Archive for the Fiction Category

Seith and Sword – A Novel of Vengeance In Eastern Midgard

Posted in Fate of the Norns, Fiction, Norse, Publishing, Roleplaying Games, RPG with tags , , , , on July 22, 2015 by Chall

Four months ago I put this blog on hiatus while I worked on a new novel. Said novel is finished, so I now proudly present Seith and Sword. It has been very gratifying to write, especially since it has allowed me to utilize my knowledge of Norse mythology, the Sagas, the Eddas and add my own particular little twist to FoTN setting. I’d like to thank Andrew Valkauskas, who is a most accommodating publisher, he allowed this story to remain under my control with only a few, minor, caveats. I’d like to thank my significant other Jenny Doleman, who put up with long nights of me using her as a sounding board and nipping away in the evenings to write for hours on end. I’d like to thank all my friends who were very patient with my madness. I’d like to thank our backers, without their support this novel would have never been written.

Cooking awesomeness.

Do you smell what the Chall is cooking?
He’s cooking awesomeness.

What will you find in Seith and Sword? Primarily it’s written to show what kind of adventures one could have FoTN. Think of it as a whirlwind tour of eastern Midgard peppered with adventure, joy and loss. I kept the stakes desperate but small. That way I could avoid solving the major plot points of the setting. I did this on purpose, it has always aggravated me when RPG setting novels change the game landscape so drastically that it wipes out everything the player characters could have done.

Seith and Sword avoids two of the most prominent fantasy meta-plots. The crux of the story is not the retrieval or destruction of a powerful magic item. Nor is t a war story. Instead it’s a tale of a family feud, Nibelung VS Volsung, rekindled. It is a quest for vengeance but told from the perspective of those who are fleeing it. It’s a terribly dark story with little breaks of music, laughter and light, just to remind the reader why those fleeing still struggle not to succumb to their ever growing list of powerful foes.

There are no clear cut good guys or bad guys in this novel. No generic Orcs or evil magicians, just good people struggling for survival and doing terrible things. Morality in this novel is messy. What drives the Volsung is a desire for a life of freedom. What drives the Nibelung is glory, anguish, and rumor. I play a lot with rumor in this book. In fact, if you took the rumor as truth then would Seith and Sword would become a tale of good vs. evil. Which is apt, since such stark contrasts tend to break down upon under deep scrutiny.

If this type of story rocks your fancy,  I suggest checking my novel out. You can purchase it in the link above. If you’re a backer or you’ve already purchased this, thank you. Please tell me what you loved and/pr hated about it. I live for your feedback.

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Dark Crystal Fan Fiction: The Hunter And the Shard

Posted in Dark Crystal, Fantasy, Fiction, Publishing with tags , , on March 1, 2014 by Chall

It’s been a while, I’ve been hella busy.

These past few months I’ve been writing up a massive outline for my novel The Childe Hel and waiting for word on Author’s Quest.

Well word just got in and…. I didn’t even make the top 20 list.

Ouch.

Sting of defeat huh?

Still, my heartiest congratulations go to the winners and honorable mentions.

Regardless of how I placed, I’m very proud of this work. If you folks like it let me know and I may continue it in fan fiction form.

It’s sad I can’t make this cannon but I’m richer for the experience in writing it and thankful for the Jim Henson Company for providing this opportunity.

 

Prologue: The Beast of Change

UrVa held the tiny, wooden stick in his lower hands with perfect stillness. His upper hands manipulated hammer and chisel. With gentle taps he shaved the final, miniscule spiral. He passed it to an upper hand and blew off the tiny shavings. He squinted at it amidst the light of the sun globe on his cave’s wall.

The curved lines held a pattern that spoke of long life, yet terminated roughly, spilling currents of the future into the void. UrVa’s creation held beauty and sorrow; he frowned, not entirely pleased with it.

He squinted further as light from the Great Sun spilled into his cozy chamber. He tucked the ‘Gelfling wand’ into his coat and turned to check his gear.

He placed a lower hand on his trusty rucksack to feel the contours of its contents, knowing instinctively it held everything he needed for his journey. He swung the pack onto his back with a smooth, practiced motion.

He lifted his quiver filled with arrows, their silver fetchings glimmering in the morning light. He fitted this onto his hip.

He lifted his bow with an upper hand. It was crafted of crimson yew, its curve smooth and strong. He ran a finger along its string, made from reverse twisted lelrik sinew. He slung the bow over his shoulder.

He swept a lower hand and the sun globe died but his room became brighter with the rising Great Sun.

Now ready, he stepped out into the circular Valley of the Mystics. Its cliffs were worn with time. Sturdy wooden bridges crossed the upper ledges. Stairs carved into the rock led to the upper levels and out of the valley. Numerous caves yawned out of the cliffs; the dwellings of his fellow Uru. The dusty ground was dotted with colorful sand gardens fenced in by large, smooth stones.

The white Great Sun, peaking above the eastern cliffs, usurped the Rose Sun’s dimmer light, turning the sky blue.

The Ritual Guardian, urZah, attended the Dawn Mystery. He held a ladle of green sand and carefully poured it into a white pebble circle, slowly revolving his upper hand so as to rain the grains in a prefect spiral pattern. While doing so he raised his long Uru neck to gaze disapprovingly at urVa.

The Archer let out a rumbling chuckle and ambled gracefully over, admiring his dear friend’s handy work.

“So wise one; what do you see?” urVa’s lips were still but thoughts reached urZah none the less.

UrZah grunted, “Nothing good.”

The Ritual Guardian’s green eyes locked with the Archer’s brown, his lower hand squeezed urVa’s tightly. “The beast of change stirs; it threatens to devour all. You will go, but you will not be safe.”

UrZah’s urgency struck like a spear of ice. The Archer staggered for a moment,but he lurched forward and hugged his friend. “Still, I must go. UrSu calls us to follow our nature, yours is a still pool, mine is a flowing current. If I stay I will betray myself and stagnate.”

He rumbled another chuckle, “Besides, if Change wishes to devour me, best give it a moving target.”

He pulled away to find his friend wearing a dubious look. “Then go, but do not end your own journey. If you do, you’ll be truly lost.”

“With your words, I could never be lost.” Said urVa, patting urZah’s upper hand with his own. “Until we meet again, friend.”

With that, he turned to a stair and made a long accent up, seemingly walking into the Great Sun.

The other Uru stepped out of their caves to watch him go; some from the upper levels, others from the lower. Their long necks stretched, to get a better look at their departing brother.

UrSu the Master stood beside urZah, his gentle hand resting on the Ritual Guardian’s back, his expression resigned with a hint of pride. UrZah’s gaze drifted back to his sand painting, searching its spiral for a sign of hope against the foreseen.

Chapter 1: Nari the Silfa

As Shabasha sailed into Vastel-Re, the tiny, purple Dying Sun followed the Rose Sun as it sunk beyond the plain of Skarith in the east.

Shabasha was a seapede, large as a tall ship, with an enormous gray-blue, round shell upon whom stood two sturdy masts with triangular, sapphire sails. Two decks wound around her; an upper enveloped her shell, and a lower layalong her long, segmented back. Her round, smooth, chitinous head was raised above the water like a figurehead, her antenna twitched casually.

Along her decks and masts ran tan Sifa Clan Gelflings, keeping Shabasha’s sails taught and guiding her into port. While they worked they sang an eveningsong; a brisk ditty about Ekka the Tracker.

Vastel-Re was a sprawling city. Its harbor was expansive and docked numerous vessels, though none as exotic as Shabasha. Its buildings were solid, wooden constructs scattered about haphazardly, the tallest being five stories. Lights lit the windows and smoke rose from the chimneys. Gelflings of all colors and clans swarmed the streets, their voices rose in chatter and eveningsong. The smell of the sea and fresh fish hung in the air.

Beyond Vastel-Re lay Skarith, its fields rich with wheat, orchards laden with fruit, quaint Glefling farms strewn all about.

Beyond Skarith, towering over Vastel-Re, even at this distance, was the Castle of the Crystal with its many towers zigzagging up into the sky and its walls pulsing with a haunting, purple luminescence.

A group of Woodland Clan Gelfling guards waited for Shabasha as she drifted to her dock. They were five; all dressed in green cob-leather, complete with bronze hawk helms and armed with halberds – their cross-shell blades pointed forward officiously. Their captain, who had a very crisp, blonde beard, stood at the head.

The Sifa sailors regarded them with disdain. One rough elder buzzed down on her sea-gray wings just to glare.

“All this to collect port tribute Joseph? I’m honored.” Called a light, mocking voice from the lower deck.

It belonged to a fit Sifia Gelfling. Young, but with tufts of silver in her black, shoulder-length hair. A silver torc hugged her neck. Set in it was a black stone with a silver wind glyph. She was dressed in the same loose-fitting garb as the rest of the sailors.

At her side was the snow-white Grotton Gelfling, Kylx,dressed in a long black coat with silver trim, a wide-brimmed hat and, most noticeably, a red blindfold.

“We’re here by order of skekSil, don’t tarry us.” said the Grotton Gelfling, his gentle voice tinged with a slight edge as he waved his hand dismissively.

Shabasha turned her massive head towards the guards and chittered loudly with annoyance. A crystal-backed, black idrell landed on the Sifia’s shoulder and squawked.

The guards stumbled at Shabasha’s disapproval and lowered their pikes. The captain stood his ground and, as if lecturing a child, said “Nari the Silfa and her pet cave gob. Yes, you will pay us port tribute but we’re also here for a deeper reason.”

“Oh?” Nari replied, waving for her crew to lower the tribute, “Better be quick, I have business at the Castle.”

The sailors lowered three barrels to the docks. One of the guards knocked on one and it hummed. He grinned, “Echo Wine.”

“That’ll do.” Said the captain. To Nari, he added “It’s my duty to inform you that Castle of the Crystal is closed, Emperor’s orders. No one is to go in or out.”

With a sneer he added “Least of all the Silfa.”

“Oh?” Nari replied haughtily. “We’ll see about that.”
Twenty hearty Woodland guards stood before the castle gate. The castle’s crystal walls shed eerie purple light. Two large sun globes on either side spread a pool of true illumination.

Nari and Kylx approached them boldly.

“Out of the way.” Nari waved, “We have business with Master skekSil.”

The guards tightened formation, their bronze armor clanking. The one at their head lowered his pike “No one passes.”

Nari glared and replied “Listen you garthdee, we have a delivery for the Chamberlain,” she waved a large leather purse before him, “so let us through or you’ll answer to him.”

“You’re calling me a garthdee?” The Woodland said dryly, “We serve the Emperor, you serve his flower maid.”

Nari’s brown eyes narrowed and her hand went to her knife.

Kylx, blindfolded or no, sensed this. He sent her a silent, mental-missive. ‘Sister, don’t. There’s nothing to be gained by causing trouble.’

Nari squeezed the hilt of her sheathed knife, then let go. “I’d wonder why the Castle’s in lock down but the answer’s obvious.” she offhandedly commented while casually hanging her pouch on her belt.

“Woodland has failed the Emperor.

Again.”

It was the guards’ turn to squeeze their hilts.

“Nari, don’t.” Kylx warned.

Nari grabbed her brother’s hand, “This wouldn’t happen if he hired a Spiriton troop.”

Then she, with Kylx, ran. About half of the guards shouted with outrage and gave chase.
Nari had changed into a tight, black, sleeveless tunic, with a red cord belt and bear legs. Her hair was tied in a pony tail. Her gray, gossamer wings folded across her back. The torque, with her wind birth charm, stayed on.

Kylx and Aunt Ada, the rough elder from before, exited Shabasha’s shell.

Kylx’s blindfold was off revealing his wide, pure black eyes. Ada was equipped with a wooden bracer, embedded in black stone with a sliver patience glyph.

“Nebrie steaks with my shh root rub, as ordered.” Kylx said, tossing a tightly bound, waterproof sack at his sister.

She caught it and tied it to her belt, opposite of her treasure purse. “Thank you, brother.”

To Ada she said “If I’m not back before the next sunset Shabasha goes to Kylx, take care of them both.”

She patted the seapede’s neck and Shabasha cheek-rubbed Nari in return, nearly knocking the giggling Gelfling into the drink.

Kylx stared off at the distant castle. “Woodland’s swarming, it’d be best if we waited for the castle to open.”

“He’s right.” Ada added.

Nari held out her hand for Nirqu, the idrell to land on. She scratched the bird’s feathers and the idrell cooed softly.

“Are you even listening?” Kylx exclaimed.

Nari touched Kylx’s shoulder and Nirqu walked onto it. She then answered in an all business tone. “When did I say we’d deliver the Donidam egg?”

“By tonight.” Kylx said, shaking his head in exacerbation.

“When have we ever failed the Master?”

“Never.”

Nari patted his cheek. “There you go. I’m listening but your words are nonsense.”

“I promised Mother I’d look after you. Ada, can you talk some sense into her?”

Ada chuckled dryly, “Oh no. She’s never listened to me.”

“Just be careful.”

Nari grinned sweetly and picked up her knife and bow. The bow was the greater, made from rare black yew, strung by wire vine which lived off the suns and its ever living stave. She then made a great show of putting both on the deck and stepping away. “There, now if I’m caught no one can accuse me of being an assassin.”

“Wonderful.” Kylx huffed.

Nari kissed him on the cheek, checked the pouches on both hips, picked up her snorkel and dove into the Silver Sea.
It took a good hour for Nari to traverse the chill, night-dark harbor and a further up the Vastel river. She spent most of it underwater, taking breaths through her snorkel and then diving long and deep.

Every time she peeked above the surface, she saw Woodland with their sun tubes shining on land and water, combing the docks and questioning everyone they met.

Eventually, the Castle of the Crystal loomed before her, blotting out the stars. Its purple glow giving no real light. The parapet sun tubes, on the other hand, illuminated the river nicely.

She’d get one shot at this and surfacing in the light would lead to arrows, then drowning, then death.

‘Ketch.’ Nari silently swore.

She patted her treasure purse, closed her eyes, sucked in a large breath and dove under the surface.

She swam quickly, deeply, blindly. She clawed water until her fingers slid along the slimy river bottom. She continued, faster, farther, until she felt rough rocks.

Her lungs were screaming but she kept her breath.

Nari clambered up the stone, feeling frantically for the opening. It took an agony of forever to find the sharp tooth and the rough lip of the monster face that was the sewer drain.

She pulled herself inside its mouth.

The current pushed against her. A gurgleof air escaped, her heart pounded. At near panic she pulled herself up as fast as she could. Suddenly, her mouth broke surface but bumped slick stone preventing the rest of her from rising.

“Good enough.” She thought, deep breathing in the putrid sewer air.

Once she had calmed, with some reluctance, Nari dove down and swam along the pitch black tunnel, letting her snorkel scrap against the jagged ceiling and taking breaths of the toxic air available when the snorkel broke surface.

Eventually, the tunnel opened into a large pool. She could see two, bright, sun globes beckoning her to land and, almost as importantly, offered the promise of fresh air.

She grinned in exhaustion. ‘Nearly done. Hope you guys are hungry.’

Nari took a deep breath, dove and swam the length of the pool. Within moments she felt rough rock on the opposite side. She untied the nebrie steak pouch, pulled herself up and, with her head still underwater, flung the sack onto the landing above.

She pushed herself down. Water dulled the chorus of yaps and growls thatechoed above her. She held herself deep for a good three minutes, her Sifa endurance sustaining her. Then, when the barks and snarls were silent, she quickly pushed herself to the surface.

She climbed onto a rocky landing. Two sun globes, on either side of an archway, lit the dark stone. Above her, dim purple crystal shone. At her feet a dozen large puff balls – garthdees, to be precise – lay around the shredded steak bag, snoring, making pitiful whimpers, little paws moving. Very cute but Nari knew if she’d surfaced with them awake, she’d suffer their many, many teeth.

She had just caught her breath when she heard rushed footfalls and saw flashes of light from the archway.

‘Ketch!’ Nari leaped, buzzed her wings, and flew straight over the water and towards the western wall.

A moment later, five Woodland rushed in, their sun tubes running along the ground.

“Hieke, Fizgig!” cried one as he knelt beside two of the larger garthdees.

Three flashed their beams on the water.

One unfolded her green wings and took to the air, her beam dancing across the ceiling.

The one by the garthdees sighed, “Only sleeping, they’re only sleeping.”

“Yani, anything up there?” called another.

She swooped around the chamber, her light strafing above. “No, looks all clear.”

Nari, meanwhile, had already pushed herself through a tight, shadow-covered crack in the wall.
Nari crept through the western crack, up the rocky shoot and into the Shaft of the Crystal.

It was vast, wider than a house. It was hot. Thra’s burning blood lay at the bottom, its glow staining the walls red. It was deep Nari’s ascent would be too long for her liking.

The Sifa jumped, spread her wings and flew, the rising thermals helping her.

While she flew she kept her eyes on the wall, never looking up. IT was up there, the Dark Crystal. Its presence felt like a cold sun. It took all her will not to peek.

‘If Gelfling looks the Crystal will entrance her and she will fall.’

Master skekSil’s warning, Nari heeded it well.

She spied a large steel door on the western side of the shaft, skekTek’s secret lab. Not her destination, she was forbidden from entering and had no interest in doing so. She flew past, weaving slowly and carefully around the large crystals hanging before it.

She ascended further, sweat dripping from her everywhere. The norther wall held a small, shallow alcove. She flew forward and grasped its warm surface. She tugged on a small hand hold and part of it swung in and she ducked inside.
Nari had to wait with her back against the secret door. She heard constant footfalls and the occasional snatch of conversation.

Woodland knew someone had penetrated the Castle.

In spite of the wait, she enjoyed her rest in this cool crook; the walls around her pulsed purple, coloring her florescent.

As night waned, a stone of anxiety rolled in Nari’s stomach. Regardless, she would not move until the time was right. Woodland voices still echoed in the hall beyond.

Only when these voices were a mere murmur, did she trigger the door and step lightly into the hallway.

Nari sneaked quickly through, the red carpet muffing her footfalls.

Finally she arrived at a familiar wooden door with gold filigree.

Before she could knock, voices rose in the passageway and shadows danced across the wall. She was about to dive for cover when the great door creaked open and five uniformed Podlings dragged her inside.
The Podlings were half Nari’s height, despite this they Gelfling-handled her in the waiting chamber. Three branched off to push the door shut and two escorted her behind a wooden dressing blind that had pastoral Skarith painted on the outside.

“A thousand pardons. The Master’s expecting you, he ordered us to prepare you for his august presence.”

Nari fought down her fight instinct. “A-alright. Good. Fine. Get me ready.” She let out a deep relaxing breath.

The Podling’s uniforms were the same for the boys and girls: a long black coat with silver buttons and a pillbox hat on their bald, pink heads.

The speaker pulled Nari over a grate. Her partner briskly climbed a ladder and swiftly dumped a bucket of hot water over her.

The Sifa yelped.

In the background the other Podlings were shooing Woodland away.

“It is Master’s business.”

“You have no authority here.”

“Go back to your dust and hallways Wooldand.”

As the guards grumbled away, Speaker Podling stripped Nari of her tunic, scrubbed and dried her. She then helped her into a regal, hooded, green Woodland robe. Meanwhile, Ladder Poding tied Nari’s hair into two, neat braids.

Speaker, with a beneficent smile, announced “Ah, now you’re ready. Please. This way.”

Ladder Podling handed Nari her treasure purse.

“Thank you.” she said graciously.

Nari was escorted beyond the waiting room and into the main chamber. It was grand; the size of a Gelfling mansion. Stately, white marble covered the crystal walls with fragrant and colorful flowers crawling up it. The ceiling, though still pulsing purple, was lit by a grand chandelierand warmth came from a cozy fireplace to the right. To the left, a stately door. In front of Nari sat a huge polished, black marble desk behind which stood the master.

SkekSil towered like a tree. His beak was sheathed in gold. His face black as night, his green eyes held genius mixed with kindness. He was dressed befitting a Master, in a grand, royal, red robe.

“Hmmmm, yes you are here. This is good. Sit, be welcome.” His voice was slippery, his talk strange but his spirit spoke strong. Nari felt a great weight lift off her shoulders, as if returning home. She would be no less comfortable in the arms of her father.

She climbed the Gelfing chair in front of the great desk. It was three Gelfings high, its seat firm and straight, it was bolted to the floor so there was no danger of falling.

When Master sat, he was still taller than she.

“Please, Gelfing will tell of her journey, yes?”

Nari lowered her gaze respectfully. “Master, we swiftly retrieved the Donidam egg as requested. It was a long, dangerous journey. The Donidam nearly killed my brother, I was forced to slay her. We returned to Vastel-Re just in time but Wooldand’s locked down the Castle, I had to use the secret way.”

“Yes, very troubling that is, lots of nasty problems in the castle. Hmmm… dangerous times. I am glad my Silfa is safe.”

Nari lifted her treasure pouch to him. “Master, did I make it in time? Is this to your liking?”

SkekSil’s claw hooked the loop of the satchel. With dexterous fingers he opened it and a brown egg, large for a Gelfing but tiny for him, rolled into his hand. He held it between thumb and fore-claw, brought his green eye to bear, and examined carefully its gold flecked surface.

Nari sat on the edge of her seat.

SkekSil slowly smiled. He carefully put the egg back in its purse and tucked it in his pocket. Sounding pleased he answered. “Yes, of course, my Silfa never fails me. Yes, you do your parents proud.”

Nari bowed and saluted with her fist to her heart. “All glory to my Master, I live to serve.”

She then risked a questioning glance. “Master? May I know why Woodland’s in such a stir?”

SkekSil looked sideways at Nari, his expression suddenly troubled.

Nari immediately bowed her head. “My apologies Master, if it’s not for me to know, it’s not for me to know.”

“Hmmm…not that. Master wants to tell his Gelfling but is afraid such tidings will hurt her. She who has worked so hard for skekSil, she who deserves no pain.”

Nari regarded her Master with the utmost determination and replied “Master, I’ve weathered everything from the Swamps of Sog to the Claw Mountains, bad news is nothing to me.”

“Gelfling leaves me no choice.” skekSil sighed. He then leaned forward with his hands folded in front of him, his voice lowered to almost a whisper. “A Woodland has stolen a Shard of Lies from skekTek. Rian has betrayed his master… Rian has fled. Poor foolish Gelfing knows not what he has wrought.”

Nari giggled “Hah, so that’s it. They dropped the goof and have to be competent for once.”

“That is not all.” skekSil added, his tone sorrowful. “Skesis designed the Shard of Lies as a trap. It was meant to draw in the Hunter, imprison him so he no longer kills Gelfling. Crystal of Lies is incomplete, it will not trap the Hunter, only lure him. Rian and all of Thra is in danger.”

Nari gripped the armrests of her seat. “The Hunter?”

“No, no.” crooned skekSil, “Nari should not think of this. The Hunter is dangerous, the Hunter has already killed Nari’s family. She should not go after Rian, it will only lead her to suffering.”

Nari broke gaze with him, gritting her teeth said said. “Master, I know how dangerous the Hunter is. If this Rian is still alive, he’s good. So good that the only Gelfling who can catch him is me.”

When Nari looked up, steel flashed in her brown eyes. “Loose me on him, Master. I’ll capture Rian, secure the shard and, ancestors willing, finish the Hunter for good.”

SkekSil rose and put his two black claws over his heart. “No, no… Nari will be killed. SkekSil couldn’t bear to lose his Silfa. She is like his child… it will pain him gravely.”

Nari stood on her seat “Master, please. I’ve never failed you. Uou’ll get the shard and Rian.

I have to do this.”

The Master shook his head sadly, “Master pleads but child will disobey. Best to give child everything he knows to help her survive.

Gelfing will open her mind.”

Nari smiled in relief, “Of course, Master.” and she knelt in her chair.

SkekSil leaned forward and focused.

Pure thought and will ran into Nari’s mind.

“Rian. He’s slightly younger than Nari. He has a light complexion, clever blue eyes, short red hair. He was wearing a guard’s uniform. He’s cunning and fast.

The Shard of Lies. A long, clear, knife shaped crystal, bigger than Nari’s hand but shorter than a Gelfing sword. It was stolen from skekTek’s lab a day ago. Once it has been retrieved be very careful it will show you visions, these will be lies, do not fall for them or all is lost.

The Hunter . ..

Nari suddenly trembled, visions of shining, white, feline mask and scorpion tail rose to the surface of her memory:

“Nari, Kylx run!” cried her mother in anguished fear.

She felt her stomach drop. She squeezed Kylx’ hand and ran.

“We can’t leave them!” he screamed.

“Promise me you’ll look after each other!” And then a scream of pain cut suddenly short.

“Mother! I promise, I swear I’ll look after her.” Kylx sobbed back.

“Just run!

Shabasha!”

 

Kylx leaned his chair back against Shabasha’s shell.

“Ow!” he winced as the Great Sun rose in the east. He quickly shut his black eyes and tied the red blindfold back in place. He tugged the brim of his hat to further block the light.

He felt Ada’s firm hand on his shoulder.

Kylx sighed. “She’s too stubborn. I would have felt better if she had taken her weapons. Woodland holds long hate, they’ll kill her if they find her.”

“She’s here.” replied Ada’s aged voice. “Your sister always makes it back.”

Kylx stood and grasped Ada’s arm, “Let me see please.”

He sensed Ada’s nod and his mind reached out. He grunted with effort, aunt’s mind was as still and calm as granite but powerful worry drove him and within moments he was able to share her sight.

Ada was watching a Woodland captain, her green hood pulled deep, shadows hiding her face. She was walking quickly for Shabasha.

Ada had noticed she was alone and she moved with the long strides of a Sifa.

After another moment they both knew for sure, as her spirit warmed their minds.

“Lower the gangplank.” Ada ordered.

The cousins did so, none questioning and a few sharing secret smiles as the Captain came on board.
In the Captain’s quarters, on the upper deck, Nari peeled off her Woodland robe and cloak. She held it frowning. Master had given it to her, yes it could prove useful but… she spat in it, folded it and stuffed it out the porthole, wrinkling her nose as she did so.

“Glad to have you back, Captain.” said Ada while handing Nari sensible, Sifa garb.

Kylx grunted in agreement.

Nari pulled on her shirt, spun and hugged her brother. “See? Everything turned out.”

“It could have easily not.” Kylx grumbled, but hugged back.

Nari pulled up her trousers and tied her sash around her waist. She grinned at Ada. “Glad to be back. We’ve got work from Master. Set sail for Port Ethdelg immediately.”

“Yes Captain.”

There was no salute, such things are useless with family. Ada marched outside and yelled the order.

Nari closed the door, her expression turning grave. “Kylx sit down. We need to talk.”
SkekSil held the ringer for a full second. A moment later the peephole, in the sturdy steel door, telescoped at him and the gruff bark of skekTek came over the comm. “It’s late. What do you want?”

SkekSil, who had removed his gold beak covering, revealing the green underneath, wore his most patient smile and said. “SkekSil has brought something for his good friend, yes? Something he’s been looking for for a long time, hmmm?”

He could feel the wheels of skekTek’s thought turning, literally. Long ago he’d planted a telepathic barb in his mind and it had grown deep.

“Fine, come in.”

The door ka-chunked and swung open.

The lab’s visitor chamber was fully armored, steel walls covered every inch of purple crystal. A dozen, obvious camera lenses stuck out of the wall. The door beyond, into the inner lab, was fully sealed with an imposing steel spinner lock.

SkekTek stood before him. He had a fair complexion, a long face, pointed beak, his scrawny hands were clasped together outside a cream colored, stitched robes. He smelled of cleaning chemicals.

SkekSil ambled forward, pushing skekTek aside with pure casualness.

SkekTek snarled/snorted and pressed a solid button, the hallway door ka-chuncked closed. He spun on his guest. “Well, lets see it.”

“Of course.” skekSil crooned. He pulled the treasure pouch out of his pocket and handed it to the Scientist’s eagerly waiting claw.

He tore open the bag and held the donidam egg between thumb and for-claw. He raised it to his monocled eye which telescoped to get a better look. Up close, small golden sparks arched between the brown egg’s golden fleks.

SkekTek did a double-take, examined the egg more closely, grinned triumphantly and pumped his free fist in the air with a victorious “Haaaaaaah!”

“Yes.Yes. This is perfect. This will complete my Nionsork nicely.” He tucked it into his pocket.

He then snapped his attention to skekSil “How did you get it?”

“Hmm, your ally has his ways.” he answered smugly.

“Whatever, what’s important is you got it and gave it to me. Now if skekMal can retrieve the Shard my good mood will be complete.”

“Hmmm, unless your true ally finds it first.” skekSil added.

SkekTek raised an eyebrow and suddenly glared accusingly at ‘his friend’. “What? You already have it? Did you steal it just to get a rise out of me? The Emperor will hear of this.”

SkekTek’s jolt of suspicion nearly knocked the mind bard loose, this would not do.

“No, nooo. skekSil is your friend, be at peace. SkekSil only has your best interest at heart. He only meant, just as he found the egg, he may also be able to find the Shard.” The Chamberlain pushed, with steady pressure, the power of his will through his words.

SkekTek still glared, but his shoulders slumped.

SkekSil put his claw gently on his ‘friend’s’ shoulder and guided the Scientist to his uncomfortable metal seat.

“SkekMal is nasty, brutish, stupid.” he added with venom. “Clever Gelfing may give him the slip, if so, skekSil’s methods will triumph. Many eyes are better than two hmmm?”

Feeling skekTek’s suspicions ebb, skekSil risked a thought nudge, ‘Now give my my reward you ingrate.’

SkekTek sat, thought, fidgeted and finally said

“Of course, you’re right. Enough of this, now for your reward, what will it be?”

SkekSil feigned pleasant surprise. “Your friend is getting old… bones ache… hmmm? Your friend requires essence.”

The Scientist glared at Chamberlain for a long moment and barked “Essence is only for the Emperor.” At which they both let out screeching cackles.

“Heh, hah, yes, for the Donidam egg, essence. The finest in my stock.” SkekTek wiped a tear from his good eye.

He then hammered a button and roared “Slave 136, get out here!”

A small door slid open in the far wall. Out of it walked an emaciated Gelfling.

Her hair was stiff, most of it had fallen out. Her once brown eyes were covered with a milky film. She wore ripped seafaring clothes. Around her left arm was a wooden bracer, embedded in it was a black stone etched with a silver key glyph. She had a more than a passing resemblance to Nari. She held a silver tray, on it a clear flask that contained a blue, luminescent liquid.

SkekSil’s green eyes flashed and his lips tightened.

Was this an insult?

He forced himself to relax. No, of course not. This was simply skekTek’s way of subconsciously struggling against his mental influence. SkekSil made a silent note to be more careful exerting his will against his ‘friend.’

“Sifa Clan.” skekTek said with pride. “Their essence is like a fine wine. It gets better with age.” He reached down and snatched the flask. The husk that was Nari’s mother let out a forsaken whine.

“This particular vintage was harvested by skekMal. I agree he is bestial but he has his use.”

SekSil took the offered essence. The aroma was like the sea but it warmed his beak.

“Hmmm. One can suppose.” skekSil said dismissively, eying his former Silfa.

It briefly occurred to him that he could tuck the essence away, perhaps even use it to reconstitute his servant. Nari would be over the moon.

The Chamberlain snickered. Like that would happen.

“Often poor, poor people outlive their use. What happens then? Hmmm?”

He drank the Gelfing’s essence before her despairing eyes, enjoying the strong tones of savory betrayal.

Chapter 2: Eka The Tracker

“. . . so we’re heading for Port Ethdelg.”

Kylx rubbed his pointed ear thoughtfully, looking troubled. Nari sat on her bed, her exhausted, shoulders slumped, her head lowered and eyes closed.

Finally he broke the silence, his tone cautious, “Makes sense. If I were on the run that’d be the first place I’d go. I could catch a ship and disappear into the Silver Sea, run for the Black River or, if I’m desperate, flee into Dark Wood and hope Spiriton finds my pursuers before finding me.

The only catch is; what if he’s still in Vastel-Re?”

“If he was, he’d have been caught. Woodland’s everywhere.”

After a moment she shrugged.

“That and I have a hunch.”

More tense, thoughtful silence passed.

“You’re not going to try to talk me out of it?” Nari asked.

“No.” Kylx snapped. “The Hunter killed our parents. We capture Rian, use the Shard of Lies as bait, then we finish the Hunter for good.”

Nari sighed, “I’m sorry. I should have known you’d be for this.

I’m their natural child but I ran when we could have fought . You, you wanted to stay and fight or die. Foundling or no, you’re Mom and Dad’s true son.” she said, rubbing her arm and avoiding Kylx’s gaze, blindfold or no.

“Ketch,” Kylx hissed, he reached over and hugged Nari tight. He pulled off his blindfold, wincing in the cabin’s light, she glanced up at him wiping a tear away.

Locking gazes with her he asked “How many times do I have to say this? You’re my true sister. If you hadn’t pulled me along I’d be dead. Now, though; we’re stronger and we can fight the Hunter on our own terms.” He smiled fiercely.

Nari, grinned back wickedly. “Yeah, everything bleeds.”

A rough knock at the door startled them both.

“Captain, the crew wishes journeysong.” Ada’s tone left it in question who was in command.

“We’ll be right out.” Called Nari, grabbing her hornpipe off its wall mount.
The Rose and Great suns were near to passing by the time the crew gathered on the lower deck for journey song. They carried various instruments, mostly pipes and drums. Kylx held the grandest, a lelrik bone sitar, treasured by his adopted father before him.

The sails were dropped, Shabasha drifted along the shore of the Silver Sea. Some distance behind her lay Vastel-Re, to port and following her on her southward journey, a long stretch of beech bordering the Dark Wood.

The Sifa gathered around Ada silently. Kylx strummed a haunting cord from his sitar and together the Gelfings rose in music. It was a fast-paced tune. Ada’s alto rose above it, her voice calling tones that flowed along the music perfectly. Nari’s horn pipe occasionally surfaced for its own solo.

No words in this journeysong but these Gelfings, as with all Gelflings, were connected by it. This wordless song spoke of myth and rumor. Recent rumor, in fact. It told of the mysterious hero the Crimson Star, how he tricked and stole from the ravenous Rebog Mother, to return the Woodland Queen’s crown. Ada’s voice was joyous as she sang. This particular song was a good omen.
The Rose Sun set in the east, lighting Port Ethdelg in its crimson hew. The port was a compact affair of one to two story stone buildings. Its docks held ample room for Shabasha but only a single Sifa approached for dock tribute.

“Hail grandfather.” called Nari respectfully, as Shabasha lowered her neck so she could walk down it.

“Hail child.” responded the old dock master with equal respect.

When Nari stepped off the dock Shabasha chittered, Nari reached up and scratched under her chin, the ship grmmmed affectionately in response. Beyond her, on the north Ethdelg beach, Nari spied a cluster of tiny sloops and a large crowd somberly lighting them on fire.

“My deepest condolences grandfather.” she said with true sympathy.

“Thank you, child.” replied the dock master.

Nari turned to her crew. “Three barrels of echo wine and two chests of bronze shell.”

“Aye, aye.” replied Ada and the rest of the crew snapped to it.

Shabasha lowered her neck so Kylx could walk onto the dock, Nirqu on his shoulder, nuzzling under his hat.

“May we bear witness?” Nari asked.

The grandfather, eying the generous bounty being set before him, bowed before her and said “That you may.”
Seven ships were lit and set out onto the water. The crowd, a mix of young and old, stood tearfully watching them go. Mothers and fathers embraced and howled. Grandparents stared off with bitterness. Children clung to their parents. The Great Sun sank into the western Silver Sea. The chill wind kissed body and soul while carrying the scent of funerary incense.

Nari and Kylx stood far apart. Nari’s head was bowed, in her hands Nirq was cupped, she rubbed his feathers fretfully with her thumbs.

Kylx unbound his eyes and squinted even in this dim light. He touched Nari gently on the shoulder.

“I’ll talk to them. I’m a stranger, the ghosts won’t see me.”

Nari glanced up, biting her lip. “Thank you.”

Kylx smiled gently, turned, and with long strides walked towards the funeral.

He knew well Sifa tradition and superstition. However, while he grew up surrounded in it, he was never expected to comply. It left him an outsider, but such a state had its advantages.

An elderly couple watched him approach. When he got closer their expressions turned surprised and fearful.

“Grandfather, grandmother.” Kylx greeted, in a perfect Sifa, dialect.

Grandfather squinted at him behind his glasses, then a relieved smile lit his face “Oh,” he chortled, “You’re so pale, I thought you were a ghost.”

Grandmother nudged him and hissed “Lale, don’t be rude.”

“I’m not being rude!”

Kylx politely cleared his throat.

“Oh yes, how can we help you deary?” Grandmother asked.

“My sincerest condolences, I’m curious of the cause of this terrible calamity and hope there’s a way I, a humble finder, can help.”

“A finder!” Lale gasped, seizing Kylx’s forearm in a boney grip.

“No Lale, you’ll put this fine young man in danger.”

Lale payed her no heed, “A finder! Yes, you can help. Come with me.”

“There!” The old Gelfling jabbed a boney finger at a farhome. It was a story high, square, solidly built. They were on the southwest corner, or what used to be it, it had a large hole, as if something crashed through on the inside. The debris had been cleared and sat in neat piles to either side. Three saw horses in a semi-circle blocked this new entrance. A guard, dressed in tsambertis hide armor, armed with spear, holding a lantern, stood watch.

He walked quickly up to the group. “What’s this? Clear off.”

“This is Nari the Silfa, she’s here to deal our vengeance.” Lale said, gesturing beside him.

Nari stepped fully into the torch light. On her shoulder hung her her black yew bow, her brown eyes glimmered proudly, her wind charm gleamed at her neck. Kylx stood at her side, his wide brimmed hat hiding his eyes in shadow. Nirq, resting on his shoulder, glared at the impudent young Gelfing.

He stumbled back, stammering “The Silfa? My apologies. How can I be of service?”

Nari brushed the guard aside and gestured for Kylx to step forward.

Her brother looked slowly, carefully, around the area and since they were already sharing sight Nari saw all he discovered.

There were gouge marks in the walls of the farhome. Gelfling prints were everywhere, obscuring the direction the beast took. The ground, to the north, a stone’s throw away, was stained with pools of blood, saw dust had been sown to sop them up.

Nari spun back on the guard. “The creature, was it chasing someone?”

“Y-yes, a Woodland, he ran out that door, well there used to be a door there, and the Hunter busted through close on his heels.”

“Did the Hunter catch him?”

The Guard shook his head. “No. Our warriors fought it to a standstill, then. . .” He paused, seemingly at a loss for words.

“Out with it!”

“The Hunter changed before our eyes. When it crashed through the wall it was an enormous phantag, whose face was a shining mask. Then, when our warriors harried it, it suddenly turned into a sleek tesongir, also with a shining mask, whose claws and poisoned tail killed seven of our best.

My uncle was one of them.

He chased Woodland into Dark Wood. May they both run afoul of Spiriton.” He let this all out with shuddering breath. His pained expression was one Nari knew too well.

She clapped him on the shoulder and, in a warmer tone, said “Thank you, we have faced this thing before and plan to again.

May your Uncle’s praises be sung aloft morning, noon and nightsong.”
Grandmother had insisted they take sugar biscuits. Nari found them sweet and delectable. Unsurprising since Grandmother wore the Hearth charm.

She smirked at Kylx, “These are a match for yours.”

Kylx had already finished his four and wiped the crumbs off the map. “Perhaps, but I’d like to see her beat my shepherd’s pie.”

Nari giggled. “After we deal with the Hunter we’ll come back and have a contest.”

Ada said nothing, she was too busy munching.

They were back in the captain’s quarters. There were no lights aside from the silver stars that shone through the porthole. All three shared Kylx’s vision and thus saw everything in prefect detail.

“Klyx and I will go here.” On the map, Nari tapped an outpost a day’s journey from Port Ethdelg, Yrtep Hall.

“You’ll have command of Shabasha and go here.” she swept her hand southeastwards and tapped the mouth of the Black River.

“Question the Podlings, see if Rian’s already passed by. If so, leave word and chase. If not, wait for him or us.”

“You two tracking the Hunter into the arms of Spiriton, I don’t like it.” Ada said plainly.

“It’s our best shot.

If Rian’s still alive, he’s in or passed Yrtep Hall. Kylx needs to go because his eyes will spot the Hunter before he spots us. I’m the only one going with because, if Spiriton does find us, they won’t see two Gelflings of different clans as invaders.”

Ada snorted. “No they’ll see you as easy pickings.”

Nari rolled her eyes, “We’ll be fine.”
The night march through Dark Wood went uneventfully. The tall trees hung in close. Their footfalls were muffled by moss. Crickets chirped, a mound mammoth lurched in the background but came nowhere near.

Thanks to Klyx’s sight they kept near, not on, the trail at a steady pace.

No sign of Rian. No sign of the Hunter.

The Great Sun’s light was peaking through the trees when Nari signaled a halt.

“Switch to my eyes. We’ll keep walking for Ytep.”

Kylx nodded and tied on his blindfold.

After a hushed morningsong they the continued on.

The birds called, the forest rustled with life, a large hungdin slithered by on the other side of the path. Kylx and Nari felt sleep claw at their minds but fought it off with a brisk pace and cold moke tea.

Suddenly Nirq hopped on Nari’s shoulder and softly pecked her pointed ear. She grabbed Kylx and pulled them both further off the path.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nirq spotted something.”

They both dove deep into foliage, Nari’s brown eyes sweeping the path, the forest beyond, and behind them.

She squeezed Kylx’s arm.

Two pale Gelflings, Spiriton Clan, were creeping through the wood on Nari’s side of the trail. They were young. They carried weapons, one a bronze sword, the other a stone axe. They were wrapped in tambertis hide and wore green war paint. They were moving, in a cautious fashion, towards them; anxious, excited looks on their faces.

:They’re babes.” Scoffed Kylx.

“It’s the grownups we can’t see that I’m worried about.”

Nari hefted her bow, her other hand hovering over her quiver.

“You don’t think they’re coming to say hello?” Her brother quipped dryly.

“If we make it to Yrtep we can claim hospitality, before that. . .” she let loose an arrow, it thunked into a young one’s forearm which bled and he dropped his sword. Immediately she loosed another and it punched clean through the other’s thigh.

“We’re fair game.” Nari grabbed her brother’s hand and ran towards the two wounded warriors.

They cried, looks of shock on their faces, and rolled out of the way.

Suddenly beyond them an elder Spiriton leaped over a log. He held a wiry strength, wore a long, curled, white mustache, bore a jagged fang-shaped scar on his left shoulder, was wrapped in the same sort of armor, and carried a spear. He let out a war-cry and launched the spear at Nari.

She dove one way and pushed Kylx the other, the spear sailing between them.

“Ketch! Did they send the two pups to flush us out?”

“What do we do?”

“Follow me, we’ll kill the old one and break the circle.”

She could hear other war-cries around her. Nari rolled to her feet, unsheathed her dagger, let out a roar and charged the veteran, Kylx following closely behind.

“Why aren’t you shooting him?”

“Can’t shoot and run.”

The Spiriton hefted a war club and charged straight for Nari, a look of grim determination on his face. Nari’s intense brown eyes locked with his blue. At the last moment she darted forward with her full speed, ducking inside club reach, her knife slipped through the hide and clank.

“Ketch!”

“Hah!” the Spiriton roared, he grabbed her by the scruff of the neck and threw her backwards. His club thumped right where she was, a split-second after she rolled out of the way.

Nari hopped to her feet, long knife still in hand, she was forced to fall back as the club nearly struck her face. She bumped into Kylx.

“We’re not fine. Best surrender.”

The veteran had the same idea. He held his club aloft, fully blocking her path, while four Spiriton warriors surrounded them, weapons ready.

“Ketch.” Nari threw down her weapon.
Nari tugged at the ropes binding her wrists and watched her captors converse a ways off. Kylx was bound beside her. Nirq sat above, in the tree they were tied to.

The Spiritons first removed the arrows from the young ones, in moments they were tended and bandaged. Then they spoke in hushed tones, occasionally glancing back at their prisoners. Nari tried to eavesdrop but could only make out a hissed “Novices!”

“Guess they’ll take us to the Hall?”

“That’s what I’m hoping.”

Eventually the warriors marched back, the vet in the lead.

“Untie her and hand her a bow.”

“Sir?”

“Now.” the vet roared.

The warriors quickly complied.

Nari stood, and was handed her black yew.

“Careful.” Kylx cautioned.

“I know.”

Glancing at the vet she said “You’re not tricking me into fighting you, I won’t die here.”

He snorted and handed her an arrow.

Pointing east he said, “I want you to hit that.”

Nari squinted, “You mean that cluster of burble cones?”

The veteran nodded with deadly solemnity.

Nari could barely see the yellow bundle. She drew, aimed, “I’ll hit the stem.” and fired. The arrow flew and, exactly as she predicted, snapped the stem sending the cones tumbling to the ground.”

The warriors were impressed. Kylx chuckled.

Not so with the veteran, who wore a look of harsh confusion.

“The wind charm… your skill with the bow. You’re Nari the Silfa.”

He jabbed a finger at the bashful, bandaged young ones. “They were stupid enough to race on ahead, in plain sight. You fired, why aren’t they dead?”

Nari shrugged. “They’re cubs, I don’t kill cubs.

However, if you’d made that mistake…”

She tapped him gently on the neck.

The vet was agape at her audacity.

Nari smirked.

Everyone was silent.

“And now, we’re dead.” moaned Kylx.

Suddenly the vet let out a great laugh and gestured to Kylx. “Untie him. These are friends.”

It was time for Nari to look dumfounded. The old warrior flashed her a smile, “Those two gathdeks are my sons. You showed uncommon mercy sparing their lives. As a father I must give you back yours.”

Nari grinned with relief. The warriors cut Kylx free, he stood and Nirq landed on his shoulder.

“I’m. . .”

Nari cut him off, “The white mustache, the scar, that you and ‘most’ of your kin are invisible in Dark Wood. You’re Ekka the Tracker.”

“Hah!” Ekka roared, slapping Nari on the back.

“I’ll wager this meeting is worthy of song!”
They traveled with Ekka and his kin to Yrtep Hall. They stuck to the path; Ekka no longer worried about intruders this close to the fort and Nari no longer needed to hide. The warriors were jovial, even more so when Kylx shared his strong moke tea.

The chill wind still blew through the trees, but bothered none in the presence of such good company. The birds called each other across the wooded sky, Nirq occasionally answering them.

Suddenly, Ekka signaled the warriors to halt. Immediately they lowered themselves to a fighting stance, hands hovering over their weapons. Seeing as they were glancing around for danger, as opposed to glaring at Nari or her brother, the Silfa drew her bow, Kylx crouched ready to duck for cover.

“Here.” said Ekka pointing at a bit of scrub to the right of the trail. The group huddled around him, eyes searching the ground intently.

A feline paw print, roughly three times the size of a Gelfing’s hand, was imprinted faintly in the dirt.

“Could be the Hunter. It changed to a tesongir in Ethdelg.” Nari whispered, her gaze sweeping around in fearful alertness.

The warriors glanced at Ekka for confirmation.

“It’s a tesongir alright. It’s two night’s old. No reason for it to be out of the Swamp of Sog, no reason for it to be near Yrtep.

Best be cautious.”

He looked back at his sons and made a shooing motion. “You two hide. If there’s trouble, wait for it to end and then run home.”

“But father. . .” the eldest protested.

“Don’t argue with me.” Ekka said in dark, even tones. “Your mother was right, you both need more training. Hide, now.”

The two scattered off into the woods.

He turned to Nari, Kylx and his warriors. “We’ll move ahead, I’d appreciate if you’d cover our advance.”

Nari nodd. Kylx touched Ekka’s shoulder.

“There, we can communicate.”

The tracker looked aghast.

“You can thinkspeak, with a stranger?”

Nari giggled, “My brother’s more than just a cook.”

Ekka grinned and waved for his warriors to relax, “Related more in talent than blood. Fine, we’ll talk this way.”

“May we share your eyes?”

Ekka shrugged “I don’t see why not.”

At single gesture from Ekka, the Spiritons stepped between the dark pines and disappeared.

Nari and Kylx followed, stealthy enough but Ekka and his warriors put them to shame.

Ekka crept through the Darkwood, stepping silently around trees, keeping low and near the brush. At every moment he took in every detail; every tesongir print, every bent twig. The signs lead directly to Yrtep.

Years of experience told him it had moved slowly, carefully along the trail. It was smart, not merely relying on darkness for cover. At the fort Ekka swallowed his shock and signaled his warriors to halt.

The gray, mortared stone of Yrtep was before him. These walls and the blood pine tiled roof of the keep were familiar a sight to him, comforting. However, the silence was not. Yes, birds still called each other, the wind still rustled the trees but it was noon, there was no noonsong. There were no guardsmen walking the wall.

What there was was a set of faint chip marks running up the wall as if a great beast had climbed over. Ekka squinted, the stain on the parapet was dried blood.

‘This is bad. We’re circling round to the north gate. Cover it, if you spy something dangerous, shoot it.”

Nari’s wordless acknowledgment was felt across the mental link.

Ekka sent a similar instinct to his warriors and they circled west, and then northwest to the gate. They made no sound, they kept as one with the trees, their movements corresponding with the rustling wind.

Ekka’s jaw tightened.

The north gate had been shattered within, with enough force to knock flying pieces of the stone archway. One such stone lay at Ekka’s feet. The tracks before it were huge; a phantag’s to be precise. In the back of his mind he could hear its trumpet’s call and feel the rumble of the earth as it charged.

The keep inside had collapsed. The northeast support had been knocked out and the ruin leaned in that direction.

Ekka felt ill, many warriors lay stiff and still on this battlefield. They were strewn about. Some crushed, some slashed, some curled as if stung.

Nari kept her feelings hidden. The ache of Klyx’ pity was felt across the line.

“Don’t.” Ekka growled. “Be thankful. They faced the Hunter himself; A grisly but grand death for any Spiriton. We will sing of them proudly.’

Ekka’s most pressing question answered, he now focused on the rest of the scene. Again, he was surprised.

Arrows, as large as spears, two score of them, were peppered throughout the keep. None of them pinned a warrior. They were mostly shot into the ground, as if to deter pursuit. There was a puddle of blood, away from any proud warrior, that stood alone. The arrow that did it had been snapped and lay broken near the east wall.

“I’m following the trail. Nari, cover me.”

Ekka could feel the point of Nari’s aim just over his shoulder. He sent a silent message to his warriors, they stayed where they were.

Ekka stepped out of cover and onto the northern trail. There, just outside the gate, he saw a single pair of tracks. They were large, far too large, heavy, booted. A giant. . . with a long body and a tail, he saw its sweep mark.

“What do you think?”

“It’s similar to how I’d stand if I were shooting.” replied Nari.

Ekka huffed. Just as he thought.

Then he caught something new; a set of Gelfling prints in hard-soled Woodland boots, running, towards the archer.

“Hah!”

He swiftly followed the track a short ways to the east. The giant had followed along with Woodland. However, after about a yord, their trail vanished. For an hour Ekka searched but, for all his famed skill, he could not pick it up again.
Ekka, three of his Warriors, Nari and Kylx sat around a small fire just outside the keep. Ekka’s two sons and the fourth warrior were sent to inform the Spiriton Queen of the Hunter’s attack.

The six were exhausted, the rest of their day had been spent wrapping the warriors of Yrtep in shrouds and burying them amongst the ruins of the hall. It was now dark. They were warmed by the fire and the meaty ashnoth stew Kyxl had scavenged from the keep’s stores.

“If you weren’t in your sister’s business I’d recommend you as a suitor to one of the princesses. This is the best ashnoth I’ve ever tasted.”

“I cooked it in honor of your fallen.”

The Spiriton cracked smiles, cheered and took swift pulls from their wine skins.

“Kylx and I will be leaving right after this meal.” Nari stated bluntly.

Ekka nodded “Where do you think they’ll go?”

“Shog Hog. It’s big, smelly, crowded, the perfect place to hide.”

Ekka snorted “With a giant?”

Nari favored him a sly grin “Naw, the Gaint’s going to make tracks elsewhere to lead us off Woodland’s trail.”

“Hah!” Ekka chuckled. “Just so. Just so.”

“Our Shabasha’s waiting at the mouth of the Black River, we’ll board her and sail.” Nari shrugged. “Who knows? Even with his head start we might catch him before he reaches the city.”

“You’re right to say we.” Ekka grinned.

“The deaths of my clan force me to chase this Rian as well. Best to work with you than against you.”

Nari thought it over for about a second and cracked a wicked grin. “Welcome aboard.”

December Update: Dark Crystal Author Quest and NaNo The Childe Hel

Posted in Adventure Book, Anime, Dark Crystal, Dragon Trinity Crash, Fantasy, Fiction, Knights of the Hidden Sun, National Novel Writing Month, Publishing, Roleplaying Games, RPG, The Childe Hel with tags , , , , , on December 1, 2013 by Chall

Sorry for the delay in posts, I’ve been incredibly busy.

Here’s what I’ve been up to:

Dark Crystal Author’s Quest

I found out about this in late September, so I thought I’d give it a shot. September was spent drawing up a plan for a full Dark Crystal novel. Then, in November, new information came up on the Dark Crystal Online Encyclopedia that blew a huge hole in my plans. Undaunted, (well actually VERY daunted) I picked apart my previous ideas for something that would fit. I have to admit, the rewritten plan is much better than my original so I went with that.

I spent most of October writing my submission. I can’t go over the details of it but what I will say is I’m proud of what I’ve wrought, it’s perhaps one of the best things I’ve ever written. If I get picked as one of the final five I’ll be over the moon. If not I’ll look into sharing what I wrote as fan fiction and move on.

Pick Chris's novel, please? Make peace?

Pick Chris’s novel, please? Make peace?

Speaking of which.

National Novel Writing Month

I completed this. I’ve always wanted to try NaNo so I pledged 2013 to it. I’m glad I did.

Some authors may scoff but I found this hard. I work full time 5 days a week, so to write 1667 words a day is roughly an hour and a half overtime every day with no days off. Furthermore I’m used to working form a detailed plan. All my recent projects are all fully mapped out on Xmind before I ever commit the first word to word processor. My Dark Crystal submission followed this path but I couldn’t do it for my NaNo novel. Why? Author’s Quest took my October so, when November came around I had minimal planning for NaNo. I had to write words, immediately, on the fly. Yikes!

I did it though and it was worth while. I used a very general idea as my guide and just wrote free from for 30 days. At one point I got stuck with doubt and confusion but I powered through that and eventually reached 50’058 words.

The key was to always stay a little ahead. I clocked around 1800 words a day. This meant, on the rare occasion where I was pulled forcefully away form my writing desk, I never fell behind because my ‘word credit’ was still good. On the other hand, if I had let myself fall behind, it would have been far harder to catch up. So the lesson is; if you need to do x words a day aim for x+.

I have to admit, this method has been rewarding. My characters and plot have developed in ways I could have never imagined. Oh, I’ll still plan the snot out of my 2nd draft buuut I’ll have a wonderful 1st draft to work from.

I’m actually not done my novel but that’s okay. NaNo has given me a sense of how far I can push myself when I really need to. I’m going to complete it. Furthermore, I’ve pledged myself at least 1000 words a day knowing that 30’000 compared to 50’000 is easy.

What I will be up to?

The Childe Hel

My NaNo novel is about the Norse Goddess Hel. Not much is written about her. All that is known is:

  • Odin threw her into the underworld to gain dominion over it.
  • She’s a badass, everyone’s scared of her.
  • When Baldur goes to her domain it’s she who dictates to the Aesir the strict conditions for his return. The conditions are not met so Baulder says.

However, there’s no story, that I could find, on how she comes to power in the underword. When she’s tossed down there she’s a little kid. Therefore, I thought that a neat story would be how she fairs. This novel is about her growing up in the underworld.

When you were a kid you got Santa. I got the frozen wastes of Nifilheim.

When you were a kid you got Santa. I got the frozen wastes of Nifilheim.

It’s going to be a dark high fantasy about loyalty, family, love and war. At 50’058 words it’s about a third of the way through. Over this next month or three I’m going to finish the first daft and hammer out a solid second draft. Expect updates on it unless…

My Dark Crystal Novel (pretty please)

If I win Author’s Quest then my Dark Crystal novel will be my #1 priority period. If that happens you’ll here about it, trust me. 🙂

I’ll be orbiting the moon with delight.

ADX Anthology: Dragon Trinity Crash

David’s got my final draft of this. I’m waiting for him to release it to the backers before I share all the freebies I wrote about it. If you’re a fan of Slayers and/or Fate you’ll love this.

Space Pirate Alice Black: Blood Tribute

I’ve been pestering Jenny Xenotropos whose doing the art and layout. Truth is she’s super busy with commissions and Christmas stuff. She plans to get back on SPAB in January. Once she’s done I’ll be self publishing this on LuLu and/or RPG Drive Thru. More on this as it happens.

Knights of the Hidden Sun

Still shelved I’m afraid. So many new things have come up that I haven’t had a chance to take what Malcolm left me and finish the final draft. That being said…

I will finish this. My plan is, once I’ve written the 2nd draft of The Childe Hel, Hidden Sun will get the lion’s share of my attention. That is unless I win Author’s Quest. I don’t think anyone will blame me for choosing the next Dark Crystal novel over it. Regardless, I will finish Hidden Sun, one way or another, eventually.

And thaaat’s me.

I’ll update again sometime in January.

True North – Nanuk

Posted in Cortex Plus, Fiction, RPG, True North, Uncategorized with tags , , , on August 14, 2013 by Chall
"Mr. President, Mr. Prime Minster, yes, lets discuss who owns the North."

“Mr. President, Mr. Prime Minster, yes, lets discuss who owns the North.”

Long ago 7 year old Chris heard Manfred Mann’s Mighty Quinn. Quinn sounded awesome and I wondered when he’d show up in the next episode of Super Friends. That was back when I didn’t know the difference between Marvel, DC and good taste.

As I grew older I fell in love with Marvel, and then DC, and then all my friends who liked Marvel would dis me for liking DC, and then I became jaded.

However, that catchy tune stayed in my head and hence Nanuk.

Before writing him up I did a bit of research and discovered the term Eskimo is offensive, hence why the character isn’t named ‘The Mighty Quinn.’ Also, after some soul searching, I came to the conclusion that, no I do not want an Inuit member of my super team being the ‘cute mascot’. Instead, I studied a bit of Inuit mythology and learned about Polar Bear; the Master of Bears. He is so powerful that if you successfully hunt him it’s only because he let you. If you do so with the proper reverence his spirit will tell his friends and you’ll be successful in further hunts. This, is fertile ground for an awesome character.

Thus, the cute little Eskimo in my mind became a regal spirit who’ll work with True North as long as he’s treated with respect.

Name: Nanuk

Affiliations: Solo: D8 Buddy: D6 Team: D10

Distinctions 

  • Gracious Hunter
  • Almost Man
  • Out of Seclusion

Power Sets

Polar Bear Spirit

  • Enhanced Durability: D8
  • Elemental Control: Blizzard Mastery: D10
  • Water Speed: D6
  • Cold Resistance: D12
  • Growth: D8
  • Enhanced Stamina: D8
  • Superhuman Strength: D10
  • Teleport (Spirit World): D10

SFX

  • Unleashed: Step up Superhuman Strength for an action. If said action fails add a D10 to the doom pool.
  • Immortal: If you die, at the beginning of every adventure make a roll including Teleport (Spirit World) vs the doom pool. If you succeed you manifest back in your northern home, whole. You cannot come back if the killing blow was mystical in nature.

Limits

  • Animal Spirit: If you want to talk to humans, as opposed to animals, you must shape change into your human form. When this happens gain 1 PP and shut down Polar Bear Spirit. Fortunately you can speak every language. If you want to reactivate Polar Bear Spirit, spend 1 PP.
  • Righteous Fury: If you are ever stressed out emotionally gain an ‘Enraged’ condition equal to your Superhuman Strength and 1 PP. You’ll be under the control of the Watcher until you take an opportunity to calm down or someone defeats the condition, in which case you’ll be out of the scene as normal for being stressed out.

Specialties
Combat: D8, Covert: D10, Medical: D8, Menace: D10, Mystic: D10

Background

  • Childhood: Nanuk is an aspect of Nanuk, the Inuit Master of Bears. His childhood was the dawn of time.
  • Day Job: This shard of Nanuk’s duty is to aid True North. Not something he would normally do but there’s no accounting for Trickster.
  • Origin: Nanuk has always had his powers.
  • As a Hero: Nanuk is a spirit, not a hero. Still good but there is a difference.
  • True North: To quell an Elder God in the far north Trickster struck a secretive deal with Nanuk. After the mission the nature of the deal made this shard of Nanuk stay with the group. He’s been with True North ever since. He’s rather frightening but  will respect human laws as long as True North respects him.

Personality

  • Patient, alert, the consummate hunter.
  • This Nanuk is actually curious about the outside world. He’ll try new things, just in a cautious manner.
  • He’s proud, and has every right to be. He’s not arrogant but won’t stand for an insult.
  • In relation to Hallow: Because Hallow respects who Nanuk is, Nanuk will follow his lead. That is unless his directions are unwise, however, David has yet to disappoint.
  • In relation to Grave Walker: The jackal priestess understands him, they get along.
  • In relation to The Angel of Montreal: She’s a half spirit with a kind heart. Nanuk will accept the occasional impropriety from her, she means no offence.
  • In relation to Trickster: Their deal will hold, for now. Nanuk will not underestimate him.

Appearance

  • Nanuk is a 15 foot tall polar bear with ice blue eyes and wicked claws and fangs.
  • When he switches to human form he’s a staggeringly handsome Inuit man, dressed in traditional garb that suits the current weather perfectly.

True North – The Angel of Montreal

Posted in Cortex Plus, Fiction, Publishing, Roleplaying Games, RPG, True North, Writing with tags , , , on August 14, 2013 by Chall
Unlike 'The Stone Angel', by Margret Laurence, this Angel did not traumatize 12 year old Chris.

Unlike the one by Margret Laurence, this stone angel did not traumatize 12 year old Chris.

True story, this character evolved from another one called Night.

Night starred in a short story I wrote for Guardian of Order’s  Path of the Just, I’ll admit it,  The Archer’s Skull, is IMO, one of my best short stories ever. I was graced with a reply with advice on how to make the story fit better with the anthology. It was professional and awesome, and though, ultimately, my story didn’t get picked,  I was honored to receive to feedback, from the likes of Jesse Scoble and James Lowder. They are true professionals.

The core of Night was a kindhearted young woman, who came to life in my imagination. Night, in turn, changed into The Angel of Montreal. Clara’s origin and powers are different but her kindhearted spirit remains the same.

This kindness is key. Clara, is a half-angel, a Nephilim. What’s interesting is that it’s her human half that’s kind. Angels, the way I see them, are like C.S. Lewis’ Asland; good but not safe. In my stories Angels are  powerful, beautiful, alien beings. They’re terrifying, able to bring both blessings and doom. Clara has that in her, but it’s guided by her kind, human heart.

And this is cool.

Too many heroes these days are jerks, we need more compassion.

Name: The Angel of Montreal – Clara

Affiliations: Solo: D6 Buddy: D8 Team: D10

Distinctions 

  • Terrifying Beauty
  • Daughter of Heaven
  • Kind, Trusting, Heart

Power Sets

Nephilim

  • Superhuman Durability: D10
  • Subsonic Flight: D8
  • Mystic Sense: D6
  • Godlike Stamina: D12
  • Superhuman Strength: D10

SFX

  • Healing Touch: Add Endurance die to help others to recover physical stress. Or spend 1PP to automatically remove your target’s physical stress or step back his/her physical trauma.
  • Purge Illness: Spend 1 PP or suffer d4 Mental Trauma to completely remove any disease or poison related condition from 1 target.

Limits

  • Growing Dread:If you succeed with an extraordinary success while using your Nephilim power set, the Watcher can grant 1PP to activate Growing Dread. While Growing Dread is active all 1’s and 2’s, in die pools with the Nephilim power set, act as opportunities. You must accept at least a D6 emotional stress to turn off Growing Dread; you are horrified by your ‘shock and awe’ aspect.
  • Vulnerability, Magic Wards: If you cross a ward against magic suffer a D6 psychical stress. Keep doing so every panel you’re in the warded area. Powers that are designed to shut down magic power sets instead do physical damage to you. Receive 1PP whenever you suffer damage in this fashion.

Specialties
Acrobatic: D10 Combat: D8 Mystic: D8 Psych: D10

Background

  • Childhood: Clara’s father was archmage, based in Montreal, powerful enough to summon a high rank Angel. They fell in love and Clara was the result. Clara’s mother disappeared soon after her birth. Clara lived a loved, sheltered childhood; her father refused to let Clara out of his sight.
  • Day Job: Clara’s independently wealthy, as such can devote all her time to being a hero.
  • Origin: Clara’s father was killed by his own mystic machinations. He left everything to her, but she was ill prepared for the world.
  • As a Hero: Clara had no independent hero career before True North.
  • True North: One of True North’s first missions was to stop a mystic cult from kidnapping a wealthy heiress. This turned out to be Clara, the cultists wanted to bind her to power their own magics. Rather than drop her off at a meta lab True North took her in. Since then she’s been a key player on numerous missions and  become their most famous member, renowned world wide for facing down terrible evil and healing terminally ill children. She’s had offers to join prestigious American and British super teams, but she’s always refused. She knows her true home.

Personality

  • Incredibly sweet and also incredibly naive.
  • She’s terrified of her own power, afraid that she’ll accidentally kill someone.
  • She has a true, good heart. She works tirelessly as a hero of True North and also as the bearer of hope to impoverished, sick or injured kids.
  • In relation to Hallow: He pulled the necessary strings to ensure Clara remains a free and not a guinea pig in some lab. Clare, respects him greatly.
  • In relation to Grave Walker: Michelle’s like a big sister, a shoulder to lean on and a kind ear.
  • In relation to Nanuk: Clara is a little frightened of Nanuk. However, this fear is balanced with a deep respect.
  • In relation to Trickster: Clara knows he’s bad news but he’s so charming she can’t help but be his friend.

Appearance

  • Clara has a statuesque beauty.
  • Her eyes glow with a silvery light. When she files she’s wreathed in a winged, silvery aura.
  • Her long hair is platinum blonde.
  • She’s the only member of True North with a ‘super suit’. She wears a blue and grey catsuit, reminiscent of the sky, with tall, blue, flat heeled boots. Thanks to her supernatural toughness, she’s as safe in this outfit as she would be in anything else
  • In civvies, Clara dresses in an elegant, expensive, fashion.

True North – Grave Walker

Posted in Cortex Plus, Fiction, Roleplaying Games, RPG, True North, Writing with tags , , , , on August 14, 2013 by Chall
A commission by Heather Bruton, her work is in In Nomine. I gots connectionz.

A commission by Heather Bruton, her work is in In Nomine. I gots connectionz.

Grave Walker’s been with me for a while.

I drafted a short story called the King of Nines, which was about tracking down a haunted gun. Later, I wrote another short story, a prequel, about her dad struggling with a blood curse. The third story, involved a child murderer who hoped to resurrect his son by sacrificing other children to various death gods.

I like these stories but the publishers I sent them to didn’t so they got rejected.

Oh well.

Perhaps I like the character too much? Perhaps she broaches on Mary Sue territory? I hope not. I leave you, the readers, to judge.

Grave Walker’s origin is inspired by the Grim’s fairy tale, Godfather Death. I chose Anubis specificaly because, A) he’s cool and B) he gets slagged in most modern stories. He is not an ‘evil god’ by any means, despite what the 80s would tell you. Heck, he was instrumental in resurrecting Osiris.

In my universe he’s a powerful, patient and awesome deity.

Name: Grave Walker – Michelle Graves

Affiliations: Solo: D10 Buddy: D6 Team: D8

Distinctions

  • Godfather Death
  • Urban Amazon
  • Compassionate Pyshcopomp

Power Sets

Anubis’ Goddaughter

  • Attack (Staff, Eternal Rest): D6
  • Invisibility: D8
  • Mystic Resistance: D10
  • Mystic Sense: D6
  • Sorcery (Pyshcopomp) Adept: D8
  • Teleport: D10

SFX

  • Area Teleport: When you teleport between graveyards, everyone who is travelling with you follows.
  • Afflict Terror: Use Sorcery to inflict a ‘terrified’ complication on a living target. Add a D6 and step up your effect die.
  • Undeadbane: Step up Eternal Rest twice when attacking undead.
  • Magic Weapon: Eternal Rest will hurt incorporeal targets, undead or no.

Limits

  • Limited Teleport: You can only teleport between graveyards.
  • Conscious Activation: When mentally stressed our or unconscious shut down Anubis’ Goddaughter. Recover power when stress is recovered or you wake up. If you suffer mental trauma, shut down power until you recover from said trauma. Gain 1 PP when Anubis’ Goddaughter is shut down in this way.

Specialties
Acrobatic: D8 Business: D8 Combat: D8 Mystic: D8 Psych: D8

Background

  • Childhood: Michelle grew up in Victoria BC. Her father was killed by a blood curse before she was born. She was raised by her mother. She had an odd childhood, with her godfather and various ghosts visiting her often.
  • Day Job: Michelle works in Toronto as a very successful undertaker.
  • Origin: Michelle’s father, William, was inflicted by a blood curse after disturbing an Egyptian artifact. It would have killed his daughter as well but he managed to save her by giving her to Anubis as a goddaughter. Anubis has been a constant presence in Michelle’s life and bestowed upon her some of his ancient rites.
  • As a Hero: Michelle never planned on being a hero but a number of child murders, that ended up on her table, forced her hand. She avoided the limelight, ‘this is serious business’, and became an urban legend. Given the nature of her magic the underworld feared her.
  • True North: Michelle was one of the experts brought in to diagnose Hallow’s condition. They became fast friends. He insisted she join True North as his second in command. Michelle accepted reluctantly. Now that Grave Walker is a public figure she’s been able to do more good but this has also complicated Michelle’s life significantly.

Personality

  • She has a calm, adventurous personality.
  • Outside of work she practices parkour and various marshal arts.
  • She’s a good listener and wise counselor.
  • In relation to Hallow: She was brought in to diagnose his condition. They became fast friends. When True North was founded she was asked to join and found she couldn’t refuse.
  • In relation to the Angel of Montreal: The nicest person Michelle knows, who can snap a Buick in half. Despite her raw power Clara’s the little sister Michelle never had.
  • In relation to Nanuk: Nanuk is a powerful spirit being, Michelle treats him with the same caution that she treats all powerful spirit beings.
  • In relation to Trickster: He’s funny and dangerous, a bad combo. In spite of her better judgement Michelle likes him.

Appearance

  • A tall, African Canadian woman with an amazonian build.
  • Long black hair, usually bound in a pony tail or flowing loose behind her.
  • Dresses in a simple black tux for work. In other cases she dresses athletically.
  • Costume is black tactical armor and an Anubis mask.

Note: If you’d like to see more of Heather Bruton’s work, go here.

ADX – Dragon Trinity Crash – More Flash Fiction

Posted in Dragon Trinity Crash, Fantasy, Fate, Fiction, Publishing, Roleplaying Games, RPG, Writing with tags , , , , , , , , on April 17, 2013 by Chall

Princes Drive, Guardians of Steel and Vimanakatha are all unlocked.

Thank you internet. 😀

My setting is up next for the ADX Anthology. That AND David Hill’s Bubble Gum crisis inspired: Cyber Saber Ascension. If this puppy gets funded to $15’000  both will be added.

We have 4 days and roughly $1’300 to go. Let’s make DTC a reality. Here’s the link.

In the meantime here’s some further Dragon Trinity Crash flash fiction:

Note: I’ve altered Dejana’s dragon armor  and dragon armor chant slightly. This has to do with how the game’s evolving while I’m writing it.

+ + + + +

”MEGA SLING!” The double-doors buckled and crashed. Standing there, as the dust cleared, were Jadran the Badass Halfing, Iset the dark, mysterious elven swordswoman and Dejana Half-Elf sorceress merc.

The young woman chained before them was dressed in royal finery.  She looked terrified.

Jadran immediately slid her side and held her hand gently. “No need to fear lass, we’re here to rescue you.”

“SEA SLASH.” Iset summoned a blade of shimmering water and cut through the chains with a single swipe.

Dejana pulled an official looking scroll from her belt and unrolled to show it to the former captive. “Princess Obscura, we’ve been hired by your kingdom. Please come with us.”

The young woman glanced in confusion at the scroll and her saviors.

“I’m thankful for your help but I’m not Obscura.

Your princess is in another castle.”

“WHAT?” cried the three adventurers.

+ + + + +

“MEGA SLING!” “SEA SLASH!” “THUNDER LANCE!”

Boulder, sea sword and lightning blot crashed into the Minotaur with colossal force. The creature let out a horrendous groan and fell, the floor rumbled when he hit.

Iset stood on his corpse, her blade buried in it, catching her breath. Jadran sat and against the body and started chanting Bless Mend to ease his broken arm.

Dajana stepped past them, her armor dented and scuffed and stood before the former captive. She was a dark haired beauty dressed in royal finery.  She she nodded appreciatively at her savior.

Dajana pulled down her gag. The princes gasped “RUST CURSE.” and her chains dissolved. 

The merc smirked. “Princess Obscura I assume?”

The dark haired one frowned. “I’m sorry but no.

She’s in another castle.”

The three groaned.

+ + + + +

“You cannot defeat me! SKY HAMMER!” The warlock shrieked as a hammer of lighting crackled in his hand and he swung at Iset.

“SLATE SHIELD!” The swordwoman rolled to the side as Jadran leaped between them. The hammer BOOMED against his rocky shield, it held but the Halfing was crunched against the opposite wall.

“BLAST GUSH!” Iset summoned a powerful jet of salt water against the warlock and he was knocked flying. “Gaaaaaaah!”

“FREEZE FANG!” Dajana’s hex, mixed with Iset’s spell, solidified the bad guy in place.

The three stood over him, looking battered, bloody and none-too pleased.

“There!” Iset hissed pointing at the tower just outside the court yard.

“That.” Growled Jadran.

“Is where Princess Obscura is kept, yes?” Finished Dajana, in a bedraggled tone.

The warlock glanced up at the tower and then back at the three, a big, mocking grin on his face.

“Hah! Hah! Hah! You fools. I was merely the distraction.

Your princess is in another castle!” He added a maniacal cackle for extra malevolence.

“Oh really?” Jadran asked.

An evil gleam shined in the three’s eyes.

“Uh. Yes?” the warlock said, seeming suddenly timid.

“Ullith.”

“Freya. “

“Xalladale.”

Their rage was able to bypass the normal chants. In a flash of magic three two-story tall dragon armors surrounded the warlock; one of jade, one of ice and one of ivory and gold.

The warlock screamed like a school child as the three stomped him.

+ + + + +

“Do you know what would be nice?” Cried Jardan as he leaped and rolled down the hill. A massive rock spike slamming into the place where he was.

“For Princess Obscura not to be evil?” Commented Dejana dryly as she followed suit.

“No!” Yelled the Halfing over the din of the Titan chasing them.

“What would be nice-”

The five story tall quartz construct opened its eyes and fired lasers  at Iset. She barely jumped out of the way and ended up tumbling down the hill.

“would be dragon armor.” Jardan finished with an accusatory point at Dejanna.

“You stomped the Warlock too.” Dejanna snarled.

“Children.” Iset inserted herself between them. “We’ve got bigger problems.”

A shadow fell over the the three and they saw, at the top of the hill, the Titan. In a ‘necklace compartment’ was Obscura leering down at them.

“Prepare to die!”

The foot came up.

The three ran and just barely made it out of the booming stomp radius.

“We need to summon Artaxerxes.” suggested Iset.

“We can’t.” Dejanna huffed as the three fled. “We need the other armors to build to him.”

“We’ve called upon the others but not him directly. If we all cast together we can do it.”

“If we fail,” cried Jardan, “we’ll be devoured,” they dodged another epic stomp.

“If we don’t, we’ll die anyways.”

“I’m for it.” Dajanna said, sliding to a halt and glaring up at the titan with determination.

Iset too slid to a stop, her glare at the monster was cold as ice.

Jardan groaned but also slid to a halt. “Fine.”

Obscura smirked down at the three from her pendant throne.

“Finally decided to stop running eh? I’ll just finish you off quickly then!”

“You who dwell in the deepest, darkest earth unseen.

Your roar terrifies the souls unclean.

You who carry all the  world on your back.

Call forth your first son, let the earth quake and crack.

Great Dragon who seeks Strength heed my call!

Power of Ullith be mine!”

Out of the earth sprung forth an enormous dragon armor made of jade. Immediately its torso split and slid open, combining with it’s massive arms to make a giant throne.

“Mother of peace, mother of wrath.

I call upon you for a dreadful task.

You who swallow the sun in the west.

Bring forth you child, with whose dread power I will be blessed.

Great Dragon who seeks Perfection heed my call.

Power of Freya be mine!”

A vortex of water erupted from the earth and out of it an enormous dragon armor made of dark sapphire ice.  It sat on the throne and shifted, folding into itself, becoming the body to Ullath’s arms and legs.

“You who wings span the the inky sky and encompass the stars.

Whose gaze sees all no matter how afar.

Bring forth your thunder, whose din terrifies the evil hearts.

I call forth your daughter, so she may rip and tear this villain apart.

Great Dragon who seeks Justice heed my call.

Power of Xalladale be mine!”

Lighting streaked from the sky and with it arrived an enormous dragon armor made out of ivory and gold. It melded from behind to became one with Ullith and Freya, her head and great wings  added to the mix.

As one the three’s voices boomed ” ARTAXERXES PERFECT CRASH!”

The Juggernaut armor stood before the titan.

Held aloft by magical forces in the armor’s third heart Dejana opened her eyes. She was pale, as if drained. Illusions Jadran and Iset were illuminated on the walls of the heart, they too were weak but unharmed.

“We’re alive?”

“It appears our gambit as worked.” Iset sounded exhausted but pleased.

“Then let’s show Obscura what we can do.” chuckled Jarad.

“Right.” Dejana said with a grin. She touched the wall of the heart and golden electricity ripped through the wall. “You’re up first Iset.”

Suddenly the left hand on Artaxerxes twitched, out of nothing a massive blade of salt water, crackling with golden lighting appeared. The armor’s wings flapped and he rose in the air, both claws now clutching the sword’s hit.

It said “Goodbye.” with a frigid finality in Iset’s voice.

Obscuria shrieked as the great Dragon attacked.