollered out at Cleo and Deimoss from the cover of the bushes. “Halt right there ye’ blibbering bags! What’s yer business here?” Deimoss put his arms up cautiously, showing that he meant no threat. “ We be just passin’ by, heading to Horned Peak we are!” “Aye we mean no harm sir!” Cleo shouted” We’s just b passin through” A river elf unmasked himself from the bushes. He had a mighty long bow, notched with an arrow that could double as a small javelin; the elf looked at Deimoss and smiled. “Well! If it isn’t the traveling troublemaker! How ye’ be Deimoss? I should of known ye’ was coming from the stench that traveled through the forest!” The elf dropped the aim of bow and approached Deimoss. Deimoss grinned ear to ear and delivered the elf a huge bear hug. “Lore! Ye’ ole scallywag ye! How ye been?” “ I’s be better if ye would release ye death grip on me!” “ Heh ye never was one fer bein held tight were ye Lore? How’s Kipp?” The Deimoss released Lore as he spoke. “Good, Kipp’s good, she still has that spark Who’s the lil’un’ ?” “This, my river riding friend, is Cleo. Cleo’s village was hit by Nab and his orcs ‘bouts just a day ago. Cleo’s the only one who escaped that I knows of.” Lore knelt down in front of Cleo and patted him on the shoulder sympathetically. “My grievances to yer loss Cleo.” Cleo nodded and stared at the ground. “It won’t be the last time I see that demon sir. I swear on me life I be gonna slay ‘im someday.” Lore looked up at Deimoss and grinned. “A real fighter ye got here Deimoss! This is the kinda mate ye needs!” Deimoss chuckled, proud of Cleo and his determination, most kids would be bawling and not wanting to see the demon again . “Aye, he already got into a small quarrel with Nab, saved me life he did! He be a skilled flyer, swooped down and stabbed Nab right in the back of the neck while Nab was ‘bout to kill me. Thought I saw me life fly by in front of me eyes, but it was only this lil’ ‘un!” Lore looked at Deimoss then looked back at Cleo in awe. “ You actually stabbed the monster and lived!? Boy ye gots more courage then a turtle without a shell!” Cleo patted Lore back on the shoulder. “ Thank ye sir, buts ye’ mind if I ask if ye gots any grub? I’m more famished then a starving field mouse!” “Food ? Why dintcha ask sooner! Deimoss will ye’ quit starving ye mates and share some food wit’ ‘em once in a while!” “I would mate, but I dun have any. I was planning on catching some fish in the river as we was passin’ by.” “Bah! C’mon you two we be heading to me hole and grabbin’ some food.” As Lore was leaving he raised his hands and clapped them loudly. At the sound of the clap the entire brushes around them stirred with movement as a group of elves entered the clearing. The party talked and chatted as they walked to the river and down the banks. As they approached to rather large boulders Lore reached his hand in a crack between the two large stones and wedged them apart. The two boulders moaned as a stone door creaked out between them. The door was obviously cut from the same rock, and it blended in as if it were part of the bank. Behind the door was a thin staircase going almost straight down. The staircase was thin and steep, and as they entered Deimoss, and a few of the elves, had to walk sideways to fit through the tunnel. Lore was the last to enter the tunnel; shutting the door behind the group he followed the party down the thin hallway. Inside the cave dwelling the air was blanketed with a thick, sweet aroma of cooking food. Cleo was in awe of the skill that had to be involved to make the underground house. Benches and tables were carved directly from the walls of stone. Seats were carved into the walls themselves, along with a fireplace. The cave den was quite comfy and homely, a small, petite elf maid approached Deimoss and Cleo. “Well I’s knew that the boys were gonna go gathering rations t’day but I’s didn’t ‘magine they’d bring back you! Ye’ ole sword slinger ye’! How ye’ been Deimoss?” The elf swung her arms around Deimoss and gave him a hug. “HoHo! Kipshaw! Well ye’ still look as striking as ye’ did the last time I laid me eyes on ye’!” The elf maid released her hug and knelt down in front of Cleo with a gentle smile. “Well who do I’s owe the pleasure of introducing meself to?” Cleo’s face blushed slightly “Cleo Ratimus, but ye’ can call me Cleo if ye’d like miss.” Kip smiled and held out her hand for Cleo to shake, but Cleo held her hand and kissed the back of it lightly. “Very well met Cleo, I be Kipshaw, Kip fer short. My, yer mum certainly taught ye’ good manners, say could ye’ teach ole Lore how to do that?” “Nay, he looks to much of a rapscallion to me” Cleo giggled playfully, still flushing slightly.. “Hehehe, Well Cleo how ‘bouts I introduce ye’ to my son. He’s ‘bout yer age, C’mon I’ll show ‘im to ye’” Kipshaw lead Cleo back into the bunkrooms, which were directly next to the kitchens. Inside the bunkrooms were various sized beds. On a smaller bunk, which was obviously a bunk from a watervessel. The carvings on the side that showed sharks and other sea fish were carved from a very fine craftsman, on top of the bunk sat an elven child. The elf didn’t even notice them as they entered. He swung his wooden sword abouts the room as if battling an invisible foe. Shouting and ducking and performing backflips from one bed to another, the elf swung his wooden sword around skillfully, slaying hundred of imaginary foes. Kip and Cleo stood in the doorway amused, both trying to suppress a giggle. “Have at ye’ ye ole scallywag. Ha! Take that ye’ nasty orc! Want one do ye’? phaa! Oh? ye’ think ye can out fight Dimitri O’Guille? The best skilled fighter in all the land!? Hahaha! Ye’ll never get close!” Kipshaw’s voice disturbed the fight “Oh Dimitri?” The befuddled elf paused for a second, looking quite embarrassed at Kipshaw and Cleo standing in the doorway. “This is Cleo Ratimus, Deimoss has dropped by and has brought Cleo here. So I’s was wondering if ye’ would¯“ “Fight ‘im?” “Huh? No certainly not! Just show ‘im around, he had a hard day.” “Okie mum” “I mean it Dimitri, don’t be a bully or I’s will personally be the one to bully ye’ back!” “Alright mum! Sheesh!” Kipshaw left the room. Almost the exact moment that Kipshaw left the room Dimitri reached under his bed and pulled another hand carved sword out from under it. “Here Cleo, by the way, name’s Dimitri O’Guille. Son of Lore O’Guille. Ye’ prolly met him. So how did ye’ run across Deimoss?” “Deimoss? Oh Nab and his orcs attacked my village that I lived in. They slayed a lot of people, and took a lot of them as slaves, I’s made me an oath that I’s will be the one to kill ‘im” It was a moment of awkward silence that was soon broken by Dimitri raising his wooden sword and pointing it at Cleo. “Not if I shall kill ‘im first!” Cleo caught on fast and raised his wooden sword that Dimitri had given him “ Oh will ye’ now ? ye’s gotsta fights me fer it!” “On guard!” “On guard!” The two swordsmen began fighting with their toy swords; flipping, jumping, and performing a succession of glittering acrobatics shows between the series of the beds and bunks. The bunkroom soon became a war zone for the dashing pair. Deimoss, Kipshaw, and Lore sat at the kitchen table drinking barley ale and joking about times of the past. Deimoss had informed them of Cleo’s story and what Cleo and Deimoss had planned to do. Lore shook his head “ Well ye’ certainly can’t go too far with the likes of two of ye’ now can ye’ now? I’s guess I’s could follow along. Dimitri and Kip haven’t got the slightest clue what Horned Peak is ‘bouts.” “Do you ye’ know what tis about? Lore?” “Aye sure do. Been there a few terms back. Full o’ fighters like ye’ said. Most argument bunch of blighters ye’ ever lay eyes on! Mostly because dwarves, elves, humans, halflings, and all sorts of creatures live there. Tis like a cave jammed with different cultures ye’ know. All excellent craftsmen tho’.” Some of the other elves had stories to share. Hilf and Chip, two elven twin brothers, had been born at Horned Peak, and knew the territory well. After the night was through the entire camp fell asleep almost immediately. Dimitri and Cleo had built themselves a contraption with some bunks that weren’t being used by the elves. Bunks were stacked upon others and walled in a small area, while some covers and blankets covered the top and created a tent for the two young swordsmen. In the morning a pair of elves arrived, both breathing heavy, Lore took them in. “ So whatcha got fer news from the south Whisp?” “Orcs! More orcs then I’s care too count, some of ‘em coming this way Lore. They hunted down a unicorn too. Blighters!” “A unicorn!? Never even saw one with me own eyes! Why’s they need it?” “Blibberin bags of trash! They said some beast named Mace … er no Malice needed it. Sounds like this mask is their leader or lord or something. Any how me brother and I was leaving when the blighters came in like a herd of cows. They tore apart our cottage in search of something. It musta been something alive ‘cause they was speaking like it they was scared they could of frightened it off or it hadn’t arrived yet. So me brother says to me that we should head north down the river and find ye’ perhaps ye’ could ‘elp uselves in some fashion, ye’ know what I’s mean get our beloved hut back an all.” “Aya Lore they was eat’n all of me mum’s smoked trout and they took me vat of strawberry ale! Nearly seven terms ole’ tis was!” “Look ‘ere ye’ two! Whisp, Groil. I knows how bad it tis to have ye’ home taken over. Deimoss and yun’ Cleo just had it happen yesterday. So we’s be headin’ to horned peak. Deimoss thinks that the orc army is mobilizing for some reason and we’s dun intend to let ‘em go very far. I am not gun to risk any more lives then I ‘ave too Whisp. But I do intend to make ‘em pay.” “Ye means to tell us ye’ ain’t gonna ‘elp us get our family ‘ut back? Lore that ‘ut is older ‘en yew or I’s put together! I grew up in that! These orcs ‘ave to pay fer it!” “Look Groil. I know. But tisn’t gun to work just marching in there with no plan!” “Lore’s right brother. Whatcha intend to do Lore?” “Ye’ said the orcs are head’n this way am I right?” “Aye!” “Well I ain’ gun to go south and fight to get ye’ ‘ut back but I do intend on attack’n ‘em so we set up an ambush for their boats. “ “Sounds oh right Lore, but whatcha intenden us to do after we ambush ‘em ? “ “We take their boats and head south to Horned Peak and come back this way when we’s got an ‘tire army on our backs! Whatcha say boys?” The response, which was in unison, hit Lore like a tidal wave. “Aye!” “Aye Lore we’ll slew ‘em through ‘n true! Every last un’ of ‘em!” After some planning, Deimoss, Lore, and the others had made a plan. The ywere to set up a line in the water that would be pulled tight and hold the lead boat still. Lore would then cast a hook rope on the deck of the river raft and pull it to the shallow side and allow the boat to be boarded by the ambush party. Throug the rest of the day everyone, including Cleo and Dimitri, was armed with a weapon. Cleo got a short sword while Dimitri had a dirk, Lore had his two short swords that he preferred over any other blades. Deimoss had his serpentine long sword, Kipshaw favored a saber while Groil and Whisp had their rapiers. Most of the other elves had long bows and short swords. The entire party wandered down the river until they found the perfect ambush spot. Cleo was to be the boat linemen, he determined when to pull the rope, which was a big action for the little adventurer. It was merely dusk when one of the Elven scouts came trotting back to report the news to Lore. “They be com’n Lore! Get ready! They be up by the cave rights about now, good thing ye’already packed up Kip! The blibbering bags gots goblin scouts along the shoreline search’n the cave as we speak!” “All right everyone! Stay still an’s silent. We be’s having company in less time then we knows it.” Cleo flew across the river while holding on to a loose rope. He wrapped his end around a large pine, as Dimitri did the same on the opposite side of the shoreline. Through the darkness Cleo could see the silhouettes of the orc riverboats coming. The entire riverbank fell silent and every member of the ambush party hid in silence. Judging by the surroundings a stranger couldn’t even tell that there were twelve figures hiding in the woods. The Ambush party sat in the still darkness, watching the riverboats approach. Cleo crouched behind the tree, clutching onto the loose rope, which was wrapped around the mighty pine. The riverboats were within a short distance of the rope, and the ambush party. The voices of the orcs could be heard while messing with something tied down under a canvass. “ Keep it steady you blaggards!” one of the orcs said, with a lone toned growl. The orcs were violently beating, whatever was in the canvass net. One of the orcs drew a spear and stabbed harshly into the canvass, sending the occupants of the net to lay lifeless on the deck. A sound of a horse cry shrieked through out the forest, and breaking the silence of the night. Just at the moment of the cry, a rope protruded from the water, taunt from shoreline to shoreline. The rope was higher then boat’s deck and it tripped the front lookout orcs and sent them tumbling into the water. As the boat rushed forward, the rope cleared the deck of the craft like a giant trip line, sending orcs tripping this way and that. Arrows fell from the sky like a hailstorm onto the first riverboat. The line finally caught onto the rear rudder, and the boat lurched to a halt. Arrows continued to fall, like a mad volley of hornets, out of the darkness. From the bushes, another rope flung onto the craft’s deck, this rope had a mighty hook on the end of it. The moment the hook caught a hold of the boat it pulled it to shallower water. Orcs pulled out cleavers, spears, and clubs, and began to charge off the boat, and into the bushes. Deimoss leaped out of the bushes, holding his serpentine sword, and sliced an orc in two. Rocks, bushes, and various foliage, became alive with elves charging the banks. One of the rear orc riverboats crashed into the backside of the paralyzed craft. Lore dashed out of his hiding place, behind a large boulder, and attacked an orc with his two short swords. Some elves had already made it onto the riverboat, and began firing arrows on the craft that had smashed into its rear. A small band of Goblins charged out of the woods on Cleo’s side of the river. Thinking fast Cleo raised his sword and chopped low at the closest goblin. Orcs rushed down the banks, brandishing various barbaric weaponry, like a mad horde. Deimoss used his sword skillfully, and sliced it through an orc. Lore jumped aboard the boat and cut the trip line, allowing the boat to begin moving. “ Move yerselves mates, all hands on deck!” Cleo was overloaded with a massive amount of goblins, already had he slain five, but Goblins seemed to multiply out of thin air. Hearing Lore’s yell, Cleo bolted straight up into the air, to avoid the mob of goblins, and flew across the river, onto the moving riverboat. Deimoss trotted down the riverbanks with his back turned to the craft, facing the orc party he hopped aboard the boat. Dimitri speedily ran from his tree cover, and straight to the boat, avoiding the grasps of orcs. The riverboat lazily moved down the stream, slowly gaining speed in the current. Elves continued to pound volley after volley of arrows at the riverboats behind them. Lore, Deimoss, and a few other larger elves, took oars and began rowing. Cleo walked over to the canvass net, and opened it cautiously. There sat a sight Cleo had only dreamt about in his wildest dreams. A solid, silk white horse, with a tint of silver in his fur it’s hooves had a slight golden tone to them, and protruding from it’s head stuck one singular mighty horn, a unicorn! The creature leaned its head over towards Cleo and snorted lazily before falling to the deck lifeless. It took several moments for Cleo to realize what he had just witnessed. Dimitri walked over to Cleo, not noticing the unicorn yet, “ So Cleo what do these bloats got her …. Oh buy me a dress and call me a princess! Lore looks at this! C’mon quickly!” . Lore handed his oar to another elf and walked over to the canvass. Jaw dropped, in amazement, Lore gasped and bent down to touch the body of the creature in silence. “ Lore, is is is that what I think it is?” “ Yes Dimitri, yes it is…. Deimoss C’m here and take a looksie at what Cleo found.” Deimoss walked over to the canvass “You lot look like you’ve seen a ghost!”, and then stood back for a moment, with the same amazed look as the others. Lore gave the unicorn’s horn a tug, then shook his head with a grin “That’s one mighty beast mates, never thought I’d live to see one of these creatures! What’s you suppose we do with it Deimoss?” “Dunno Lore, Cleo found it you say?”. Cleo nodded vigorously “ Yes sir! I watched it take its last breath before it died, it looked right and me and passed away.” Dimitri chuckled heartedly “ No wonder, one sight of you even makes me want to dive overboard!”. Cleo shook his head with a grin “ Would you prefer to swim instead? “. Lore looked up at Deimoss with a slightly agitated look “ Flippin’ orcs! Slaying such a creature like this!” “ You know that ol’ myth Lore, whoever slays a unicorn is cursed. They say it brings ye’ bad karma and unlucky stars till death.”. Cleo thought to himself, perhaps he wasn’t going the only one who had a score to settle with Nab. “ Keep it on board for now, we’ll figure out what to do with it when we’s get to Horned Peak” Lore ordered a sentry to post on the boat; two elves sat watch, in shifts all through out the night, while the others slept. Flying high over the clouds, soaring through the sky like a small storm, flew a group of flyers. Ulrich Ratimus had been flying over three days straight. Trailed by Ulrich, were three children and Ulrich’s right hand man Sergeant Driffle of the Winged Arms. While their village was being destroyed Driffle and Ulrich had grabbed all the supplies they could, along with some of the children, and made a run for it. They flew through the night in solo; their destination was to be the winger camp, nearly a day and a half’s flight away from them. Ulrich knew a few members of the wingers, and knew that they would help with his plan. His plan was to search for the demon that had murdered his wife and his child that he loved so much, and slay him. The mere thought of the demon made Ulrich’s blood boil with rage. He knew he had to group together a substantial amount of people to do this task, but he didn’t know how he was going to do it, but he knew that he had to. Ulrich and his party flew on through the night, soaring over the clouds. Most of the party had already learned to sleep during the day and travel at night, this way it made it harder for enemies to spot them as they flew. The party continued on through out the night with Ulrich leading the pack of flyers in silence. Only if the party were lower would they have seen orc rafts below on the river. . Days went by without any action, the group traveled non-stop, only to stop to gather food. Cleo busied himself by practicing flying tricks that he had learned back at his home. Deimoss and Lore had gathered stout pieces of driftwood and were carving make shift weaponry, such as pikes, spears, and javelins. Dimitri helped out in any way he could, mostly thinking of new ways for Cleo to improve his flying, picking out obstacles for Cleo to fly through and around. Dimitri would shoot an arrow or a sling stone in the air for Cleo to catch, or dodge. Days passed into weeks, and the weather began to chill as they floated into a mountain area. Lore and his party of river elves were busy fishing off of the raft, with hand made fishing poles. Cleo was gliding over the water, far ahead of the craft, when he smelled the scent of burning timbers. The aroma of thick smoke filled the air, and Cleo could see smoke billowing over the treetops, just around a bend in the river. He flew high, above the canopy of the trees, and glided over the obscure area. Below was a burning raft, much like the one that his group had stolen. Orcs, goblins, and other creatures lay slain on the riverbank. Cleo turned around and flew back, hastily, to his group’s boat. Cleo landed firm on the deck in front of Lore and Deimoss. “ How ye’ be ol’ scout? Any news?” “ There sure is! Someone attacked an orc boat up ahead a distance, the whole thing is a blaze!” Deimoss stood up , “ Any sign of who did it ? How many is there?” “ About twenty dead orcs and more slain goblins then I can count, I didn’t see any sign of the attackers tho’ “ Deimoss looked down at Lore “ What should we do?” “ Don’t bother, my guess is dwarves, they live very close to here, I’m actually surprised we haven’t seen the likes of ‘em yet. They usually stroll up and down the riverbanks acting like a bunch of ornery crabs on a beach. All lugging Iron back to their mines and making such a ruckus that they could easily wake the bears up out of their holes.”. Cleo peered downstream with a worried look “ You mean walking upstream with a bunch of axes?”. Lore looked up at Cleo, and then looked downstream. About six dwarves were running up river, on the shores. They waited till they got on either side of the craft before a large dwarf yelled “ Pull yer’ boat over onsure or we’ll bloomin’ sink it where it floats!”. The elves stood up and raised their bows, notched with arrows, and aimed at the dwarves. Lore stayed sitting, not even looking at the dwarves and calmly yelled. “Whatho’ Meek, how be ye’? “ “ I be warnin’ ye’ Lore, pull yer boat onsure or ye’ be sunk.” “ Quit yer’ jesting ye’ old clown, let us pass, we mean no harm, just trying to get to Horned Peak.” “Who ye’ callin’ old!? Blibberin’ elven fool! Pull ye’ boat over now!” “Sorry Mate, yer gonna hafta try to sink us, C’mon now let’s see whatcha dwarven jesters got!” “So be it ye’ old bag, I be guessin’ that those stories of wise elves be blunderin’ fibs, guessing by the likes of ye’. Take ‘er down men!” Not a moment later a large net protruded from the water up ahead. It was a short distance away from the boat, and closing in fast, by the speed of the raft on the swift water. Lore shrugged and stood up, pulling his mighty long bow off his back, he notched an arrow in his bow the size of a small javelin and let it loose. The arrow met its mark perfectly, cutting the top, main line of the net, allowing it to sag slightly. Other elves followed his example and began launching arrows at the net. Lore shouted to Deimoss “ C’mon mate, row like ye’ got hell on yer heels!”. The duo rowed with big strokes, causing the raft to speed up towards the net at a more rapid pace. Cleo spread his wings and dove into the air and soared low above the water. He drew his short sword and sliced at the net, skillfully, cutting one of the lines. An arrow zipped by him, nearly hitting him. The raft hit the net with incredible speed; the water-drenched twines began to give under the pressure of the hefty weight of the riverboat. Deimoss and Lore continued to row, even though the boat was at a halt, causing even greater pressure on the ropes. Suddenly, without warning, another line protruded out of the water, from underneath the boat. The rope pulled a large hook from across the river, a small wake formed behind the hook from the speed it was being pulled. It stuck deep in the side of the raft, and began to turn it sideways. Dimitri leaped up, grabbing his dirk; he swiped at the hook’s line. The boat lurched sideways and caught in the net like a fish. Lore drew his two short swords and sliced down the middle of the net. Deimoss picked up his serpentine sword from the deck of the riverboat, and hacked down on the net. Bits and pieces of the net fell into the water like graded cheese, but the hooked rope still pulled the boat towards the shore. Deimoss swiped down at the rope, attached to the hook, and sliced it clean off. The boat ripped through the torn net, and began to float sideways down the river, with a small group of dwarves still trailing on the banks. “Tell me that isn’t all ye’ got Meek?” But he spoke to soon, as a large metal fence shot out of the water and stuck straight up; followed by a net that caught the boat, like an apple in a basket “Lore! What ye’ doin’ up there ol’ friend?” “Fishing!” “Oh are ye’ now ? Well I best not disturb ye’. We’ll just leave ye’ to yer peace Lore. Hey they be a band of Kobolds out ‘n bouts somewhere nears here, so say hi to ‘em for me will ye’” The dwarves walked away, and quickly disappeared amongst the verdant cover of the foliage. Cleo glided and perched on the lines of the net and began to slice them with his blade. The ropes were thick and strong and Cleo had to use a lot of force to even cut one bristle, but surely and true the lines began to break. Dimitri tugged at the hook that was still stuck in the side of the boat, until it came loose then he placed it on his back. Deimoss, Lore, and the other elves began sawing at the lines, and within a few short moments the line broke and the boat crashed in to the water, drenching all of it’s occupants with it’s colossal sized splash. The boat floated forward not much more then a few yards, where it stopped at the metal fence sticking out of the water. “Cleo lad! Can ye’ see if there be a lever or a rope of some sort that is holding this here fence up? “ “ Aye, will do Lore” and Cleo zipped through the air and out of sight for a brief moment, while he searched through the extremely bushy coastline. The moment that Cleo left, as almost the same moment he had returned, followed by a short volley of pebbles flying threw the air at him. “Haaheeeheheeehee! ‘et the buwd man!” “We’m hitt’n ‘em hawd!” Lore stood up from the decked of the soggy craft. “ Kobolds, a bloody tribe of Kobolds! Will we ever get away from trouble or will we be seein’ it comin’ from all bloody sides? All right mates, I wants one quick hammering onto thems trees right there! One Two Three!” A short, but thick hailstorm of arrows whizzed into the trees, tearing some of the foliage, and causing the bushes to shake, followed by an agonized scream. It was silence, Lore and his elves sat silent waiting for any sign of further aggression, but no sign ever came. Lore looked over at Cleo and whispered, “ All right young un’ go and takes a look, if the coast is clear then find that lever so we can gets our ugly mugs out of this here area.” Cleo glided off behind the bushes, following the line attached to the fence. He landed close by a wheel, with coils of tight line attached, sitting next to a dozen sets of wheels, all with various lengths of ropes, but none were tight. Cleo was just about to reach the lever and give it a tug when a noose stuck around his neck. Lifted high into the air, Cleo dropped his short sword, and struggled and fought with the noose to gain a breath. “ Catcha buwd man!” A creature whispered into his ear, as he was hoisted above a tree branch. A dozen or so rat-like goblin creatures tied him down harshly to the tree branch and binded his arms and legs almost fully around the branch. The kobolds then gagged Cleo and tied his noose around an above branch, causing Cleo’s head t obe held upwards in an uncomfortable position. Cleo’s neck was straight up, held by the taunt line, it was hard to breathe but it was possible. He was staring down at a creature resembling a cross between a rat and a lizard, bearing a slingshot and a make shift spear with a scorpion tied to the end of it; this wasn’t Cleo’s day at all. Lore and Deimoss sat waiting for Cleo’s return, getting impatient, Deimoss sat up and put his sword on his back. “ C’mon ye’ ole twine buster, let’s go take a swim and find out where Cleo be.” “ Can I come too pleeeaaassseee ! “ Dimitri begged, “ Sure ye’ can, if can cross the river.” The party climbed into the water, all of them letting out a shock of exasperations from the glacial cold water, that covered them to their shoulders. Dimitri swam like greased lightning to the shores of the river, despite the current. Lore and Deimoss were at the shores within moments. Dimitri, who was already squeezing the water out of his tunic, heard a snap of a twig not far behind the bushes “ Cleo? …. That ye’ stench I smell ye’ mud swallower you’” “TWAP!” Dimitri was smacked across the side of the head from a pebble, and knocked to his knees. Lore raised his bow and signaled to the other archers to keep their eyes on the bushes of the shore. Deimoss looked at Lore and nodded, then drew his sword and ran into the bushes. “ Chaaarrgggeee!” Followed by a barrage of arrows into a set of bushes on one side of the trio, came a pack of Kobolds, facing Deimoss and his mighty blade. Lore shot one through the middle with his bow, notched another arrow, and finished off a second Kobold before it had a chance to raise it’s spear. Dimitri raised his dirk and tackled a kobold, the kobold wrestled Dimitri to the ground and pinned him. Dimitri kicked up his legs with all of his might and sent the kobold flying over him; landing on it’s back. He got to his feet, along with the kobold, and dashed at it again, this time stabbing it through the middle and killing it instantly. Nothing could stop Deimoss from swinging his blade; he was plowing through the bushes and hacking at anything that got into the blade’s deadly path. The elven archers had exited the raft and were swimming towards the shore, as a small amount of pebbles and sling stones buzzed through air at them and splashed into the moving current. Noticing that the pebbles didn’t have the same effect on the elves as it did on Dimitri and Cleo, the kobolds began throwing river rocks at the fighters. It was blind fighting, while going through the thick layer of bushes and thorns. The foliage seemed to swallow the group whole. Kobolds relentlessly attacked from tops of the trees on the advancing party. Dimitri had the advantage of being smaller, and rushed through the bushes, running straight into a kobold, who was running criss-cross through the bushes. Knocking them both over, and sending Dimitri’s dirk out of his hands. The Kobold didn’t waste much time and head butted Dimitri, knocking him back. Stars were beginning to form in Dimitri’s vision and the sounds were being muted as the Kobold struck Dimitri again, this time punching him. Dimitri grabbed the hook off of his back and swung aimlessly at the kobold; catching it through the hand. Coming into the clear, Deimoss could see the trees crawling with kobolds, outnumbering his party more then four to one. Deimoss swiped an on coming kobold in two, and ducked a sling stone as it whistled by him with a menacing buzz. Lore popped out of the bushes not far from Deimoss and almost automatically notched another arrow into his bow and sent it flying, meeting it’s mark and hitting a kobold in the chest. Dimitri was still at it, fighting with the kobold. He had managed to stand up, but his hook was buried in the hand of the of his enemy. Dimitri didn’t let go of the hook; he used it as a hand control of the creature. The Kobold, knowing that it’s death was near, kicked wildly at Dimitri, launching him to the ground. Dimitri held on to the hook and took the kobold with him. Landing on top of Dimitri, the Kobold head butted him hard. Dimitri reached out his hand, grabbing for anything in his reach, he felt a handle of a blade but couldn’t see it. All he could see was a chaotic face of a raged kobold. He grabbed again, this time firmly grabbing the blade; he thrust it hard in the back of the Kobold. The Kobold fell limp on top of Dimitri, and breathed out its last breath. Dimitri rolled the lifeless foe off of him and looked at the blade, it was Cleo’s blade! He looked over and saw a series of levers and big rope wheels, then a larger Kobold dropped to the ground from a tree in front. This Kobold had a muddy headband on, and bearing a small saber. Dimitri had one chance; he threw his short sword at the beast. The blade seemed to spin in slow motion, twirling through the air as if it were alive, and landed blade first in the chest of his target; a direct hit! Deimoss and Lore, along with the elves, were at battle with the pack of kobolds; with Deimoss in front brandishing his sword. Lore had already claimed three, with arrows, before he had even gotten into melee. Deimoss’s sword claimed the first kobold in blade-to-blade combat; slicing it in multiple places before it had hit the ground. The elves kept a continuous volley of arrows, all the way down the last arrow they had. Kobolds were being slain left and right by the skilled fighters, Lore had pulled his two short swords and began to whirl around acrobatically twirling his blades in a circular effect, dicing Kobolds from all angles. Deimoss’s form could be seen in the middle of the pack of kobolds. Kobolds literally flew through the air as Deimoss swung his mighty sword. Kipshaw, who was bleeding from a deep cut in her forehead, sliced through the pack with lightning speed. The kobolds were beginning to retreat, never before had they encountered a group of woodlanders with such ferocity; they ran back in the woods with elves on their heels, claiming the lives of any stragglers. Dimitri was climbing a stout oak tree; he worked his way to the top where Cleo was bound to a rather large branch. He reached around and slit the kobold’s saber blade through Cleo’s bindings skillfully, and released Cleo’s gag. A sigh of relief creased through Cleo’s face “Wew! Bout bloody time you found me, any more time and I’s would have began to grow branches like this here tree!” “ Oh quit yer gabblin’! I had been encountered by a few kobolds, nasty blaggards they are! Anywhat, ye’ all right mates?” “ I’ll be fine once you can untie my wings and my hands.” “ I should of untied them first and left the gag for last, listening to you is worse then listening to a rooster on a summer’s morn’!” Dimitri helped Cleo get free of his bindings, and untied him from the oak branch. They both descended from the tree, the screams of kobolds still could be heard in the distance. “ We needs to get out of here” Cleo said, with an urgent tone of voice. “ Why?” “ I heard ‘em talking, and one was sayin’ summin’ ‘bout they released a thing called a sifter”. “ Right-o partner, we best tell Lore and Deimoss!” The two began walking through the cover when somewhere in the foliage a bush rattled, followed by a large footstep. Dimitri and Cleo stood still and listened to another footstep, this one sounded closer. After waiting for a moment in silence a lone toned, vicious animal like growl was heard within paces of Cleo and Dimitri. Whatever was behind the next line of bushes and foliage began to snarl and step forward. It didn’t take much to provoke Dimitri and Cleo into running; they ran out of the foliage, towards the bank and away from the snarling creature. As they dove into the water, heading towards the raft, they could see the bushes shaking and swelling. The waves in the bushes began moving closer and closer. Cleo helped Dimitri on the raft just in time to a see a ferocious looking creature poke it’s snout through the wall of under growth. After sizing up the situation Dimitri jumped off the other side of the boat in the shallower bank. “We needs to get out-o here! Grab some food and follow me mate!” Cleo didn’t hesitate to ask, and reached for a rations pack. He lifted the canvass cover of the unicorn in search of a decent sack. The creature had emerged in full vision on the bank, it resembled a mutant bear, large but slightly slim for it’s size, wearing a torn up tunic and savagely ripped pants, Cleo didn’t know why the bear would actually wear clothes but he didn’t feel it safe to ask. He grabbed a rations pack, and leaned his hand on the unicorn horn for support as he stood up. There was a bright glow of whitish-blue and the unicorn horn came off in his hand. Cleo grabbed the rations sack and the horn and took off in flight to the other side of the river. The two ran off in the opposite direction of the river and soon left the riverbanks, disappearing out of sight. After battling off the few kobolds that were bold enough to stay fighting, Deimoss sat down, exhausted from the fight, and collapsed against a large birch tree. Lore staggered forward and knelt down, he had several small slices throughout his tunic, but it wasn’t much. The party sat in silence for a length of time, catching their breath and regenerating their energy. Far from the battle, hidden behind rows upon rows of mountains, Mount Komodo stood. Smoke billowed over it in a large ring-shaped form. The mountain was black and jagged-edged lava rocks peppered the mountain surface like a saw blade. Beneath the razor sharp crust of the mountain, a labyrinth of tunnels, catacombs, and hallways, dimly lit by torches and lanterns made out of barbaric bones of the mountain’s enemies long past due, sat an enormous room. The room had huge stalactites hanging low from the ceiling and stalagmites protruded from the floor, allowing the dimly lit room to look like an enormous mouth. At the end of the room was a colossal-sized chair. Sitting on this chair was a monstrous, firey-red dragon. Titanic, golden scale raced across the dragon’s under belly. Lord Malice, although slightly slim, but extremely long, sat lounging in his chair, awaiting the arrival of a few of his runners and scouts. He served as Nab’s right hand since Nab was merely only a century old. It was he who convinced Nab into leading the orcs. If it were up to Nab the entire orc horde would be slain for being, what Nab called, inferior. More than a dozen occasions had Malice saved the horde from the wrath of Nabulous Le’Critious, the all-powerful fallen angel. Even Malice was intimidated by Nab. He was chaotic and extremely unruly at times. One moment he would be in his happier state, then at others Nab would be extremely harsh with his judgments. Nab would send almost an entire regiment of Orcs searching for a single small flying boy, who Nab had seen in his fanatical dreams or “visions” had he called it. Malice slumped low in his chair; he was the main leader of Nab’s force along with the head guard of Nab’s quarters. The main entrance to Nab’s room sat behind his chair. Everyone had to cross Malice in order to speak with Nabulous. Malice quirked his large ear as he listened to the footsteps approaching the entrance of the room. Three figures appeared out of the door, an orc, a goblin, and a kobold. Bowing their heads in respect to the great dragon lord, the group approached the monstrous sized chair. The chair alone sized up to be the dimension of a small cottage. Malice leaned forward “ It has been nearly a month before I have seen you last Bashel. Please tell me what business has kept you delayed.” Bashel, a rather large sized orc stood forward, “ M’lord, we have encountered an ambush party due south from here, it carries the boy that Master Nabulous speaks of sire.” Malice quirked a brow as he spoke , “ Oh?” “ Yes sire, they ambushed us while were heading back. They killed three squads M’lord, and stole our boat, along with the horse. We tracked them down though sire; they are south of us, going north into the Black mountains not far from here.”. This news is not what Malice wanted to hear, much less of what he expected. He stepped off of his mighty throne. Towering high above the orc Malice curled his lip in a snarl. “You’re trying to tell me that a measley couple of woodlanders ambushed your party, stole a boat, stole a bloody Unicorn from you, and then eluded you? Then you didn’t even keep a resistance from allowing them to enter our mountain region?” . The orc was merely trembling in his boots; he had angered the wrong person. “ Yes M’lord, But these woodlanders were experienced fighters sire, and well trained in arts of war sire!” “ Oh really now?” Malice said with a mocking look of concern. “How many ‘experienced fighters’ were there? Fifty? A hundred? Go on Bashel tell me!” “ Twel…..Twelve sire” “Smacrunch!” Malice slammed his majestic hand down and crushed the kobold standing next to Bashel. Leaning in close, Malice’s snout was in front of Bashel. “ Twelve! Twelve? Twelve woodlanders did all this damage!? How many did you lose Bashel? Do you really have a scout party following them? Careful now Bashel this is one of those times when you need to be very cautious on how you word things.” The orc was horrified; he could feel the tremendous heat flowing out of Malice’s large snout. “ Sire we …. We… we lost three squads sire, and the goblins lost five si- “ “Whoosh” A large snort of hot air blew the orc off his feet. “ That’s enough! Bashel I want you to take three squads of scouts, to replace the men you have foolishly allowed to be slain,ones that can actually fight and track. Then I want you to go back down to that pack of woodlanders and battling them on the northern bank of the river only!” “ But sire, why only the northern bank?” “ Because you fool! This will provoke them to travel south, away from here and buy more time.” “ More time for what M’lord?” “ If brains was food, you would have starved before you were born Bashel! Just carry out your orders! Oh yes, and bring me that Unicorn’s Horn!” The Orc ran out of the room in haste, followed by the goblin. There was a creaking sound as a large door opened behind Malice’s chair; a tall, muscular form, standing nearly twelve feet high and black as night stood Nabulous Le’Critious. He was covered from head to tail with sleek scales and a pair of darkly, florescent colored, wings wrapped around him like a cloak. Nab walked into the room behind Malice, not waiting for Malice to turn around he spoke, “ I’m assuming the news is not what you were wanting to hear. Judging by the crushed form of a substandard mortal lying beneath your paw. Tell me Malice what’s the news that scouts were not supposed to bring back?” Malice turned around and licked his fingers of the remaining Kobold. “There has been a spotting of woodlanders coming this way My Lord. The group has slain three or more squads of orcs already, and they have continued to travel due north of their position. Twas a lil’ ole pack of, what was said to be, only twelve.” Nab laughed hysterically, cocking his head back, then turned to Malice. With ferocious speed and extreme agility Nab was in front of Malice. “This is what you have become!? Oh Lord Malice, the tyrannical red dragon, which has done nothing but destroy, pillage, and fight swarms of armies all his life, has become frightened? You’re just as worthless as those primitive orcs if you’re scared of a few woodlanders!” Nab whirled around and began walking towards his quarters. “ Oh?” Malice turned his head to the walking demon. “ They say that the woodlanders have the winged boy that you dream about.” This remark hit Nabulous like a bullet to the heart. Nab stopped and twirled around again; his bird like claws screeched against the rock floor. “ Where Malice!? Where are these woodlanders exactly!?” “ On the south stretch Lord, merely a week’s travel from here. I have already sent three squads to push them south off the river. “ “ What!? Why would you do that!?” Nabulous was literally hopping with rage, while Malice stayed completely calm. “To allow us more time your lordship.” “ Why do you need more time? Let them come, and meet our army on our ground! There hasn’t been an army in all the land that could stand up against us, let alone a pack of twelve measly woodlanders!” “ Because, if we were to allow them in to our realm, then they would know where we are located, we wouldn’t want to risk anything. The twelve woodlanders could just be a scouting team Milord. Besides, in a week one of my greatest creations will come to life.” “Now you’re talking in riddles. I don’t have the patience to listen to dragons talking about something they do not know; as well as a dragon that hasn’t created a single item in over a century. What is this great creation that you speak of?” “ You will see Milord, I can not tell you for its own protection but I promise you that when it comes time you will see.” “You better hope so Malice, I do not wait long. “ The Demon walked off and into his quarters. Malice shook his head disgruntled, he had waited seven hundred years for this moment, and he was not going to mess it up. Oh the look on Nabulous’s face when he finds that Malice had made a nest of eggs hidden well within the catacombs of the mountain. Over three scores of draconians lay in unconscious slumber beneath the safe walls of their eggs. Malice would wait till all of them grew to substantial proportions and then take over Mount Komodo for himself! After catching their breath, Deimoss and Lore were startled by Kipshaw’s panicked approach. “I can not find Cleo or Dimitri anywhere!” Lore stood up, still exhausted from the fight, followed by Deimoss “ Where did ye’ check so far?” “ All abouts Lore, it gets a lil hazy near the bushes by the shore because there’s so many tracks in the mud as it is.” Deimoss began walking towards the bushes “ Where ye’ be goin’ there Deimoss?” “To find outs where the lil’ rapscallions ran off to” “All right, Kip I needs yer to check the tracks by the rope wheels, see if any of ‘em is the boys’. Deimoss check the bushes, Hilf, Chip, you two go with Deimoss. The rest of ye’ comb the forest edges for ‘em, they couldn’t have gone too far.” The party went in different directions, checking every rock, stone, tree, and every patch of grass and mud for footprints. Lore found a trail of one of the boys and began following its zigzagged path. “This un must be Dimitri’s! Looks like he got in a lil’ scrap with the squad leader here, slew the beast straight threw! Dimitri’s alive some where’s men, keep yer eyes peeled and your ears tipped for ‘em.” Lore began following in pursuit of Dimitri’s tracks until he almost ran face to face with Kip who was checking tracks near the rope wheels. Deimoss found both sets of footprints heading towards the river, and after while, Lore’s tracks ran into them, reassuring the crew that the boys were alive. “ Looks over heres Lore” Hilf pointed at a set of tracks. Lore looked them over with a look of fret. “Werebear! Them boys are being chased by a flippin’ werebear! No wonders why they ran off!” “C’mon! The less time we waste cackling like a bunch of seagulls, the more time we have to track ‘em. Tis goin t’be getting arounds dark soon so we best hurry!” Deimoss was already wading across the river when Lore and the others followed. Deimoss crawled upon the deck of the boat and then helped Lore and the others on board. “Grab all of ye’ belongings, and the rations. We’re goin’ have to leave this craft behind fer now.” Lore looked about the deck. “ Looks to me like the boys were here, look hows the small packs be strung all abouts, and look! Look mates! The bloody Unicorn horn is missing!” Running through the forest hastily the two boys ran; being tracked fiercely by the werebear. Dimitri looked back as he was running, being able to see the form of a large bear leaping into areas where they had just been. “He be getting closer Cleo!” “Dun look back mate! We needs to lose ‘im somehow!”. The duo dashed through a marshy swamp, their feet sank in the mossy-like sponge of muddy terrain.Cleo could see a fork I nthe light trail ahead. “Alright mates, at this next fork up here ye’ go left while I’s go right. Wells join back up at the fork that follows this ‘un!” “Sounds good mates, goo’ luck to yer!” A light clearing came after a large grayish patch of bushes and the two young adventures split up. The werebear took a direct right to cut off his prey. Leaping completely over the patch of bushes and slamming to the ground, merely knocking Cleo a full two body lengths forward. Cleo rolled then slid across the muddy surface like a rag doll across ice. The bear leaped high in the air, pouncing at Cleo. With instinct taking over, Cleo raised the unicorn horn in defense to stop of the diving beast. Cleo shut his eyes as he felt the impact of the bear upon the unicorn horn. There was a flash of fluorescent blue and white light and an agonizing scream, but oddly enough no true impact of weight had hit him. Cleo opened his eyes, face to face with a bloody form of a extremely hairy man. Blood trickled down from the man’s mouth as he rolled off of Cleo. The unicorn horn still protruded from the man’s chest and fluorescent blue light still flickered from the man’s eyes like a mine lantern. Cleo watched in amazement as the beast that once was a bear now had transformed before his eyes into a man. Cleo reached over and pulled the unicorn horn out of the gasping man’s chest. Both Cleo and Dimitri watched the man regain consciousness, along with his breath. Cleo looked down at the unicorn horn in amazement, the blood that was trickling down the horn had turned into veins of silver along the twists of the horn. Suddenly the man leaped to his feet. “Wha who ? where ? What in blood’s name is going on! Where’d they go?! Who are ye’?” Dimitri brandished the saber he was holding and pointed it at the man. “Steady there feller, no big moves! Ye’ gots some explaining to do!” “I gots sum ? yer the ones tying me up knocking me out and dragging me out here in these woods dressed in rags! Ugh me flippin’ stomache aches!” Cleo stood up in astonishment “ What!? No! No sir ye was a bear a moment ago, ye was tracking us! None of us tied ye up.” “Oh yea ye did ! yew and that whole pack of Orcs and …. And that dragon! Tha… that confounded dragon er …. What was it ? Malice! Malice was his name!” Dimitri quirked his brow in confusion “What? Sir ye was a blibbering bear! Believe if or not but look fer yerself sir, all ye tracks ‘round here is bear tracks, even the ones yer feet are in now!” The man looked around and then looked at his own bare feet, which were standing directly in a set of massive bear tracks. The entire area where he was laying was pushed down in the mud in a form of a bear. His eyes widened in confusion as reality hit him. “Ye’ means to tell me that I’s was a bear? And I was trackin’ ye?” “Aye ye was sir” Cleo knodded as he spoke “ Ye was some weird mutant bear, ye chased us away from our camp and tried to kill us!” The man looked around, then looked back down at the two young swordsmen and grinned. “ Well since I’s didn’t introduce meself I guess I will now. The name be Kessel, Mercenary Of the Red Knights Also know as MORK. Hero of the helpless, foe of the orcs, crusher of kobolds, grabber of the goblins and -“ “Nice to meet ye Kessel but ye mind shutting yer blabbering chops, we’s might still be being followed by kobolds.” Cleo had to turn his face so Kessel couldn’t see him chuckle after Dimitri had yelled at him. “Kobolds do ye’ say mate? Gimme a sword mates I’ll slew ‘em true and through! Doncha know I am the crusher of kobolds!” “Yes well ye’ mind moving yer kdobold crushing self so we’s can become fleerers of hordes?” It tooks some urging but finally Cleo and Dimitri got Kessel to travel with them. Kessel mumbled and grumbled beneath his breathe “In all me years I never retreated from an enemy! Ahh I’s guess I should watch ye lil fellers tho’ that’s the duty of the MORK doncha know! So where too sirs?” “We needs to find somewhere where we can camp Kessel, and this marsh is not the safest looking place.” “I reckon Tis not sires! We’d be best keep marchin’ until we can hits dry la-“ “ Shh! Cleo did you hear that?” Cleo’s ears perked up, there was the clanking of metal off in the distance. Kessel, though human looking had elf like ears, and some relevant elf features, stood up upon a small, knee high rock and listened to the sounds. “Tis sounds of battle! Off in the distance sirs!” Cleo looked at Dimitri “ For a loud mouth he sure is right tho’ mate that sounds ‘bout right fer me!” “Righto me messmates! Tis our duties to go attend this here battle up ahead and aid the defenders! Follow on young ‘uns” Kessel began marching through the overhanging grass and bushes, his foot prints dotted through the muddy marsh like a set of sponges. . Dimitri looked over at Cleo with annoyance “Ye’ should of kilt ‘im when ye’ had the chance, now he’s gunna get us killed!” Cleo grinned and made a believable mockery of Kessel “Hurry on sir! We’s got a duty to perform doncha know!” The three travelers ran through the marsh following the sounds of the fighting. They had come to a break in the marsh land where the ground was hard, the fighting could be heard just through the up coming bushes. Dimitri tugged on Kessel’s torn up shirt “ Here! Take this, Tisn’t much but it’s all I’s got fer now” Dimitri had handed Kessel his dirk. Kessel looked down at Dimitri with a grin of admiration “Very good show mate! I’s be remembering ye’ thoughtfulness of sending a companion out with arms Now let’s go in there and show these rabble rousers what good fer ‘em eh?” Both Dimitri and Cleo’s answers were in unison “Aye!”. Meek and his party had been trekking back through the marshes toward there mountain side dwellings when they had run into a pack of orcs. The crew was surrounded and outnumbered but they held themselves off for all that they were worth. Meek’s battle axe sliced and diced orcs like a hot knife through butter, but the grotesque size of the orcs were overwhelming. The nine surviving dwarves had been fighting since they had left Lore and his crew on the bank. Worn and tired they strived on to battle each of the orcs to the death. Meek swung his axe at an orc furiously. The orc ducked the blow, causing Meek to stumble forward, trip, and fall to the moist ground. The second he looked up the orc was upon him, wielding it’s cleaver high above, getting ready to make a deathly blow. “Thwunk!” A large dirk stuck in the back of the orc and sent it sprawling forward dead as a doornail. A voice boomed out over the crowd of orcs. “ Desist at onces! Ye’ blibbering orcs are surround by the Mercenaries of the Red Knights! Remove yerselves from yer position upon those Dwarves…..NOW!” The orcs looked around confused, a large orc hollered back to the bushes. “I am sungrail! Captain of the Great Hordes of Mount Komodo. Servant to Lord Nabulous Le’Critious! Show yerselves or I will deal with ye the same way I am dealing with these pathetic dwarves!” “How ‘bouts this orc, I’s will send out me best fighter. If ye lose then ye’ will remove yerselves and yer ugly mugs away from this here marsh!” The orc cocked his head back in laughter. “Ye’ wish to challenge me? Anyone who challenges me is challenging the wrath of Nabulous Le’critious!” “Bahh yer old lord Nabowatsit isn’t here now is he! So tis up to ye to defend his name isn’t it Orc!” Sungrail stepped off of Meek, the rest of the orcs crowded around as he yelled back. “Tis a deal! Now show this almighty fighter ye’ gots out there!” Dimitri slid Kessel his saber. “Ye’ better be as good of a fighter as ye’ say ye’ are old matey. Otherwise we be plum out of luck!” “ Dun worry ‘bouts me lads, just afterwards throw some stones at ‘em to make ‘em think there’s more then two of ye’ out here!” “Right, we unnerstand Kessel. Goo’ luck to yer!” Kessel stepped out of the cover, opposite side of the direction the orc was facing at. “Hey slobber chops! O’er here sir!” The orcs whirled around and stared at Kessel long enough to laugh. “Ye’ mean to tell me that yer crew’s best fighter is a bloody half elf? Haaahaaahahahahaha!” The orcs laughed uncontrollably. Kessel walked forward confidently. “Ahh so you sir are the one responsible for all this here non sense, are you not?” Meek and his crew were watching in amazement as Kessel’s slim form walked into the circle of barbaric orcs. Sungrail pulled an old warblade off of his back that resembled a large cleaver with a solid steal handle and a brass guard. Sungrail looked down the blade at Kessel. “Yes, and what do yer expect to do ‘bout it Half elf? Shine my shoes?” “Sir I expect you to acknowledge yer word sir! If … er … when ye’ lose to me I expect yer pack of fleabitten orcs to rid yerselves of this forest. C’mon sir yer stench is killing the foliage! I saw a large season oak dye just by the foul scents that yer pack has produced! Not to mention ye’ be intruding on the dwarves here sir!” Sungrail didn’t hesitate to talk, he swung his might blade violently at Kessel. Kessel ducked Sungrail’s haymaker and slammed his shoulder into the orc’s gut. Sungrail stumbled and tumbled completely over Kessel’s back and landed flat on his back on the moist ground. Kessel stood back and laughed. “Do yer give up yet sir? Or does thou wish to continue sir?” “I’m going to skin yew alive when I gets me hands on you Half elf!” “Thwack!” Kessel smacked Sungrail hard across his face with the flat end of his saber. Sungrail stumbled back a step; blood trickled out of the corner of his mouth. “Yoof fill bay fo’ dat hafween!” Sungrail swung his mighty warblade again, this time chopping at a downward angle. Kessel spun back, skillfully missing the chaotic orc’s blade. “Sir, if ye’ do not mind me askin’ but er…. Why are ye’ talking like that for sir? Saber got yer tongue? Hawhaw! I make meself laugh sometime” “Whoosh!” The warblade sizzled through the air as Kessel ducked. This time Kessel kicked the orc in the stomach and sent him hurtling over. “Sir anytime ye’ wants to quit, just leave. Tis not much work fer me to boot ye’ ‘round like this. But I was wondering if ye’ was in need of a breath?” The orc stood up panting and whipping blood off of his mouth. “You’re going to hate your mom for giving birth to you after this fight is over Half elf!” “HaHa! I could of removed your soul from yer bag of bones ten terms ago, Tis I was just being nice. I could of killed yer miserable form with out trying! see! ONE TWO THREE FOUR!” Kessel jabbed Sungrail hard in the chest with the tip of his saber each time he counted. Sungrail had to take a step back. Kessel laughed “ Hopefully we will be able to do this again when thou is a skillful fighter! G’day sir and Good riddens!” Kessel whirled around, allowing his back to show to the enraged orc. Sungrail couldn’t help his window of opportunity and he charged forward. Kessel didn’t have enough time to turn, so he dropped to the ground and allowed the orc to stumble over him. The moment the orc hit the ground Kessel’s saber found it’s mark in Sungrail’s chest. “Ye’ do not learn do ye’ sir! Now ye’ do not have a life! Now off with the rest of ye villains or I will be forced to have the rest of me party kill ye’!….” The party of orcs looked hesitant but they did not fall back until a volley of rocks and stones tumbled down on them from the bushes all around them. The orcs were being pelted from all sides and faced with a mob of angry dwarves that were aching for vengeance. Meek could see the orcs were trembling in their boots and only needed a second urging to make them run, he raised his war axe and shouted as he took a step forward. “Move yerselves ……NOW!” Kessel watched the party of orcs retreat in the bushes of the marsh. One orc turned around as he walking off and pointed his axe at Meek “Ye’ will pay fer this later when ye’s not hiding behind an army…..ooophF!” A rock hit him in the face from within the bushes. The dwarves were seething with anger. Kessel walked forward and patted Meek on the shoulder. “G’d show mate! Gallant fightin’ doncha know!” Meek spun back on instinctual reaction, still livid from the battle. “Ye bloody half elf prolly just started a flippin’ war!”. Kessel looked puzzled “What?! I merely helped ye’ out while ye were being attacked! Either way sir those orcs will come back no matter who or what has beat’n them!” Another rather large dwarf shouted “He be right Meek. He didn’t start the foight he merely ended it for ‘s” Meek was now the one who looked insulted, he turned and pointed his muscular hand at the Dwarf “Ye kep yer trap shut Broo! This ain none of ye’ business!” “Tis moi business when moi’s life involved!” A few of the other dwarves began nodding. Meek could see a larger problem was going to erupt if he didn’t deal with it so he hollered back at the rest of the crew in a more considerable voice. “Look all of ye’s! We all knows that the orcs are planning something extreme for they never come down here as much as we’ve seen ‘em in the last few sunsets! If we hide in our mountain theys will have to leave and that’s when we can live in peace again. Just fer a few days mates, a few days to allow the orc horde to move along and find somewhere else to go!” “Cowards!” Kessel shouted harshly at Meek. Meek’s face creased with an angry snarl. “What did ye’ call me?” “Yew sir, are a coward. A coward who chooses to hide under a rock and allow the enemy to go somewhere else and kill other innocent people! As long as the people they enslave are not yers tis fine am I right sir?” Meek reached forward and grabbed Kessel. Kessel’s face didn’t change nor was he impressed with the angry dwarf. Meek’s voice was cold, quiet and extremely sharp. “Fine half elf ye’s dun think we can not hold our own? Ha! I’s be proven it to ye’ ! Me entire mountain is filled with dwarves. By tomorrer we’s will march the plains and the forest and rid this here area of orcs if ye’ dun believe me!” “I’s was thinkings that ye was gun to hide in yer mountain?” “Ye’ well ye thought wrong half elf! C’mon men let’s head back to our home!” So the party marched off. Broo approached Kessel and patted him on the back. “Ye’ mer then welcum to bring ye’ and yer men to ‘er mountain.” Kessel grinned and shouted at the bushes “All right me mates ye’ can come out from yer hiding!” Cleo and Dimitri’s small forms came out of the bushes on either side of Kessel and the dwarven party. The dwarven party lit up in laughter. “Hoho! Look it that! This here half elf just tricked the orcs with two lil’ ‘uns!” Meek looked back at Cleo and recognized him from earlier. He walked over to Cleo “Didn’t we’s see each other earlier? Ye’s know Lore dun ye’?” “Ye..Yes sir.” “Why’s ye’ o’er here?” “Lore and I gots split up in the fight” “Fight? Which fight?” “Kobolds hitted us hard and Dimitri and I’s had to make a run fer it” Meek looked around in panic as if looking to run. “Where?!” “Down near where’s ye’ left ‘em” Meek looked around at his dwarves. “Lore and his party be running into a party of Kobolds jus lek I said mates. ‘sept they must be be’n hitt’n hard mates ‘cuz some of their party has fled. So that means that raiding party is close men! We needs to move out and go pack up! We leave at dawn!” Kessel, who was walking Broo, a dwarf, looked in awkward confusion as he watched Meek speed up the party. “Bit o’centric ain’t he? Blighter’s gonna have a hert bother actin’ like that doncha know.” The party walked throughout the grayish marshland in the valley between mountains until they came up to a colossus sized red rock mountain. A large crystal waterfall poured water off the top of the mountain down on a river in front of the mountain. The river protected the front as if it were a natural moat. “Welcum me mates… To Mount Homage. Found her sittin’ here jus’ askin’ to be a home. Endless water supplies, and we’s even got space to plant on top of ‘er.” Kessel, Dimitri, and Cleo gazed at the awe-inspiring mountain face, which was more or less like a cliff face. Kessel looked down at Cleo and raised both brows in amazement. “By the shock! Cleo sir! Ye’s got a flippin’ Unicorn horn doncha know!” Meek looked back at Cleo. “Ye’s got a unicorn horn?!” Cleo, who was looking a bit sheepish from all the sudden attention just grinned and nodded. Dimitri shouted at Kessel and laughed.“O’ course he does! He flippin’ got ye’ out o’yer bear suit wit’ it if ye’s dun remember!” “Cleo lad. This is a very impressive tool. Ye’s can definitely deal pain upon evil with this if ye’s dint know.” Meek walked forward and looked down at Cleo. “If I could get me hands on that I’s could definitely make her a weapon to be feared by those orcs! By the rights I’s could!” Meek looked over the horn like a child with a new toy. Cleo looked up at Meek. “Ye’ could?” “Certainly” “I’s assuming I’s would get it back?” “O’ course! The horn wouldn’t work fer me Cleo. Tis yer horn. Tis won’t werk fer anyone but yerself.” “Really?!” “Aye lad!” “Aye Cleo” Kessel interrupted “I’s would be obliged to show yer’s how use that wepon mates. We’ll turn ye’ into a first class orc slayer by morn doncha know!” The party walked to the mountain and watched as a large door was raised on the mountain face. The door was counter-balanced with a drawbridge that came down to allow the party to cross the raging river. The party walked inside the mountain door. The tunnels inside the mountain were damp and smelled like moss and algae. Inside the mountain there was levels upon levels, like shelves, with dwarves packed on every floor. The overwhelming sound of hammers upon steel and the bright orange light of forges and red-hot steel lit the floors. The entire mountain was hollowed in a spiral shelf pattern. A person could stand directly in the middle of the mountain and could stare upwards and see almost twenty stories high in the mountain. The middle bottom room was the mess hall. Large solid stone tables lined with solid mortar benches sat in rows in the middle of the room. Cleo estimated there must have been thirty or more tables.” This truly was a massive dwarf stronghold” Cleo thought to himself. It was near dusk in the moss filled forest that surrounded the winger camp. The winger camp was secluded under the cover of more then a dozen willow trees. Scrate, the winger camp’s chieftain, perched himself on a drooping willow tree branch breathing in deeply the cool moist air of the forest. Scrate was about to attend a council of war with his tribe. Just earlier that day a horde of orcs had been seen near the northern rose creek’s banks. The orcs and the wingers had faced each other in a stand off for almost two full days until the wingers couldn’t fight anymore. They flew back to their camp exhausted and battle worn, but they had plans to retaliate against the orc horde again. Scrate knew his tribe didn’t have the numbers that the orc horde did, but he knew his tribe had more intelligence then twice that number of orcs and that was an advantage. “Scrate, it’s time my friend.” Another winger named Wedness said to Scrate. Wedness was a council member for as long as she could remember. Ever since her father had passed away when she was young, she had knowledge that far exceeded her age and she was extremely logical. Scrate, who was drifting in thought, broke out of his cloud of thoughts and turned back to Wedness. “Perhaps we could call for support amongst the Tobeskis. .. Their tribe and ours have had an alliance since the beginning of time and they’re good fighters and valiant flyers.” “Let us discuss this with the entire tribe. Eighty three heads are worth more then two.” Scrate grinned and patted Wedness on the shoulder. “Very well said. You’re right, let’s go and talk to them.” “They’re already waiting Scrate.” The council was really nothing more then the entire tribe circling a large bonfire. Tribe members sat around the fire, perched in the trees, and some stood while others handed out fresh food. The moment Scrate walked up to them the entire chattering group went silent. Scrate looked at the numerous faces that were on him, all were faces that he had grown up with or had watched and help raise. “Well?” One of the wingers said while chewing on a roasted turkey leg. “The serenity of the forest is endangered men. Orcs, and lots of them, are moving along the river and threatening our way of life. I do not know how to approach this problem with the numbers of fighters that we carry, but I was pondering the thought of calling upon the Tobeskis to assist us in this matter.” “The Tobeskis?! I do not know who to hate more! The orcs or the Tobeskis!” “Aye here here!” “The Tobeskis will lead us to the spirit’s skies if we follow them into battle!” Scrate rubbed his aching forehead in exhaustion as he heard the crowd. “Friends! Quiet!” Wedness drew a wooden mallet and smacked it hard against the rocks that surrounded the fire. The crowd went to silence and centered their attention on Scrate. “Would you rather fight the orcs ourselves? Our little numbers against an entire regiment of orcs that are armed to the teeth in armor and weaponry? Huh? Perhaps you have a better idea? If so I am more then welcoming it!” Scrate waited a moment for the crowd to speak but no one said a word. “The Tobeskis and our tribe have been allies for as long as I can remember. They support us in almost every action we do. They have a readied, disciplined militia to assist us-“ “We….. did” The entire group that surrounded the fire, including Scrate, spun their heads to a large winged figure approaching. Scrate recognized the form almost immediately. “Ulrich?…What are you doing here friend?” “Orcs…. Orcs have ambushed, slaughtered, and enslaved our entire village. They hit us three weeks ago. The horde is led by a Demon. The very same Demon that had attacked our village the day of my son’s birth, you remember him Scrate?” Scrate had to almost swallow his stomach before he nodded. “Yes Ulrich I remember him. Nabulous was his name am I right? He attempted to enslave your village back then and had failed.” “Aye, but he swore on his word that he would come back…and he did. He be’s now leading an army of orcs around the land. I duns even want to think of how many towns and villages he’s plundered.” “What is your plan Ulrich?” “I am here to collect any volunteers that are willing to help me do raid attacks on the orcs. Hit’n’runs is what small numbers can do. We can’t fight the army with numbers but we’s can starve ‘em until their numbers become smaller. That my friends, is my plan. Now I am asking, no …. I am begging anyone who wants to … to help me” Scrate looked back at the group who all looked anxious but did not move. Scrate walked over to Ulrich and held out his hand. “I’s will follow you to the Spirit’s skies or beyond my friend. These orcs need to be stopped and it isn’t going to happen without someone standing up to them.” Ulrich nodded and grinned then looked back at the entire group who were looking at each other in anxiety and question. Finally one winger jumped down from a willow branch and glided in front of Ulrich. “Ulrich my friend. I think the entire party is wondering who will stand up first, you know. Otherwise we will run each other over to stand up.” Ulrich looked past the young winger and over at the group who were mostly smiling. Wedness looked around at the group. “Oh for heaven’s sake! We all are with you Ulrich. Till our feathered wings fall off our backs!” The entire group broke out in shouting. “Aye! Till the spirit skies!” “Make them pay is what I always say!” “Through storm or clouded skies we’re with you!” Ulrich grinned and looked at Scrate, who was nodding in approval. “So how do you plan on doing this Ulrich?” “Simple, this is how…..” It was a long couple of days for the orc regiment. Already Bashel had some substantial losses. But who could of dealt with them in any other fashion? The wingers were experienced fighters and they had flight, which was a substantial advantage. The dwarves would have been slaughtered, despite the orc losses, if they hadn’t been backed by this ‘Mercenaries of the Red Knights’ group’ and the fact that he had allowed Sungrail to lead. Bashel shook his head, Sungrail was a fool he thought, he couldn’t control his temper and it cost the entire platoon. All in all Bashel thought the losses weren’t that bad. He still had two thirds of the regiment, and two out of three wasn’t that bad. He had finally made it to the northern shores of Rose Creek. All he needed now was to push every party back down south until further notice of Malice. As long as Malice could see that he was doing his best at holding the shores and that the one third of the army that was slain were all small losses he was fine. Bashel greased his war bladed axe and sharpened it against a rock. His newfound weapon had been pulled from the hands of a nearby Dwarf hill. “Stupid Dwarf”, Bashel thought, “All he had to do was give up his food and his house, and it wasn’t like the orc horde was threatening his life or anything.” Bashel grinned mischievously and licked the razor sharp edge of the axe while he growled out the last words. “But now he’s dead and I got his axe!” “Bashel sir! Third runner reporting!” Bashel had been waiting for the scout’s return since yesterday’s evening. “Well don’t just sit there panting in yer boots! Tell me! Whats thy news from the south?” “Sir Bashel Sir! On of our boats have been found along the shores down stream.” “And?” “It’s the one that we lost with the unicorn, the beast is still in the boat but the horn is missing sir!” “Anyone around?” “No sir no one’s there, I brought the boat back sir. But there is a trail that we followed in the forest and we found a battle site of one of the local kobold tribes. Looks to me like the kobolds took a beating. I think perhaps that they might have captured the party Sir” “Uuuuuh Huuuuh. Well first off who gave you the right to think?” “No…No one sir.” “Okay second of all, I’s want a raiding party to go down thers. Find that kobold tribe, and one…. Persuade them into joining us and two find out if theys gots any blibbering fighters for captives.” “But sir. What is the kobolds dun wanna join?” “That’s when persuasion comes in you nit wit! Make them wanna join. You know, give them a reason to join, like if they don’t you’ll slaughter them…. Understand?” The other orc thought for a second then his confused face turned into a grin. “Arrh haar! Captain yew sir are a clever dog yew ‘re! I gotcha sir! Will do” “Ok good then Corporal. Dismissed!” Bashel grinned; this was the life he thought. Sitting by a warm campfire while eating roasted turkey, no one else to order him around and all the treasures that his regiment could plunder was at his disposal as he saw fit. He smiled at the thought of him bringing in the winged boy to Nabulous “Oh Bashel! Good job Bashel! Here Bashel be my Colonel Bashel! Do you need anything Bashel ? Malice will get it for you!”. Bashel laughed out loud, “Aye tis the life of a Captain!” Bashel dug his sharp teeth into a roasted turkey leg and ripped a chunk off of it. Chewing slowly and tasting the moist flavor of the bird; all his army had to do was sit on the river banks and become a mobile wall, and he was to become the Mountain’s hero! Bashel Fell asleep near the fire, still dreaming of the day when that winged boy would fall into his grasps. Bashel didn’t even notice the storm clouds beginning to roll in over the army. Mount Komodo was under a wicked downpour of rain. It seemed as a flying lake had begun to pour on them. Deep inside of the Mountain, Malice stood in a hidden chamber taring in admiration at more than three hundred draconians. Each one of the dragon soldiers looked blood thirsty and ready for war the very moment they hatched. “Now…My soldiers, we move tonight!” Malice knew in order to get away from the Mountain he had to act fast while Nabulous was in a torpor-like slumber. He stared at almost a dozen eggs that did not hatch yet. Blasted waste of space, all dead ones he thought. He led the soldiers down the halls of the mountain. Passing by orcs and pushing them out of the way in haste, Malice made it to one of the dozen exits of the mountain. Orcs stared in amazement at the giant sized soldiers that nearly doubled the height of any of them, marched by. The draconians made no sound and no eye contact, just marched in extreme military fashion and out of the mountain and into flight despite the murderous pour of the torrential rain. Malice looked back at the mountain and the horde of orcs; knowing that this was not the last time he would see this mountain, but that this was the last time he would see it without ruling it! Malice’s huge form flew into the sky like a giant owl. His massive wings swooped through the rain filled skies. Following Malice were more than three hundred draconian flyers that seemed as if they had no trouble at all flying through battering down pour. At the winger camp the group had just thought out a plan. Scrate and his tribe, and Ulrich and his few followers, met the dark sky in haste. They had to reach the river before dawn in order to make their first advance. They flew on into the windy night until they had become battered and beaten with theintense, callous rain. Ulrich decided to land the party until the rain had lightened. Every winger was armed to the teeth with their traditional battle blades. A three foot long quarter staff with a two edged hook on one side and a foot long spike on the other was the tribes traditional battle weapon of choice. The party landed like a flock of crows, perching all over the trees. “What now Ulrich?” “We need to try to stay dry, here go gather a couple people and see if we can’t make a lean-to out of these birch trees. Until then perhaps we can just hide under some pines.” “I was thinking we could just wait it out under the pines until the rain slowed ands go back into flight. The sky seems to be falling with this storm!” “Yes I know Scrate!” As the rain got harder with the murderous winds, the two had to shout at each other just to hear one another. Over the shrill whistling of the winds a soft alien whooshing began to fill the sky. Ulrich looked out of the cover and into the rain filled sky. Despite the raindrops battering his face Ulrich couldn’t see anything until in a blink of an eye a goliath-sized dragon flew overhead. Ulrich’s mouth gasped open wide at the sight of the beast. The entire winger party watched in horror as a numerous amount of draconians flew behind the dragon. The dragons were flying high enough that they couldn’t hear the gasps of terror from the hidden party. After the flying dragon army had past the winger tribe, the tribe sat in silence and in shock catching their breath and organizing their thoughts. “Did you see that?!” “Yes I did Scrate. Looks to me that they were heading due south” “What do you propose we do?” “What do I propose? Haa! I propose we continue on with our plan. The rain is slowing down so let’s get moving shall we?” “Right friend, let’s!” The winger party waited a short while until they were sure that the dragons were out of sight, then set out in flight in the hurricane-force winds. Almost three days passed and Deimoss and Lore hadn’t seen any sign of Cleo or Dimitri. They had followed their trail through a marsh until they came to what looked like a battlefield. Over a score of orcs were dead along with more then a dozen dwarves. It was almost impossible to track which party went where since both the orcs and the dwarves fled in the same direction. Deciphering which feet were dwarven and which feet were orcs was also a mystery. Since the mud and the marsh had retarded the footprints to such an extent that even Lore, who was an expert tracker, couldn’t decide which was which. The party followed the trail through the bramble bushes and the swampy mud until the two sets of tracks split up. “Looks to me mates that we’s got us a decision to do.” “Aye Lore indeed we’s do” “Here, we split up. One group follows these tracks and the other follows these here tracks. Now it looks to me like these go ‘round this here mountain face and these other ones go directly towards that there river Ye’ see?” “Aye. Buts where do we’s meet ‘gain mate?” “If I’s am corrects we be in near Summers Waterway. If I’s am corrects then well… There should be a Halfling village somewheres o’er these mountains not too fars from where we be!” “Aye, so if ye’ ares correct then we meets there. But whats if yer wrongs?” “Then we meets two mountains down, due south” “Sounds good mates, let’s get moving. Looks to me like we’s got a storm on our backs, and a big’un too.” “Aye. Chip, Hilf, Groil, Whisp with Deimoss., Kip and the rest of Ye’ come with me.” “Aye Lore, dun try to be brave mates. If ye’ runs into thems orcs Ye’ elude and leave!” “Aye will do mates! Ye’ do the same yerself!” “Right, let’s move. See ye’ in a mountain or two!” Deimoss’s group set off, disappearing in the high grass and low tree cover. Lore followed a set of tracks all the way to a Colossal sized Mountain, with an extremely fast running river in front of it. The rocky edged river hugged up against the cliff side like a snake strangling it’s prey. “Looks to me mates like the party eithers set off on rafts or they disappeared in these here rocks somewheres” “Aye sure does Lore, me guess is they set to the water ways” “Aye, let’s sees here if we can get across the river, perhaps they may have prints on the bank on the other side, if they’s dun then we’s know they went down river.” “Right-o Mates, let’s rig up some sort of a crossing” The light from the sun was fading fast beneath the dark clouds. A grey aroma covered the land like a blanket that was soon followed by gusts of winds. The weather seemed to change faster then a thought when Lore’s party wasn’t even finished rigging a crossing line when the rain began. Deimoss’s party was tromping through the marshy-muck seemed to be getting more solid. In one way this was easier for Deimoss and his party to walk, but the tracks became slightly harder to follow. The winds picked up expeditiously and began pouring down massive onslaughts of torrential rain. The head high grass seemed to bow against the gale force windy storm. Deimoss and his crew had to literally hold on to every belonging on them so it wouldn’t blow away. Deimoss marched his party on through the marsh until the swampy ground had completely depleted. After they had left the marsh they hastily marched over a high rock face and hid from the mammoth force airstreams. Staring down the rock face was like staring at a whole new world. A huge valley lined with overgrowing trees scattered the basin like fence posts. Maple, Birch, Oak, and Aspen trees covered the valley. Their branches seemed to reach for help against the hurricane force winds. Swirls of multicolored fall leaves blanketed the valley like a gigantic flock of birds. Deimoss and his crew laid against the rock face in an attempt to escape the force of the winds. While the sky continued to pour bucketfuls of water on them with each breath they took. Deimoss squinted his eyes against the rain, staring off into the blur of trees and leaves throughout the valley. Rain poured off his face like a small waterfall, trickling down his eyebrows and across his face like a small stream. Down I nthe valley Deimoss spotted a group of weather battered figures running too and fro amongst the chaos of the trees. “There’s someone down there mates!” Deimoss had to shout against the violent storm in order to hear his own voice. “What!?” “Someone is down there!” “Ye’ wants to go down there!? Are ye’ flippin’ out of yer mind!?” “No! there’ be someone down there!!” “Where!?” Deimoss pointed across the valley at a large group of people off in the distance. The group seemed to be chasing a pile of tent canvasses through the winds. “Right! Les head down ther!” Deimoss and the others treaded down the steep rock face while still being battered by the torrential storm. Marching through the trees until they could clearly see the party. The leaves seemed to create a sheet of battering shells. Each one of them seemed to create small cuts and gashes across the crew’s faces. The party was a rather large group of half elves. One of them stopped chasing the canvasses and looked over at Deimoss and his group. Amongst the pounding rain and colossus force winds the half elf smiled and waved and began approaching Deimoss. “What Ho Sir! Lovely weather for ducks doncha knows!” Deimoss laughed heartedly “Aye mates indeed it is!” “What bring ye’ here to this neck of the woods sir?!” “We be’s lookin’ for a small winged boy by the name of Cleo have ye’ seen ‘im?!” The half elf shook his head “Nay sir, no sign of a flying boy sir! But you sir and I are in the same boat. We are looking for a lost member of our party to, perhaps you have ran into a blighter by the name of Kessel?!” “No can’t says that I have mates!” “Right! By marks! I forgots to introduce my self doncha know! Name is Nokkel! And that rather large fellow there chasin’ the covers is my brother Brutas. Strong fellow he is doncha know!” “Aye I’s sure he is mates. Say! Let’s see if we’s can get a place out of this here rain so I can hear meself think!” “Rightly said sir doncha know!” One of the half elves was holding a canvass that he caught. The canvass seemed to be trying to squirm out of his arms due to the torrential winds. “Two canvasses left Nokkel! What do ye’ say we let the winds have at them sir?” “Might as well Brog, seems like the storm is just taunting us. Gather the men sir, and let’s get out of this here rains!” “Rightly said Nokkel sir! Aye aye!” The two parties gathered themselves and began marching across the windy valley. The rain continued to pound on them as if it were attempting to drown the party. Sloshing through almost knee-high water the party finally trudged to the end of the valley and up on a rock bed flank adjacent from the leaf-swarming dale. Chapter 12 Bashel had the rudest awakening of his career. Within seconds his nap was interrupted by what seemed like the sky falling on him and his army. Tents were ripped from the ground by the invisible hands of squally winds. It was almost as if a waterfall was pouring on his regiment. Haversacks, ration packs, and tents and canvasses were torn away from the grasps of the startled, half asleep, orc soldiers. The army fought for cover under the little cover they had managed to hold onto. Bashel’s tent had been torn away before he had even awakened. It was dark, cold, wet, and extremely windy. All the orcs could do was fight out the rain and the extreme winds. Meanwhile, further down river, Bashel’s raiding party, led by a tall slim orc named Froggel, battled against the down pour like there was no tomorrow. Froggel’s party attempted numerous times to keep marching but there was no use. The sheets of rain were so thick that a knife couldn’t even cut through them. The party hid for cover underneath pine trees, logs, small tents, and even each other. The winds seemed to tear through their clothing and tried to freeze them alive. Lore and his men were beaten by the hurricane winds, and paralyzed by the pounding rain that didn’t seem to allow them to even take a breath. They had followed the river around the bend of the mountain until it came to a waterfall that shot off the yet another cliff face. Lore stared down the waterfall and through the curtain of blistering rain. He could see some kind of shelter or posts protruding out of the cliff. It was nonsense to think that the posts were put there naturally, judging by the black chains that hung from the posts and snaked their way into the mountain side. Even the heavy steel chains seemed to try to escape the winds, they rattled and clanked against each other in a panic-like fashion. “We needs to get down ther!” “Whaut!? Are ye’ crazy Lore?! The drop is prolly more then a hunnerd feet!” “Aye Tis! ‘n we’s got more thens enough rope to get us down ther!” The elven party gathered together all their rope and began tying it together, still being beaten by the flooding skies. Lore looked down the cliff face that seemed to disappear beneath the sheets of the chilling shower. He estimated the length and then handed one end to Kipshaw and the other he rapped around himself. “Tie this somewhere’s” Kip could barely hear Lore but she knew what he meant so she nodded and tied the rope around an apple tree on top of the mountain. All eyes were upon Lore as he backed himself to the cliff face. He looked back at the group, whom were all holding the rope so it wouldn’t slip down the wet rock face. With a slight grin he yelled, “O’right mates, let’s get this started!” and with that he stepped off the cliff face. The party felt the tension of the rope, along with the weight of Lore, and slowly slid him down. Groaning from rope burn each of the party knew that if they were to release the rope it would mean a disastrous ending for Lore. Slowly but surely Lore slid down the mountain, he stared at the rock face and at the waterfall that wasn’t much more then three lengths away from him. The mist of the waterfall stung against his face; mixed with the chilling rains and the torrential winds that seemed to jerk him around in mid-air like he was a windsock. He arrived suddenly at a window that unexpectedly opened and a dwarven armed guard peered out at him. Through his astonishment Lore smiled as he descended by the window that was carved skillfully into the mountain rock face. “Greetings matey! You wouldn’t happen to know if ye’ could open a door and let a few elves in could ye’?” The dwarf stared at the drenched form of Lore as he floated downward on a rope. The dwarf let out a rather hearty laugh! “Ho and wher’s ye’ come from elf?” “From above ye’ but I’m afraid I’s can’t hang around up here mates but if ye’ would get someone to open yer door I’s be more then willing to explain to ye’ everything.” The dwarven guard nodded then rang on a bell while shouting in a heavy voice. “Meek! We’s got visitors sir! Open up the wall!” Lore rolled his eyes, all of the dwarves that he could of found he had to find Meek. In moments a massive door opened up directly out of the mountain face and dropped down to create a drawbridge of solid stone. Lore continued downwards hanging from his rope and still being beaten by the rain. He looked up and could see the next elf already starting down the rope. Lore reached the ground and walked over to the skillfully crafted rock bridge. Meek walked out on the bridge and stared at Lore. Lore grinned ear-pointy ear as he approached Meek. “Whatho Meek! How ye’ be?” “I’s be a lot less tested if I didn’t keep running into ye’ an’ yer men!” “Haa! I’s would have been out o’ yer grey hairs days ago if ye’ wouldn’t of hung me boat!” Meek laughed heartedly “Hohohoho! I’s heard ye’ found thems kobolds! Ye’ say hi to ‘em fer me?” With the winds mixing with the heavy rain it seemed like the rain came on the mountain in a pattern of waves. After some time all of the elves had made it down the rope safely. Meek looked at the group of elves with concern. Lost a few friends I see, must’ve been one mighty crew of kobolds eh?” Lore looked at his group of five elves and paused before he laughed. “Haa! We’s split up. Half of our party is somewhere nears here, ‘bout a mountain o’er by nows. We be’s lookin’ for our winged friend. Goes by the name of Cleo, ye’ happened to see ‘em? He’s with me son Dimitri.” Meek shrugged and nodded, as if sorry he ever did meet them. “Aye, there here. Found ‘em with a blighter by the name of Kessel. He’s some mercury, whole lots of trouble he is!” “Ye’ found ‘em?! Well I’s be guessin Ye’ dwarves are good for something other then hidin’ in holes and hangin’ boats!” “Get inside Will ye’! Ye’ lettin’ all the heat out! I’s’ll show ‘em too yer. They’re sleepin’ at the moment buts whens we make some food Ye’ll get a chance.” Lore looked at Meek with a soft smile. “Thanks Meek. I appreciate it. Under all of those warts and that god awful hairy ugly face. Ye’ actually aren’t that bad of a mate… Mate.” “Thanks Lore…….I guess….Mate” “Any’s time matey. Les go inside I’m freezin’ and famished.” Chapter 13 Deimoss and Nokkel and the rest of the parties had marched over an entire mountain before setting camp. It was dark and the storm had begun to finally let off some. Although still breezy and cold, the raining had settled to a minimum and allowed the travelers to start a small fire. They were camped on the peak of a large slope; one of the many rolling-hills that trailed the rocky and treacherous mountains. They stared off at a large valley; the valley seemed to go for miles. Deimoss was beginning to get nervous; there wasn’t any sign of Lore anywhere. He paced back and forth through the camp, staring off into the dark forest. What if Lore and his party wre intercepted by the orcs? What if they were killed? What else would keep Lore from getting to the meeting place, all these thoughts raced through Deimoss’s brain. He kept pacing nervously back and forth. “No sign of ‘em yet sir! We’s still be keeping our eyes peeled tho’ doncha know that’s what the mercenaries of the red knights are for doncha know!” Deimoss looked over at Nokkel, who was peering through a wrapped sheet of leather with a pair of lenses on it. “What is that contraption ye’ got there mate?” “Oh this?” Nokkel held out the tube of leather. “This Sir, is a contraption called a telescope sir! Makes a sentry’s job easier doncha know! I’s can see ten times farther with this little companion of mine then me own eyes could possibly imagine!” “Well I’s be darn! Can ye’ see ‘em?” “Not a blighting thing sir! Tis too dark to see a blinkin’ tree Doncha know!” Deimoss shrugged. “Keep ye’ eyes peeled mate. We’s should be expecting ‘em any time soon.” Nokkel nodded his head ina military fashion and saluted “Aye Aye sir! We’s will see ‘em if they be coming Doncha know!” Groil was busy cooking up the rest of the rations over the fire. The torrential rains had soaked most of the food but Groil had managed to save enough for one last night. Whisp was busying himself with making makeshift arrows for his bow. Hilf sat next to Groil by the fire, waxing his bowstring and singing an elven child’s tune. “By me rioghts I’m an elf of the ones who live in the tre-es I love to fight all me wars with me arrrers’ When the foe has to get down on there kne-es We send em’ flying like sparrers’ If Ye’ ever walks amongst in our woods Ye’ be glads that ye’ weren’t our foe We’ll let loose our arrers on into the sky Ands we’ll laugh as we watch Ye’ run ho-ome!” Nokkel laughed as Hilf finished his tune. “Very well done sir!” Hilf grinned “Ye’ gots any tunes Nokkel?” “Well We mercenaries certainly do doncha know!” A few of Nokkel’s group sat around the fire. Nokkel tapped his boots on a rock that surrounded the fire. “One.. Two.. Three. Fo’ Fi-ive!” “We are the mercenaries of the RED KNIGHTS! We march all day and we fight fight fight! There’s not a weapon Ye’ can hand us! That we do not already kno-ow Oh! But please do not disband us! For we’ll be on our o-own! We are the mercenaries of the Red Knights!’ ‘Red Knights!’ Red Knights ‘Red Knights’ Red Knights We march where ever we roo-oam There’s not a man who can stand us Nor neither friend nor fo-oe Oh! But when ye’ can not stand us We’ll march on doncha kno-ow!” The entire campfire lit up with cheers and laughter as the Mercenaries of the Red Knights took a bow. Deimoss patted Nokkel on the back with a wide smile. “Haha! Very well sung Mate!” The carried on as the group switched sentries while others sang. Nokkel had just gotten done completing second watch when one of the half elves was heard shouting. “We’s got company mates!!!” Nokkel leaped out of his bedding and was immediately met by Deimoss who had also heard the half elf. Nokkel yelled. “Where are they?!” But Deimoss had already spotted the incoming party. The sky was littered with bat like forms flying in the moon lit sky. Deimoss quickly tried to count the group as their forms came closer. “Sixty or more mates, coming directly towards us. Hilf, Whisp! Get Yer bones o’er here and knock yer bows.. We’s got company comin’ !” Meanwhile Ulrich and his party were on route to the company of orcs directly north of them. They were hugging the mountains and lower grounds, still very weary of the dragons that they had seen earlier that night. Ulrich looked ahead just in time to see a dim light off in the distance extinguish itself. Scrate looked over at Ulrich, who was flying next to him. “Did you see that Ulrich?” “Yes I did Scrate, someone doesn’t want to see them however.” As the winger formation closed in on the hill top an arrow whizzed by Ulrich. Catching him totally off guard and lightly cutting his cheek as he veered out of it’s deadly path. A few more arrows shot past them. “Spread out!” The winger parties spread out like a startled school of fish. The arrows seemed to fly out of trees, bushes, and out of thin air. Ulrich knew who ever was shooting was extremely skilled with the bow. He spotted Deimoss down on the hilltop leading a few Elves to different areas. He flew down to the ground like a hawk flying after its prey. Descending down like a rocket on a target. Spiraling to the ground like a giant bullet, veering parallel with the ground only moments before he collided with it. Whisp, Hilf, Groil, and a few others were covering the sky with arrows. Hilf turned to knock another arrow in his bow when he met Ulrich head on. Ulrich was soaring across the ground, only a few feet above it, and rammed into Hilf, who had stepped out of a bush to reload.. The collision was a surprise to both Ulrich and Hilf. The pair tumbled like a set of rag dolls across the forest floor. Hilf could feel his collar bone snap as the large flying man collided with him and sent him crashing through a large bush. After colliding with Hilf, Ulrich teetered in mid air as if he was weightless, flying uncontrolled into the ground, then tumbling across the ground and rolling into a tree with a large thud, followed seconds after with a large crack of a bone. Watching the winged man tumble by him like a tossed wet rag, Deimoss ran to the tree that the man had collided with. He looked over the unconscious, broken heap of the winged man that lay almost embedded into the base of the tree. Deimoss laid his head to the man’s chest, listening to the man’s chest for any sign of life. He could hear the soft and quiet breathing of the man’s lungs, although faint, he was still breathing. Groil rushed to Hilf’s side after firing another arrow into the sky. Scrate landed on the ground, behind a few pine trees, only yards away from Ulrich’s crash. He pulled his war blade from his back. Staring down double-edged sickle hook that connected with a quarterstaff, then preceded to a war spike on the opposite end. He held the staff with one hand and charged out of the pine trees towards Groil, who was kneeling over Hilf’s unconscious form. Scrate draped the hook around Groil’s neck and pulled him back. “Don’t move or you’ll die”. Groil put his hands up and allowed Scrate to pull him to his feet. With Scrate’s hook blade still wrapped around his neck he swallowed lightly. “No un’s gonna try nuffin matey’” “Who…are ..you?” Deimoss looked up from inspecting the unconscious winged man and saw Groil being dragged to his feet by another winged man. Deimoss drew his sword and rose to feet while hollering at the winged man. “Drop yer’ blade!…Now!” Scrate turned and looked at Deimoss, with his hook around Groil’s neck, he turned Groil in front of him and in between him and Deimoss, with his double, razor edged hook still swathed around Groil’s neck. “I would advise you to do the same. Who are you and what is your business here?” Whisp rushed to the side of Deimoss and drew his bow and knocked and arrow, aiming it at Scrate. Deimoss waved his hand at Whisp in a signal to put down his bow. “We’s are looking for a few lost members of our party. We mean no harm here mate.” Scrate quirked a brow and grinned sarcastically. “Oh really? So firing on our party counts as a peaceful action? Sir I do wish to ask you what is your definition of ‘meaning no harm’?” Wedness dropped to the ground behind Whisp, almost the same moment she touched the earth she swung her war blade skillfully and slit the string of Whisp’s bow, and pointed her war spike at Deimoss; almost touching his back. In less then a second after Wedness landed, Kessel’s voice was heard clearly behind her. “beg yer’ pardon mate, and er matess but’s ye’ made no friendly entrance or appearance yerself. Coming out of the sky in attack formation and all, doncha knows this sort of rubbish causes a feller to go on the defense doncha know! Now put yer blades down before I’s slice ye’ in half ye bat winged rebels!” Nokkel had sneaked up behind Wedness, and was ready with his rapier. Wedness looked behind her at Nokkel, the tall thin half elf, then back at Scrate. Scrate nodded, giving Wedness directions to put down her weapon. Both parties dropped their weapons and Scrate ordered a few of his men to take a look at Ulrich. Deimoss shook off some dust from his tunic and looked at Scrate. “What in blood’s name are ye’ doin’ flying that low any way if ye’ dun mind me asking” “Staying out of sight of enemies” “No offense sir but we’s saw yer just fine” “I mean bigger enemies, dragons. Lots of them too” “Dragons? Ye’ being chased by flippin dragons are ye’?!” “No not being chased, just weary of the monsters. We's saw them flying through that storm, hundreds of them" "Hunnerds of em' ye' say?" "Yes , Hundreds of them. But as of the moment a good friend of mine lay injured on these grounds , we must see to it that he sees attention" "Ye' won't go to far flyin' him matey, looks to me's like he's broken a few bones" "Well what would you say for us to do?" "I says ye' wait till we's gets some kind of splint on 'im and our man as well. They says there's a halflings village near here, we could prolly take them there's, I'm also s'posed to meet another party there as well" Whisp stared over the unconscious form of his friend. He began to wrap Hilf in leather, starting with his injured torso. "Hilf, me ole friend, ye' certainly gots lucky this time mates, ye' still are alive matey". Hilf was still unconscious from the crash with Ulrich, his collar bone was broken, and his shoulder blade cracked , Hilf was indeed lucky to be alive, and with substantially minor injuries compared to the crash. After some time the parties wrapped Hilf and Ulrich tightly in anything they could come up with , leather, tight cloth, and leather strips, and spare belts. Rigging up a make shift stretcher for their injured friends , and marching them off the mountain face in the late hours, the two parties set off for the halfling village. Lore was walking down through the mountain passages , accompanied by Meek, they were walking towards the Main halls where Dimitri, Cleo , and Kessel were. It was as if a fog of awkward silence was in the air, neither Meek , nor Lore said anythng to each other for quite sometime. Until Meek finally broke the silent spell, "They says this Orc army is called 'The Army of the Red Serpent' Heh, Orcs are Orcs and I says they all die the sames. What do you says Lore?" "I agree with ye' Meek, they all die the same, but I'm beginning to worry about who or what is leading these orcs Meek, they already murdered and attacked villages, and slaughtered and enslaved everyone in them" Meek looked back at Lore in gasp. "Murdered everyone ye' say?" "Aye , and those they didn't murder they enslaved" "Hmm, well we's be heading out in the morning to go attack these orcs on the river, rumor says they're barricading the shore lines" "Well Meek, ye' finally getting out there and actually fighting the orcs eh? guess ye' are still a wee bits adventurous in yer ole age" Meek glared at Lore, "Ye' keeps calling me old and I's gonna slay ye' first Lore. Ho ho ho!" Meek opened the door for Lore and they stepped into a large stone room. Cleo and Dimitri were in a action filled dual with wooden swords, displaying ravishing acrobatics. Lore looked at the tall, slim Half elf standing in the corner, also staring at the two dualing. He walked into the room quietly, and sat near the back of the room alongside of the half elf. Dimitri and Cleo were shouting eccentrically at each other while they dueled and flipped around the room. "Take that ye' fiendish orc lover!" "Orc lover ye say? tchah!" "Hey! no flying! that's cheating!" “Cheating Ye’ Say!?!?! Tchaa’ tis not me fault Ye’ don’t have wings! Haa Take that!” Cleo twisted his bladed skillfully and disarmed Dimitri, sending Dimitr’s sword to the floor. Dimitri rolled across the floor in an attempt to grab the blade , but a leather boot stomped on the wooden sword, holding to the ground. “Ye’ never could listen when I’s says be careful could Ye son?” Dimitri looked up to see who was standing his sword. Staring right into the face of his grinning father, Lore. “Father! Whe..where did Ye’ come from , how did ye find us?!” Dimitri sprang up to his feet and engulfed Lore in a mighty hug. “Ho ho ho! There there son, quite an adventure Ye’ had, I’s heard.” “Adventure!?!? Baah! These rapscallions are top mark trouble finders doncha know!” Lore looked over at Kessel then back at Dimitri, “Aye and who be yer friend?” “Oh , him? He’s … He’s Kessel” Cleo sat silently, watching father and son re-unite. Watching the pair provoked him to think about his own dad, and if he was still alive, he held in a tear, wondering if he would ever see his dad Ulrich again. “Aye’s we weres in a big scrobble with a hefty amount o’ orcs, when these fellers came and assisted us.” Meek interrupted, “ Theys called themselves the mercuries of the bloody night or something along those lines” Kessel yelled out loudly, in a fit. “Mercuries of the bloody night Ye’ say!?!?! BAAH! Ye’ hairy even inside Ye’ skull, Ye’ are! Tis thee Mercenaries of the Red Knights Doncha know!” Lore chuckled at Kessel, as he continued to mumble and complain about the mis-naming. “Acht! Whatever tis was yer called yerselves, ye’ only came with the two lil’ uns” . “Where’s the rest of the group Lore ? Are they here?” Cleo asked. “Sum o’ em’ are Cleo, Deimoss and I’s split up the group and they’s went look’n over the other two mountains south o’ here’s.” Meek began to leave the room , but turned and looked at Cleo. “Oh, Cleo lad, ye stills gots that there unicorn horn on ye’?”. Cleo nodded “Yea, I’s still gots it, why do ye’ ask?” “May I’s sees it fer a lil while lad? I’s tend to do a lil work on it.” Cleo nodded and rifled through his haversack and pulled out the magnificent creation. Hesitant to hand it to Meek, Cleo looked at the horn for a short while, until Meek set his hand on Cleo’s shoulder. “Aye, Heh, Ye’ will gets it back by the mornin’ lad, I’s just gonna fix her up fer ye’ we’s won’t leave until ye’ gets it back O’right lad?” Cleo looked up at the dwarf and nodded assuringly, and handed the magical horn over to him. At that moment Kipshaw walked into the room, followed by the others. Dimitri burst across the room at Kip with a smile. “Whatho mum!”. Kip grinned as she took Dimitri into her arms. “Hehe Whatho? What does that mean now? And where in the bloomin earth have ye’ been?” “Whatho’ is what Kessel says when he’s saying hello.” Cleo interrupted, “We’ve been doing fine Kip, how ye’ be yerself?” Kessel looked over at Kipshaw and bowed “Me apologies me lady, I certainly feel ye’ pain I do” Kip was a bit taken back “Apologies? My pain? Fer what sir?” “I am Kessel, Mercenary of the Red Knights, fighter of foes, and slayer of orcs , killer of kobolds, and ….and, grabbers of goblins Doncha know! Now , I’s have met many monsters during my time, all terrible fiends doncha know, but naught in me life have I’s ever laid eyes on a monster such as yer lil Dimitri here ,and to think of all the pain that you had to raise the lil rip, I give me apologies and condolences!”. Kipshaw and Lore burst out laughing, Kip had turned red as a rose after Kessel’s speech. “Weh heh heel’ heheheee. It’s a pleasure to meet you Kessel, I hope these two didn’t lead you into too much trouble now.” Lead me?!?!?!? The practically drug me into it, the lil rapscallions. If it weren’t fer me we’s would have never survived the onslaught with those orcs Doncha know!” Dimitri and Cleo’s voices echoed through the cavern room in argument. “Drug ye’ ye say!?!?! Ye’ be the one leading off saying it Tis ye’ sworn duty and all that rubbish!” “Aye, Ye’ even took Dimitri’s saber to fight with, leaving him totally unarmed!” “Aye he did too! I fought off three orcs bare handed Ye’ know!” Lore looked at Kipshaw with a playful grin. “Looks to me that this here Kessel has taught the boys what exaggeration means eh?” “Hehe, it certainly looks like it!”. The night went on with sounds of wind and rain drumming against the mountain’s thick stone walls. Meek led the outfit of travelers to the dinner hall to eat. The tremendously large room was in mere chaos of hungry dwarves, seated upon rows and rows of stone and iron tables. The room was almost gothic in design. The ceiling itself was twenty or more heights above the tallest of the dwarves, with carving and designs of ancient battles and heroes. Cleo and Dimitri took seats along side of Lore and Kip, across from them sat a honking figure of a dwarf. The dwarf still had gravy and miscellaneous droppings of food hung in his beard from meals before. Slugging down, what seemed like, tankards of Rose berry Ale one after another. “Acht! So Ye’ be wanting to travel wit ee’ dwarves are ye’ nauw eh? Heh heh” The dwarf interruptedly announced. Cleo was drawn back by the mere stench and the large amount of Ale hanging in the dwarf’s breath. Lore looked over at the dwarf, “Huh? Heh, no sir, we’s be heading the opposite direction of where ye’ heading at thee’ moment sir. We’s be off to find horned peak , along with the rest of our party.” Lore found it hard to concentrate on even the simplest of sentences while watching the dwarf annihilate a turkey leg, and devour it in a few ripping bites. Grease and fat of the destroyed bird leg found the dwarf’s beard and struck to it. Dimitri stared at the Dwarf in disgust, not even knowing he was rubbing his hand to his face in a cleaning gesture. “HAA! Cowards ye’ are .. Are ye’!?! Not merely wanting to find a foight with orcs now eh? Heh, running thee other way looking for a partai’ Ye’ are now? Heh ..heheheh…. blaggards ye’ are! Aye!” Lore looked over at the dwarf again in total confusion. “Coward ye’ say? I’s be thinking ye’ needs to sober up a wee bit sir… ye’ are not in yer right state O’mind-“ “Haa I’s knews it! Ye’ are orcs arencha?!” the dwarf carried on. Dimitri stared down at himself and looked at the dwarf “Yer out of ye’ flippin’ mind! We’s be elves ye’ drunken fool!” Lore stared harshly back and Dimitiri and pointed to the bench for him to sit down on. The dwarf staggered to his feet, still grumbling and complaining about orcs and elves and how they all looked the same, as he staggered away. The dwarf staggered into Kessel, who was trying to find a seat amongst the rows of feeding dwarves. “Yaar! Ye’ one of them too arencha! Yew Fewl!” Kessel, not knowing what to say just let the drunken dwarf past him and sat down across from Lore and the others. “That man needs a mum very badly doncha know, one of them he says? What is the world is he spouting off about?” Kessel shook his head as he carrie on. “Baah! That there dwarf is spouting out rubbish I’s says doncha know! Oh well , I’s not gonna lend a hand in helping some dwarf disrupt my dinner doncha know!” Far from Mount Homage, standing tall and gloomy, staring over rows and rows of black charcoal-colored graveled valleys, stood Mount Komodo. Inside the mountain, hanging from the ceiling of his chamber in torpor-like sleep was Nabulous Le’Critious. Twitching and snarling like a rabid animal, his talonous feet clenching to the ceiling of the cavern, the Demon lord himself was having a horrifying nightmare. Nabulous chased a winged boy through the mountain’s caverns and colossal fissures of the mountain. The ever so embracing heat, sulfur and steam flooded his nostrils and stung his eyes. The entire mountain was boiling, and caving in under the extreme heat. This nightmare carried on through the Demon’s mind like a tormenting thorn in a lion’s paw. No matter how hard he tried he couldn’t catch the pitiful mortal, flying boy. He chased the boy into what looked like his thrown chamber. “Haa!” Nabulous thought, Malice would be in there, and then there would be no more boy. Even in his sleep, a venomous grin creased over Nab’s wicked face. But as quickly as the grin went over his face it left as he chased the flying boy into the room , to only find Malice grinning wickedly back at him. The mighty Red Dragon let out a monstrous war cry that shook the chamber’s walls followed by a mighty wave of fire, directed at Nab. Nab felt himself engulfed in flames, the increasing heat and the impact of the inferno’s blow sent him spiraling out of the room like a thrown wet cloth. Nab woke as he felt his head whack against something hard and cold. Jolting to his feet he realized he had fallen from the ceiling. Trembling from the flood of adrenaline that ran through his immortal veins, Nab sat there in silence thinking to himself and shaking violently. “This is ridiculous”, Nab thought, “I am Nabulous Le’Critious! Haa! A mortal boy out flying me!?! Malice turning on me? BAHAAHAHA!” Nabulous burst into hysterical laughter. Regaining his confidence, Nabulous walked out of his quarters. Bursting through the door, by kicking it open with his feet, Nab strolled into the room. “Any news on these twelve woodlanders Malice?” Nab said while cockily approaching the dragon lord’s throne. The Dragon didn’t speak. “Why so quiet Malice? Is there now any news for me, or perha-“ As Nabulous strolled around the humungous throne he could see it wasn’t occupied. “Hmm,….Krunkhill! “ Nab yelled . A large orc came running into the room. “Yes M’lordship?” Nab smiled and began walking towards him. “Where is Malice may I ask?” “Yer’ Lordship, Malice has left the mountain almost two nights ago Sire.” “Left two nights ago hmm?” Nab walked closer to the Orc, his twelve foot form stood almost an entire height above the large orc. “Ye-Yes Sire He left with a large amounts of Draconians the night of the big storm sire.” Nab’s eyebrow perked up in interest, still holding the wicked smile Nab paced around the orc, intimidating him t othe point the when the orc was beginning to shake in his boots. “And you did what? Just let them go? Krunkhill, please tell me you have some sort of lead on what Malice was doing, surely your pathetic scraps of material you call a brain isn’t that slow. So tell me Krunk, where is Malice now?” Yer ..Yer Lordship, Malice had told us to not ask questions , and yourself had also warned us about thinking fer ourselves , and I …I was merely following orders sire, I did-“ “Quit Yer babbling Krunk and tell me! Do you or do you not know where he was going!” Nab stepped forward and dug his talonous foot into the orc’s toes of his boots, causing Krunkhill to crinch in pain. “Ahh! Sir, yer lord ship! AHH! Yer foot is in my-“ “Tell me Krunk” Nab said impatiently. “I…Ahh! I ….don’t .. know Sire! Ahhhoowwwiiie!” Nab dug his talons in more and twisted his foot, causing the orc to squeal. “AAAHH M’lord please show mercy Sire! OOWooohooh..aahh! Sire please!” Nab leaned his face in next to Krunk’s ear, slithering his snake like tongue as he whispered in Krunk’s ear. “Mercy? You, an orc asking for mercy? Heh , Krunk my mortal being, a Demon like me is impossible of showing mercy on a pathetic being like yourself. But as you wish, I won’t do what I intend to do to you.” The Demon took a large sigh. Nabulous released his talonous feet claws from Krunk’s boot. The orc took a deep breath of relief, but before he could even finish his breathe Nab thrust a razor sharp claw through his neck. Using only a fraction of his strength, Nab hoisted the large orc into the air by his claw and dropped him to the ground. The orc fell to his knees gasping for air. “Now tell me Krunk, do you feel any better? I did not mangle your body to pieces like I wanted to, does mercy feel any better Krunk? Hmm?” The orc took a horrifying look at the demon, and then his eyes rolled back and fell lifeless, in a bloody heap on the stone floor of the huge throne room. Nabulous looked up at the doorway to the hall, at the end of the colossal throne room, and saw a small Goblin peeking around the torch lit entrance, terrified of what he just saw. “You there!” He shrieked, his voice trembled with violence and rage. If a goblin could turn white, this one did. It was as if he turned into solid brick, fear didn’t allow the goblin to even breathe. Nabulous took a breath, regaining his composure, before saying, in a calmer manner “It’s ok little one, your not in trouble” The goblin took a step out of the doorway, still shaking from fear. Nab began walking over to him smiling, even his smile reeked with vengeance. “So what’s your name little one?” “Scra….scratch” Nab walked over to the small trembling goblin. “Scratch?” “Yes sir, Scratch” Nab walked around the petrified goblin in a pacing manner, holding his blood soaked claw-like hand to his chin. “Hmm scratch, well how long have you been with the horde? Two terms? Three perhaps?” “aa-, eight sir, I’s eight terms old” Nab’s eyebrows quirked in surprisement , though no true emotion painted his face. “Eight you say? Wow, impressive for such a….” peering down at the goblin as he continued “diminutive individual. Now how about this scratch. I just recently lost a captain due to stupidity…..are you capable of committing to such a rank?” . The goblin was a gasped in shock of having that question asked. “Yes sir!” He squealed excitedly. Nab smiled, attempting to portray a kind smile , but for a demon it merely looked pure evil. “Good then, You shall be known as Captain Scratch!” Nabulous had to let out a small laugh at the sound of the name. “Heh, yes captain scratch, and your very first mission scratch.” “Yes sir?” “I want you to take every goblin in this mountain, every one, and march south….” “And then what sir?” “and kill, raid, loot, and pillage EVERYTHING, and EVERYONE you see! Is that clear ? Captain scratch?” The goblin nodded his head eccentrically. “Good then Scratch! I expect you to be moving by nightfall, you may arm your army with any of the weapons that appeal to you out of the forges. Be gone for three weeks, and then return to me. Now dismissed Captain!” The Goblin ran out of the room like a four year old tot who just received a handful of candy. Nab paced back and forth through his mighty throne room thinking to himself. A viewer could almost see smoke coming from his demonic ears as the gears in his evil mind turned and thought up plans. Suddenly , like an electric shock, it was there , the perfect plan! Oh yes, Nab thought, this would work. An sinful smile rutted across his scaly face, this was it. Nab burst through the throne room doors and out into the open cavern halls. Orc soldiers, who were scattered all around stood up, straight as rock statues, and saluted the Demon Lord. “Now Orcs!” he yelled as he walked past them in haste , marching down the hall. “I need three regiments mobilized…..NOW!” Chapter 14 The morning after the horrid winds and rain had left them, the orc party was already busy rebuilding their camp. The banks of the river were littered with canvasses, rags, helms, armor, and everything else that the orc regiment had. Bashel strolled down the river bank, along with a squad of orc soldiers, picking up belongings and lost equipment. This wasn’t at all what Bashel had planned the night before. Bashel sneered at the thought if him, a captain of the red serpent army, being seen picking up trash along a river bank. “Get that dirk out of the river corporal! I’s dun care if it’s a strong current, jus’ get that blade, along with that there shield behind ye’ there!”. Bashel yelled out orders at the squad, sending them in and out of the cold snow watered river to fetch things. “Take one more step and I’s will slew ye’ true and through orc!” A voice yelled from across the river. All members of the party froze, Bashel looked around nervously for the person yelling. The voice sounded elven, but with a more nasal sounding voice. H took a step back off the river bank “Who are ye’?! Show yerself. We’s be just a small band of homeless orcs gathering up our belongin’s from the storm, we’s mean no harm. Now show yerselves mate!” An arrow raced through the air out of a bunch of rose bushes, and came so close to Bashel’s face that the feathers from the arrow scratched him. The pure energy of the arrow caused the orc to stumble back and trip on the muddy banks and fall flat on his behind. “oooh no harm Yar’ say orc? Thet arrer’ came from some blighters up stream. They says they knows yew and yew are ther cap’n ;a cap’n of a rather LARGE armae that calls themselves tharr wed serpink army. ….” Bashel stood up and wiped some blood from the cut on his face. Concealing a snarl, Bashel made a friendly smile and put his hands slightly up. “I’s dunno whatcha talkin’ bouts mate. We’s be’ just some homeless orcs matey.” “Orc, I ken hit a flee off tho’ top of yar filthy skell. Dun make me’s show thee dar trick! Heh heh, Now throw down yar weppunz, and loot, and leave…….yar kin?” Bashel took one glance at his men, who were slightly shaken up by the invisible foe, and yelled “Kill ‘im! Dun just stand there! Kill ‘im! Now! Charge the river!” The first orc that began to charge into the river was dropped dead in his tracks by an arrow that was shot from up the stream a ways. A few more arrows soared through the air at lightning speed, from what seemed like all directions, striking down the orc squad in mere fractions of a second; Bashel was left alive and un-touched. With no one watching but his foes, Bashel sized up the situation and threw down his weapon and ran off the stream bank, behind cover. Before he could make it totally out of sight an arrow flew across the stream and hit, smack-dab, in the orc’s rump, causing Bashel to perform a skip-hop and yelp as he ran into cover. The foliage, across the river, lit up in a small burst of giggles and mischievous laughter, then the bushes ruffled and shook for a thought in time, and all was still again on the river bank. Bashel’s form was seen stumbling and running like a wounded animal amongst the forest cover and into the camp. Spitfire , one of Bashel’s lieutenants stood up in attention as Bashel limped over to him. The campfire that the orcs were surrounding went still and silent as the army’s captain approached. “Sir? What happened!?” “All o’yer! Pack up! we’s being attacked, move yerselves!” The camp of orcs came alive like an angered bees nest , rushing around and picking up the lessened amount of equipment that was left. Bashel could feel a rumbling in his chest like a volcanic movement, his veins pumped full of anger and hatred as the grumbling blew into a full volcanic war cry, followed by an onslaught of orcs crossing over the river like a machine of death and destruction and fueled by pure evil itself. This was the last straw, Bashel was out for revenge and he didn’t care whether Nabulous killed him or not, but he had lost too many battles and he wasn’t going to lose a battle with a bunch of giggling cowards hiding in bushes. The army marched over the river like clockwork, wherever they went they burned the scenery behind them. From a distance the army looked like a river of black lava pouring through the foliage and destroying everything in sight. It was dawn and the dwarves were already up, Lore peeled open his eyes, listening to the giggles and hearty laughter of Cleo and Meek in the hallway outside of bed. The bustling around and the clanking of equipment echoed through the rocky corridors of mount homage as a glorious army of dwarves, all dressed in battle armor, marched into the mountains great hall. He looked over on the bed and sighed , dag nabbit, he thought , Kipshaw was already up and about. Lore didn’t want to, but he got up and threw on his clothes, his room only lit by a few candles and an oil lamp left little lighting but he managed to find his garb and tunic and walk out the door. The moment he walked out the door a shiny blade whizzed past his chest and continued flying down the hallway and stuck straight in the rock wall at the end of the corridor. Lore jumped back “Whoa!” he yelled in surprise while drawing his short swords. A hearty laugh was heard down the hall. “Ho ho watch it there lad, ye’ almost slew Lore! Ho ha ho ha, hey Lore get out here and take a looksie at what Cleo can do!” Lore rolled his eyes at the sound of Meek’s voice, what a great morning he thought, You wake up with no one there , and then get knives thrown at you. Lore walked around the corner, while putting his swords pack In their sheaths , and approached Meek and Cleo who were smiling like two little kids. “What’s with the entire giggling like two rapscallions trying to conceal a fart eh?” “Heh Show ‘im Cleo lad!” Cleo ran down the hall and retrieved the knife out of the stone wall then ran back to Lore and held out the blade in his hand. Lore had to wait for a minute for his jaw to get off the floor as he gasped at the marvel of the blade. “The unicorn horn! Wha? How?” Lore said in shock while Meek smiled sheepishly “ Aye , I’s sat up most of der night working on it, gots her to look pretty fancy eh?” “ Tis beautiful if ye’ asks me mate.” “Heh ye’ seen nuttin yet mate , Cleo, show ‘im lad” Cleo flipped the blade around so he was holding the point, drew back and threw blade furiously at the wall. The blade spun perfectly as if it literally was alive and knew which end that had to stick, the blade twisted in mid air and slammed into the wall, almost all the way up to it’s hilt. Lore walked over and tugged on the horn, but the blade didn’t budge a hair. “That’s amazing mate ! Cleo who taught yer how to throws a knife like that?” “Meek showed me Lore! But the blade won’t move fer no ones but me, and look tis goes into rock like a hot knife through butter!” Lore looked at the unicorn bladed dirk in awe, he touched the spiraled handle, almost braded with different metals and minerals. “That’s amazing mate, purely amazing. Ye’ dint hafta do that Meek.” Meek grinned while looking down at his feet and rocking back and forth on his heels. “I knows mates, but as like ye’ said , through all that god awful pointy ears, and chiseled chin, and horrible elf scent, ye’ not a bad mate.” Lore stood there smirking at Meek “Haa! I knews ye’ hads to have sum pess of a heart in all that twixt of hair ye’ gots!” So the two companions headed down to the main hall where an amazing site of Armored dwarven infantry sat. Fully dressed in bucket helms , silvery shiny breast plates ,and massive war weapons. The two front lines carried pikes ,with their double headed axes glittering on their backs, while the lines behind the pike men all carried axes. Sling throwers were on the outside ranks as well. Lore’s mouth gasped open in amazement of the army of Dwarves , in less then two nights Meek had mobilized a grand army of Dwarves into action. Each dwarf in the multiple lines faced the doorway, but turned their head to Meek as Meek walked down the skillfully carved rock stairwell and down to the ground level of the main entry way. Lore looked about the colossal sized mountain, looking up in the honey combed spiraling fixtures Lore could see all the dwarven women and children staring over the edge at their family members that were dressed for war. Kessel walked In behind Lore with a turkey leg clutched between his teeth “This place has got to be the--….Oh my mate! Now that there is an Army!” Lore looked back at Kessel with a grin “Aye sure is mates … Doncha know! Haha!” .
Meek signaled to the dwarven door guards to open the great door of Mount Homage. As the massive rock door lowered itself down a stream of white sunlight hit the army with an explosive flash. The chrome and silvered colored armor on the dwarves glittered about in an awesome show of radiance. Meek raised his mighty battles axe and pointed out the door, while yelling proudly. “ Move yerself mates ,we’s got orcs to fight!” .
The going was tough for elves and the winger group. They marched over thick bramble weeds and bushes that littered the floor of the forest foothills like waves of a green ocean frozen in time. Deimoss and Nokkel were carrying Hilf while the winger tribe carried Ulrich, both bound tight in makeshift stretchers. "We will be passing by the spot where we last saw the dragons soon." Scrate said while pointing upward through the canopy of the willow trees. Deimoss looked up at the slim canopy that seemed to drape over them like an old torn blanket. " Which way were they's headed?" " South by west, right over that hill there's a river, they followed that." "That's a battle we'll to fight on another day, today we're going the opposite direction it seems. C'mon mates we needs to head south east to that halfling village." So the parties pressed on all towards their own destinations, only one party was already at their end of the travels, the Dragons. Malice had thought out his plans of action to an art far beyond perfection. His army lay hidden, surrounding the one source of hope for those travlers. The one place that had any threat to Mount Komodo, Horned Peak, it was said to be full of seasoned heroes and experienced warriors, from what he was staring at those myths weren't exagerated He snuck his snake like head over a boulder and stared across a valley a stronghold in a granite cliff. The doors even looked intimidating for a dragon his size, due to the fact they were furnished from a dragon's skull many folds older and larger then even him. He had heard tales of dragons that size before, totally unstoppable and closer to being a godlike force then any other life form on the face of this planet. Now he was staring at a door made out of one's skull, with it's facials tusks pertruding out of the side of the cliff face like watch towers. If he were to take this place for his own he would have alot of work to do. He grinned at the thought of Nabulous's strategy for taking ver Horned Peak. He had once crossed the idea with Nabulous only a few years back. Nabulouss quote was " We just charge in and take it, what so difficult about that?" . "So much arrogance" Malice said with a grin as he shook his monstrous head and moved away from the boulder and behind the row of rocks and boulders. Such an attack would cause too much alarm and the stronghold would have too much time to react. The invasion army would be slaughterred. He crawled down the hill amongst his draconian soldiers still thinking about how he ever thought that a demon had more intelligence then he, Malice the almighty dragonlord. He should of allowed Nabulous to attempt an attack on Horned peak, it would allowed Nabulous to die and the stronghold to be weakened without his attack even being renderred yet. He stopped in his tracks and grinned Maliciously " That's IT!" he snarled out. His serpentine army quickly gathered up and fled in a hurry to follow their leader, who was slithering off amongst the boulders in the rocky terrain and out of sight of Horned Peak's lookouts.

Mork Incorporated

Hosted by www.Geocities.ws