Board Thread:Custom Lore Development/@comment-25344655-20160611232041

Rough draft.

==Chapter 1: Tradition ==

A wooden cart creaked as it rolled along a cobblestone path. It’s driver, beard grey and eyes ancient, looked at the king’s eldest son, Bowen Sackett. He was a tall lad with tan skin and dark blue eyes, he had the stubble of a beard starting on his already scarred chin. Sacketts begin training at a young age, and don't stop until they are too old to be drafted, which is 65 years old. This sackett however, was his heir to the throne of the kingdom, and as such, doesn't train until ten. As a tradition, all Sackett heirs are to travel to Kheled-arnin and meet a man named Glosur Darloc. Legend is that Glosur is an immortal, and he helped Bowens great great grandfather defend the kingdom from being destroyed by raiders and larger kingdoms at the time. Since then they have been in debt to him, and make regular visits to his empire, which spans from mountain to mountain. He was entrusted to keeping the boy safe until they got to the citadel of silver and back, which he intended to do.

“Excuse me, but when should we arrive at this...Kheled-Arnin?” Asked the young sackett, still confused why he left his home in the first place.

“Soon, child, soon.” Responded the man, looking around for danger.

As if heard by the universe, towering White Mountains began coming into view, sheer unclimbable mountains even by goats. The sun fled under the mountains to hide from the rising moon. The cobblestone path began to go beneath the mountains into a tunnel lightened by the dim flicker of torches and the occasional shine of rats eyes in the darkness. Soon light was seen again as they entered a large green valley full of tall, ancient pine trees and deep green grass that made the place seem ancient. The cobblestone trail turned into a full on brick road. In the distance you saw the faint mountains surrounding the valley, distant watchtowers stood watch on the mountains, faint fires flickering in the dark sky. From the tunnel’s exit you could see the entire valley, and over the towering trees and hills was Kheled-Arnin itself, the Silver Citadel, Capital and home of the Union of the Silver Shield, the Freedom Star, its large gate dug into the mountain walls, it is one of the strongest places in the world. The sun seemed to set perfectly behind the gate, sending a dim red light over the valley, but making the gate itself in the dark, lit by torches.

“Sir? What is this place?” piped up a stunned Bowen.

“This, Bowen, is the capital of an empire. This is where you meet a god.”

With that, the cart pulled up to a checkpoint, where a guard  looked and said

<span style="font-size:16px;font-family:'TimesNewRoman';color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“Ah. Welcome travellers! What brings you to the lands of Glosur?” Spoke the guard, as he searched the cart for anything banned.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:16px;font-family:'TimesNewRoman';color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“I have the heir to the Sackett family line. We are here to see Glosur.”

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:16px;font-family:'TimesNewRoman';color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“I see, continue onward. Go to the heart of the city, his palace is there.”

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:16px;font-family:'TimesNewRoman';color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">The cart jolted forward, going past smaller cities in the shadow of Kheled-arnin, and some old ruins, obviously remnants of an earlier time. Soon the huge gate came into view again, the guards stared down at us as the large lumbering gates opened, and the cart walked in. As soon as the cart entered, the view was enormous, the entrance stood above the rest of the city, the place first opened as a large hallway, large enough for regular houses to be dwarfed by the walls, a few shops were carved into the walls, and there were guards manning ballistae just barely visible, giving off the impression the visible guards were not the only defenders of the city. As they continued on, the hallway began to split, one hallway went into the forgery, with carts of silver, gold and steel constantly coming out, some going to the small trade posts by the gate, others leaving to trade with other civilisations. The other hallway went deeper into the city. Gargantuan statues stared down at  the travellers, giving that impression of always being watched, but somehow it felt the statues weren’t giving the impression alone. The area suddenly opened to a huge carved out cave, the ceiling slowly climbing up until you couldn’t see it any longer. They rolled by children playing in a fountain, throwing the occasional gold piece in, before being called back into their homes. Every once and awhile, a compass was engraved onto the floor, pointing where you are headed.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:16px;font-family:'TimesNewRoman';color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“I suppose that says how big the city is...” Mumbled a still dazed Bowen.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:16px;font-family:'TimesNewRoman';color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“Heh, yes I suppose so.”

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:16px;font-family:'TimesNewRoman';color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">They rode by what seemed to be a Great Library, many citizens travelled in and out of it with books and tapestries in hand, the Library seemed to form into one of the pillars holding up the cave, withe library levels climbing up half the pillar. The cart seemed to be going deeper and deeper into the cavernous system, the lower they got, the richer everything started to feel. Buildings slowly went from stone, to granite, to marble, to starting to have gold and silver decorations. At one point they went through another large hallway. They arrived at another large gate, seeming to move past the civilian section, and into a more militaristic and guarded section in the middle of the city which the civilian section surrounded. The guards, with much restraint, opened the gates. Not before removing them of their cart for ‘security purposes.’ and the two now were walking down a path that seemed to be climbing down a flat wall, deeper and deeper into the earth. At the bottom of the path they saw a large walled fortress. The two were so far below they wondered how they hadn’t been burned alive. This new section was quiet, the only other people around were guards who gave suspicious looks to the outsiders. However it wasnt eerie, it was peaceful, the air was thick with age and wisdom. It felt as if nothing bad could happen here. Finally, after what seemed to be forever, they arrived at small, but clearly sturdy door of metal at the entrance to the palace- which was built into the wall and went so far up, it seemed to overlook the rest of the city. IT was truly stunning. Bowen had at this point lost will to speak. He didnt have too, for soon a voice called out.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:16px;font-family:'TimesNewRoman';color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“Who approaches the palace of Glosur Darloc, Emperor of the United Empire and wisest of the world?”

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:16px;font-family:'TimesNewRoman';color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">The cart driver was about to speak, but Bowen beat him too it.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:16px;font-family:'TimesNewRoman';color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“W-We come to speak with G-Glosur, It’s been a tradition for two centuries now!”

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:16px;font-family:'TimesNewRoman';color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“Hmph. Very well.”

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:16px;font-family:'TimesNewRoman';color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">For the third time, gates opened up to the palace, which was stunninly decorated with red, green, gold and especially silver. Banners of the Union hanged from the wall, showing off the silver star. The old man looked at the banners with a sad remembrance. Something quickly noticed by Bowen.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:16px;font-family:'TimesNewRoman';color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“Why do you look at the banners like that?”

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:16px;font-family:'TimesNewRoman';color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“Those banners hold much meaning, the Union may represent freedom and justice, but there is much blood and tears spent over upholding such a title.”

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:16px;font-family:'TimesNewRoman';color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“Like what? What happened?”

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:16px;font-family:'TimesNewRoman';color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“It’s a long story, I could tell you of the Civil war, where brother turned on brother, I could speak of the horror of Blackfire volcano, a disaster still greatest in the hearts of these people. I should know, i was there.”

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:16px;font-family:'TimesNewRoman';color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“What do you mean?”

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:16px;font-family:'TimesNewRoman';color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“My name is Galmor Druin, I was a general in the civil war. I was the right hand of Glosur and by extension, the Union. I had to kill many of my own Kin for the freedom of many and to keep the Union whole. The civil war tore the hearts of many who had family in the NR, the New Republic as they called themselves. But most of all, it tore the heart of Glosur, who deeply cares for the well being of his citizens. After the war was over, I just couldn’t stay in the army, it was too painful. So I have taken Sackett heirs to see Glosur since. You all think of his immortality as something to revere and love. It most certainly is not. The most heartbreaking thing for Glosur was not the civil war itself, but who started it. See, Glosur has-had a son. Glorin, who had been under sway of more evil powers for years, became sick with greed and corruption. During the night, when Glosur was away, he snuck out to the Union’s southern colonies, in the mountains of Grimwire, he stirred up rebellions and fear of Glosur. When Glorin saw he was losing, he lashed out. Using his armies as cannon-fodder, swarming over the Union troops. Glosur, in the end, was the one who had to destroy him. Even with the Union united again, Glosur didn’t want to live with what he did, so he attempted suicide, three times. But he was immortal. He couldn’t die. This was fifty years ago now, while on the surface Glosur may seem joyous and happy. Remember his struggles, and how immortality is not a gift, whatsoever.”

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:16px;font-family:'TimesNewRoman';color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">Just at this moment, hard leather boots hit the ground. Bowen looked behind him, and saw a somber Glosur staring back. He gave a sad smile as Bowen noticed the large scar going down the top right of his eye down to the bottom left of his face.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:16px;font-family:'TimesNewRoman';color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“Aye. It’s all true. Galmor here is still one of my greatest friends. Despite me staying the age I am.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:16px;font-family:'TimesNewRoman';color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">He was right, for despite a few gray hairs, he looked in his mid-twenties. He wore royal clothing, reds and silvers, but also was clearly defendable, with a shining blade attached to his left side, and a bow across his back.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:16px;font-family:'TimesNewRoman';color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“So.” Glosur spoke. “Who are you?” ==<span style="font-size:21.333333333333332px;font-family:'TimesNewRoman';color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">Chapter 2: Glosur the wise. == <p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:16px;font-family:'TimesNewRoman';color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">Glosur led them across the palace, into a room which while having a bed for him to sleep in, clearly was littered with strategic items like maps and a round object with two rods across it, every once and a while, one would tick. Bowen wondered how it worked and Glosur seemed to have read his thought.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:16px;font-family:'TimesNewRoman';color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“Simple. We have thought of a way to keep track of time, dividing the time into twelve ‘hours’ and those into minutes. Water is transported from the surface, and turns gears, every time a gear turns twenty times, a minute has passed, and the clock moves. Easy really. Now I will ask again, who are you, why are you here?”

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:16px;font-family:'TimesNewRoman';color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">Galmor spoke up, in a funny tone.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:16px;font-family:'TimesNewRoman';color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“For an immortal being, you are quite paranoid.”

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:16px;font-family:'TimesNewRoman';color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">Glosur simply shrugged, to which Galmor rolled his eyes.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:16px;font-family:'TimesNewRoman';color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“He is Bowen Sackett, heir to the Kingdom of the Aldri Vales. As tradition he has travelled through the plains of the Roh, home to the horse-lords.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:16px;font-family:'TimesNewRoman';color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">Glosur nodded, remembering and understanding. As they spoke, a large explosion was heard, and chips of rock fell from the roof. Glosur looked around in a stunned shock, then proceeded to run into another room, after about five minutes of stunned confusion, Glosur came out, donned in intricate metal armor, the helmet was by far the strangest part of the armor. It  had a facemask that sent chills down the spine of Bowen, the facemask itself seemed to be made of strong hardened steel with chainmail protecting his neck. He drew the sword at his side, now showing to be equally decorated. It’s blade was so silver it seemed to give off a light of its own. He looked at Galmor and Bowen.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:16px;font-family:'TimesNewRoman';color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“Dammit! Siege! You two, stay here.”

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:16px;font-family:'TimesNewRoman';color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">He shot off, soon after, a large bell was heard, a large bronze bell echoed through the city, a deep bell that while not loud, travelled far and probably was heard everywhere. Bowen looked at Galmor.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:16px;font-family:'TimesNewRoman';color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“Well, let’s go!” said Bowen, seemingly getting the courage to pick up one of the spare swords in the room.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:16px;font-family:'TimesNewRoman';color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“Oh no. You are staying right here, this is the safest place for you.”

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:16px;font-family:'TimesNewRoman';color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“Stay here then. I am going to help!”

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:16px;font-family:'TimesNewRoman';color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">Without warning, Bowen sprinted out, nothing but a steel sword in hand. Galmor had no choice  but to follow. He picked up another sword and stared at it. Remembering the fateful day where the rebellion was quenched. Quickly realising he was standing there he as well ran out to find Bowen. He decided to check the most obvious choice, the Gate. As he approached, he saw a sight he never thought he would see. He saw the great valley starting to burn, the entrance to the valley was already blown open, and spread fire through the trees already dry from the summer. He watched as thousands of soldiers marched through the now widened tunnel, carrying with them great siege engines of war and hatred. Two of the watchtowers already burned in the distance, the others would soon fall. The worst thing was, no one knew what enemy this was, or how they were able to sneak up on us like this. It was not a resistless fight however, the gates of Kheled-Arnin opened, and out marched a large number of Union forces. The two powers marched towards each other. Galmor saw Glosur leading the Union corps forces into the fray. He raised his sword, and large ballistae on the battlements fired at the siege equipment. Flaming bolts slammed into the wooden catapults and trebuchets, which, while starting more fires, also destroyed most of the equipment, save some that were coated in metal. He looked through a telescope at the armies. So, as he looked on helpless, like a man looking at ants through a magnifying glass. The two forces started to charge, both equally furious, both willing to take no prisoners. The sky at this point was black from the sheer amount of smoke and ash rising up. Galmor watched in horror and helplessness as the two forces finally clashed. It happened in slow motion for him. Soldiers attempting to stop the sheer momentum of their run as they slammed into pikes or spears.

==<span style="font-size:21.333333333333332px;font-family:'TimesNewRoman';color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">Chapter 3: The siege of the Silver Citadel. ==

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:16px;font-family:'TimesNewRoman';color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">The battle was a nightmare. The sky was black with smoke and the ground was red with fire and frenzy. Gleaming armor tarnished with blood and soot. Trenches and defenses rendered useless from the shear forces of the enemy. From the battlements Galmor watched, hopeless. Bowen was still nowhere to be found, and it was clear Galmor had to continue the search. Slowly, he climbed into the horror, making sure to stay behind friendly lines. He looked for the lad he had set out to protect.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:16px;font-family:'TimesNewRoman';color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">Bowen was crazy, he knew this. But he had to help out. He couldn’t just sit and watch the entire thing happen. He equipped himself with some chainmail and rushed into the battle. But he didn’t understand even the basics of combat training. The first soldier he ran across had disarmed him and cut a large gash into his left shoulder. He had to run behind two soldiers. Now he was lost, and he couldn’t find his way back. The Smoke was so thick and fires so broad it seemed the world itself was opening up to the gates of hell. He had been walking for what seemed like hours now. Then a sheer pain hit his side, as he fell to the ground. He looked down, and saw the shaft of a spear, in his right side, and a soldier dressed in a blood coated suit of armor. Bowen couldn’t move, only watch as death approached. As  the soldier looked at him with eyes so evil and heartless, they could be the eyes of a dragon. Just as he raised his sword to bowen, a figure came out and tackled him. Galmor. He took the soldier to the dirt, creating a cloud out of the dry flaky dirt. Galmor took up a sword, and fought valiantly; in that battle he was no longer seventy, he was the twenty-seven year old general once more. Galmor turned and looked at Bowen, his eyes saying only one thing: Run. Just after, a long sword protruded from his chest, putting him to his knees. Bowen ran, it didn’t matter where he was going, he just wanted to leave.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:16px;font-family:'TimesNewRoman';color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">Glosur looked out over the valley from the charred remains of Numena, a smaller city outside the main fortress. He saw his first unit of bowmen routed, and knew the others would fall suit, so he did something he never thought he would do, he sounded a retreat. He raised and blew a horn that echoed throughout the valley.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:16px;font-family:'TimesNewRoman';color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“Fall back! Fall back to the stronghold! Fall back!”

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:16px;font-family:'TimesNewRoman';color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">Union soldiers turned and ran, hoping to flee as the great gates were creaking shut, they jumped and tripped over their fallen brothers. Their numbers were just too great to face on an open field. The soldiers poured in to defend the city. The gates closed, getting almost everyone in. So the siege began. The fires still raging in the entire valley, the enemy set up outside. They didn’t touch the gate, they couldn’t. But neither did the Union have the strength to push at them. Glosur sat in his palace with Bowen, both staring sadly at the strategic map Glosur had dug out. A general walked into the room.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:16px;font-family:'TimesNewRoman';color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“Just in time. Bowen, meet Farnin, a general of mine.”

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:16px;font-family:'TimesNewRoman';color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">Bowen gave a sad nod of introduction. Farnin put his hands behind his back and stared at the map.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:16px;font-family:'TimesNewRoman';color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“What have we got.” Proclaimed Farnin, his beard almost making it seem like his mouth didn’t move at all.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:16px;font-family:'TimesNewRoman';color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“Well, the enemy have deep red banners, with some sort of Iron crown on it. It is quite crudely made. The armor is decent, however they rely heavy on ‘rush’ tactics, using heavy cannon-fodder, with elites to back them up.” proclaimed Glosur, drawing a rough depiction of the banner. Bowen shuddered, thinking about the soldier that attacked him.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:16px;font-family:'TimesNewRoman';color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“Perhaps the empire of the Far Eraseen? They have an army quite like this.”

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:16px;font-family:'TimesNewRoman';color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“Indeed plausible. For now what he have to worry about is driving them back, they have taken the valley, this is more than any army has done since the ages of old.”

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:16px;font-family:'TimesNewRoman';color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“I agree. I believe if we pull out our cavalry, hit them hard, then back them up with some elite shock infantry from the Arnin infantry regiment, I believe we can do just that.”

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:16px;font-family:'TimesNewRoman';color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">Bowen had no idea about any of this. He was still in a form of daze as he stumbled over to the balcony that overlooked the gate. An area that when they entered held so much light now only saw the battlefield. Glosur and Farnin decided to perform a sneak attack.

==<span style="font-size:21.333333333333332px;font-family:'TimesNewRoman';color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">Chapter 4: The turning of the tide. == <p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:16px;font-family:'TimesNewRoman';color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">As the moon rose over the now charred valley, torches were seen around Kheled-arnin, quiet archers climbed onto the battlements, dressed in black cloaks, they took aim on the invaders below. Sharpened iron arrows rained onto the invaders below. The surprise worked, they ran around like a blind-men without a cane. Just as they were starting to look for their ambushes, the robed assassins were long inside the gates. The siege lasted for days on end, Kheled-arnin was a massive fortress-city, but it had one weakness: Its food relied heavily on the towns in the valley, now that they were cut off, they were slowly being starved out by the besiegers.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:16px;font-family:'TimesNewRoman';color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">The next day, a black flag was hoisted above the camps, it was clear they intended to attack the next day, across the valley large bulking siege equipment was being constructed out of the few remaining trees in the valley, the charred black mess that was once green and beautiful didn’t help the morale of the defending garrison. Glosur walked along the battlements, looking at his soldiers. Few and far between, armor scorched and covered in soot and blood, and helmets half torn. Glosur looked at the position of the camps and got an idea, he called up his men, including Bowen.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:16px;font-family:'TimesNewRoman';color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“Alright, look at the camps. Look at how they are positioned, they are mostly gathered at the left and right side of the valley, out of reach from our defenses, but this also leaves a perfect way to let us get a messenger out to the other strongholds. If we can do this, we can hopefully hold out for reinforcements.”

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:16px;font-family:'TimesNewRoman';color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">Farnin looked at him, as if he were crazy.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:16px;font-family:'TimesNewRoman';color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“Are you joking? They would see us coming a mile away! Opening the gates is not exactly our most needed option right now you know.”

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:16px;font-family:'TimesNewRoman';color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">Glosur chuckled and spoke again

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:16px;font-family:'TimesNewRoman';color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“Who said we had to open the gates? Get the rope, and get a part of about 10 soldiers and a messenger.”

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:16px;font-family:'TimesNewRoman';color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">A long time later when night fell, a single rope landed on the ashen ground. a party of eleven climbed down the rope and landed on the ground, sending ash and debris a small ways. The party, led by a Union general by the name of Galim along with Bowen. Bowen was to travel to the sacketts, and Galim to the other strongholds, slowly walked in the night, careful not to step on anything that would make much noise, such as twigs. The group walked across the burned forest, and they slowly looked on as they were met with the battlefield, decaying soldiers and old armor covered in soot littered the ground. Broken siege equipment stuck out of the ground like spikes waiting for their next victim. They crept along and the further they went, the more bodies appeared. Old friends were occasionally seen in the sea of death and rot. The place had an eerie silence, the very air is thick like gel. Their very movements were hindered by the wind itself, which kicked up miniature dust storms. It seemed like days, but the exit was seen up ahead, the cave entrance now blown to pieces, and widened to two times its old size. It seemed to be in the clear, when out of nowhere enemy soldiers surround the company. At least 25 soldiers easy. One spoke, his voice like ice down their spines.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:16px;font-family:'TimesNewRoman';color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“You have two options. Surrender and be brought to our camp, or die here and join the ash like your kin.”

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:16px;font-family:'TimesNewRoman';color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">Galim walked forward, hands up. As two enemy soldiers were going to capture him, he slammed one across the face, and swept the feet out from the other. The ten soldiers charged soon after. Galim took out a crossbow from his back and shot someone point blank. He looked back at Bowen.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:16px;font-family:'TimesNewRoman';color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“Get to the Sacketts! I will join you! Go!”

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:16px;font-family:'TimesNewRoman';color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">Bowen didn’t stick around, he ran as fast as he could through that tunnel.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;text-indent:36pt;"><span style="font-size:16px;font-family:'TimesNewRoman';color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">Back at Kheled-Arnin, Glosur delved in the great libraries, looking for whatever could be found on the enemy before them. After hours and hours of searching, he came across a piece of parchment, that told of the empire of the Terekites. A secretive race far to the north in the icy wastes. They despise everything about life in the southern lands, and wants nothing but ruin and death to anyone not them. Glosur looked at the blood stained banners they held, and hoped that Galim and Bowen made it through the tunnel. ==<span style="font-size:21.333333333333332px;font-family:'TimesNewRoman';color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">Chapter 5: The maze of Karzathros ==

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:14.666666666666666px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">Bowen walked through the dark, ruined tunnel system that led through the mountains. When he first entered, the tunnels were so terribly damaged that underground water leaked in and was flooding the once great chambers. He tried to remember and look for any remnants of the smooth stone, but found none. Eventually, however, the explosion craters and marks shrunk, and the tunnel began coming back. Dirt and scuff marks over the worn stone, Bowen trudged through. The Carvings that etched along the walls still showed through even in the dark, dreary tunnels. The entire place reeked of gunpowder and smoke and the thickness of the air was so great Bowen coughed every few seconds. The tunnels were deathly silent, the footsteps of Bowen echoing through the halls. Bowen then came to a crossroads, two stone paths leading to areas far unseen. He saw the explosion marks leading down the path to the right. He took a step to the right, and the place shook and the roof fell and closed off the right tunnel. Looking at his only option, Bowen walked down the left path, burnt out torches and unworked footmarks dominating the already narrow tunnels. From there it was a large swathe of confusion, left, right, up, down, north, south, east, west. Dead ends being the least of his worries.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:14.666666666666666px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">The dark halls seemed only to be getting longer, but Bowen failed to notice the strangely increasing amount of spiderwebs spanning across the tunnels. At least not until he tripped on a particularly thick string. Immediately the sound echoed through the webs, and a noise was heard like a thousand legs stirring and speeding down the halls. Bowen knew what they were exactly: Spiders, probably from the caves of the mountains. Large, deadly spiders with poison to liquify. They chanted in high pitch voices,

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;text-indent:36pt;"><span style="font-size:14.666666666666666px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“Feast! Feast!”

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;text-indent:36pt;"><span style="font-size:14.666666666666666px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">The spiders appeared just barely visible in the dark,  but their eyes shining like they glowed. Bowen tried to think what the Sacketts taught him about the spiders, something about riddles, they were dumb and easy to trick, so maybe...

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:14.666666666666666px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“What lovely eyes you have, O spiders of the mountains.”

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:14.666666666666666px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">They hissed and spit, but they looked pleased. The largest, probably the leader, spoke.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:14.666666666666666px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“Yesss...Eyes let us see where others do not, how lovely to see tasty morsel complimenting before his death!”

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:14.666666666666666px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“O! But great spider, why would you eat one such as me? When there are much better and tastier items of food in these mountains!”

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:14.666666666666666px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“Food is hard to catch! We use these tunnels to catch unwilling prey, The spiderslayer doesn't know, no, doesn't know!”

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:14.666666666666666px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“Who is the spiderslayer you speak of O wise and great spider?”

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:14.666666666666666px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“The Silver king! The one the morsels call Glosur!”

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:14.666666666666666px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“How terrible!”

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"><span style="font-size:14.666666666666666px;font-family:Arial;color:#000000;font-weight:400;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">“Yess...Well, this is a nice chat, but now its time for the morsel to die!”

<p dir="ltr" style="margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;"> (It continues bu this is what I have now.) <ac_metadata title="A quick story i&#039;m working on" notify_everyone="1465687241"> </ac_metadata>