Tales of Ilensia, (my book)

[elmarko98]

Just incase anyone's still interested I haven't posted the next chapter partially because of laziness and partially because I'm doing GCSE's and when I get home I think "do I really want to write my book?" and I think -- nah

It's been a very stressful time for me, not only because of school, personal things get in the way you know

So if I carry on being a lazy twat I'll probably get the next chapter out in the weekend but if I decide to kick myself up the ass and say "do some fucking work mark!!" then it'll be out tomorrow

But the teenage mind is a complicated one....my brain may have other plans for me, stupid brain!

[Munaus]

A few bugs that I found at the first chapter:

the soldiers just seemed to give up and stare at him with their jaws at the ground waiting to be cut down.

That and the Arinians advanced technology, they were the only country to have discovered gunpowder and...

Huh? Was I just dragged away from battle to a history lecture? I feel a bit cheated on the action that I'm missing

Aeodor mounted his horse and shouted to his generals ‘Meet me back at Cynidor I have to go.’

Aeodor rode, he rode his horse for hours... until he reached his home. Cynidor

The crowd cheered as he rode away, relieved that their loved ones would be coming home…

After the battle Aeodor rode back with his army, after a few hours he arrived at the castle.

The first two quotes kinda tells the reader that Aeodor rode alone. But the last one said he rode with his army, 'tis a bit confusing.

Bah, I'd much rather give you some Notch-space to be more creative and continue the story, than to backstep and fix something irrelevant like these.

But yet, there they are...

I also find it amusing that it says "Minutes before..." after the prologue, when storywise it has passed almost half a day before Aeodor got shot.

Again, take it with a bit of salt...

[elmarko98]

Lol I forgot about those damn it!

That was all from the last story that was an editing error fuck!

I'm really pissed off with myself now I'll go through it all again

God damn I'm stupid!

Thanks for pointing it out though ^^

[elmarko98]

Here's chapter five, chapter one "should" be fixed, I guess that's what I get for over-editing ^^

Chapter Five

‘Aeodor…Aeodor my child…it is time to wake up…’

The voice echoed through the prince’s mind. A woman’s voice…

Fear clouded his mind and weakness plagued his body. Who is this woman?

He opened his eyes and gasped. By his sick bed a woman lounged in a chair, she looked a few years older than the prince and she was more than beautiful, lush flawless skin, glossy long black hair and a face so perfectly shaped it matched one of a goddess. The woman wore a red robe with gold trims. It looked expensive when examined closely but at first glance it somehow looked cheap and dirty.

The only unsettling thing about this woman were her eyes, they had no iris or pupil only a milky white eyeballs that glowed with a strange kind of aura,

‘W-Who are you?’ Aeodor asked.

‘I am Aeowin child.’ She replied.

‘Why do you call me so, I am no child.’

‘You’re acting like one. You are a child in my eyes, an eighty year old man would be a child to me.’

‘H-How but that doesn’t make any sense!’

‘Maybe not now…’ she said mysteriously.

‘I don’t trust you then.’

The woman smiled and despite how amused she looked she didn’t laugh. ‘Even though I gave you food? Even though I didn’t leave you on the mountain to die. Even though I didn’t put a knife in your belly or poison in your food?’

‘I still don’t trust you…’

‘It does not matter, you are well enough to get up now. Come on.’

She offered a hand and unwillingly he grabbed it, not roughly but not softly either. She pulled him up with ease as if he was a feather.

‘Get some clothes on, Azador is watching…’ she informed him.

‘Wait what!?’ he cried.

‘It is no worry he is only curious that I have a visitor that’s all. Now get changed I wouldn’t like him to think anything funny is going on…’

She directed him to a wardrobe on the other end of the room. The room was small but cozy, the furniture consisted of a oak bedside table, a simple wooden chair, a bed with a woolen blanket and the mahogany wardrobe. The different shades of wood did not match or go with the room but the compact feel of it gave it the coziness it needed. The walls were white painted stone with a wooden trim at the bottom. A single window looked out to the mountains, one of these happened to be Skel Tornath…

‘Is that Azador there watching us?’ the prince said as he pulled on some pale brown leather leggings.

‘Yes the old dragon has been watching me all this life.’

‘Wait what do you mean by this life?’ he said as he pulled on a white linen shirt. Where the woman got linen from in this isolated part of the world he would never know.

‘I have been reborn many, many times Aeodor. My kind are like that but we always the same memories…’ her eyes turned sad ‘Many memories…’

‘Not all good ones I’m guessing…’

‘No, but not all memories are good.’

‘This one isn’t bad…’

She smiled ‘Aeodor your terrible attempts at courtship will not work, I’ve seen better suitors before and I could not accept any of them.’

‘Is this something to with “your kind”?’

‘Yes partially. Pull on that waste coat it’ll keep you warm.’

He pulled it on, it was made out of the oddest material he had ever felt. He had worn almost every kind of material there is, from Saracsin silk to Baradon cotton but this felt different. It was completely black, not a single hint of color in it. But it did keep him warm, the moment it touched his skin the warmth spread his body like a furnace was stuck under every stitch and button.

He felt like he was by a fire in an Arinian winter, not too hot but not too cold. He was just the right temperature.

‘What is this?’ he asked.

‘Dragonskin, when they are skinned the skin retains the warmth of the dragon’s blood and heart for centuries. It’s like a fireplace in the shape of the jacket.’ She told him. ‘Now come I need to show you something.’

She took him to through the adjacent room which was the entrance hall and which consisted of a few bookshelves and statues. Four doors lead to other rooms, one back where they came from, one going outdoors and two others leading to what he assumed was Aeowin’s room and the other he was about to find out.

She led him through the door and into one of the most amazing rooms the prince had ever been in.

Ingots and ores lined the walls on reinforced shelves, row after row of metals heard and unheard of. Three anvils sat in the middle of the room all different sizes. The largest being as wide as three fully grown men and as high as Aeodor’s hip. The smallest was the size of your usual anvil and the middle one was in between.

A huge chest filled with tools of all shapes and sizes sat on the opposite end of the room and on either side of it were two huge furnaces bellowing out flames and smoke. They looked hot enough to cook dragonscales.

Years passed, years of peaceful tranquillity. Almost every season is the same in the mountains, apart from winter, the most dreaded year for Aeodor. He would work for Aeowin everyday gathering firewood and tending the crops. Aeodor was used to those jobs after spending a few months on the farm but they weren’t his only chores.

The woman got him working in the smithy everyday telling him to make random weapons out of all kinds of materials. She instructed him to make odd weapons he’d never seen before in his life, he’d heard of Saracsin scimitars but he had never believed they were real, who could seriously fight with curved swords?

And there were Katanas and Tantos. They were so light and thin the prince couldn’t possibly imagine fighting with them. She made him though, every time he made a weapon he had to train with it and he had no idea why she was making him do this.

Her response when he asked why was always ‘For the coming time dear prince, these skills will stay with you forever and they’ll certainly help.’

He never understood where he would use these weapons, smithing might help for whatever the world or this woman had in store for him but the use of weapons he had never seen or heard of in his life were useless to him. If he was ever in a situation where he needed a weapon he would use one but these weapons he trained with were unseen and unheard of and he didn’t expect anyone to have one.

She made him though, something about her soft voice made his will crumble. Her eyes were intimidating but that was unconscious intimidation. If she wanted too she could be a lot worse, to the point where it would give a grown man nightmares.

Aeodor found her attractive at first but after a few days with her his feelings were ones of absolute fear.

She also made him hunt, she said she wanted “a varied diet” and so Aeodor had to hunt. He had complained at first saying there was enough food already but she gave him another cold stare and he obeyed immediately.

So the years past in the cottage they lived in, the work was hard but Aeodor enjoyed it. He got better at cooking, fishing, hunting and smithing. He felt he had expanded his skills, instincts and behaviour. He was much more disciplined and almost whenever he did something right his “mistress” would smile with satisfaction. She seemed to take joy in his learning not his production. Whenever he brought her food she would mutter thanks and eat it but whenever he brought her three or four deer at once she would smile and say well done rather proudly.

The cottage they lived in was small and simple. The last room you haven’t seen wasn’t Aeowin’s bedroom it was the kitchen that connected to another room that contained all Aeodor’s prizes and weapons. His favourite handcrafted sword hung on the wall, he had never used it not even in training but he felt it was his best and he had become a very experienced smith.

The cottage situated in a large open valley that was teeming with deer. It stretched out for miles snaking through the teeth-like mountains, it looked like it was endless, Aeodor had walked for days and he didn’t reach the end. Countless rivers flowed through it, worming their way down the slope and into the mountain on the other side, flowing into some cavern miles underground. The rivers were teeming with salmon, while Aeodor was terrible at fishing the masses of salmon made catching a little easier.

Despite the peacefulness and the away-from-the-world feeling it was boring, the excitement in Aeodor’s life seemed to of packed its things and left. He had the need to fight, the need to command, the need for battle.

He had to leave the mountains.

So he went to the one obstacle holding him back, he would destroy it if necessary.

‘I need to leave Aeowin.’ He said one bright sunny morning.

‘So you do’ she said staring him with her milky white eyes, even after all these years he still found them unnerving.

‘B-But what am I supposed to do?’

‘Walk, your destiny will find you whether you like it or not.’

‘What the hell does that mean?’

‘It means that the fate the world has in store for you will happen no matter what.’ She was being, for once, a little bit more direct.

‘Argh you’re impossible, how do I know that you’re not sending me out to wander the mountains for the rest of my awful life!’

‘You still don’t trust me, after all these years?’

‘Hell no! You haven’t said a single thing about yourself! For eight bloody years! For the love of the gods you expect me to trust-’

‘You know Aeodor,’ she laughed. ‘You are remarkably dense when it comes to trust!’

He opened his mouth then clamped it shut again. Her calm response had stopped him mid-rant. No one stopped him mid rant...

‘I swear to-’

She waved her hand and suddenly Aeodor was flying, flying high.

After shouting some of his choicest of curse words he calmed down despite being several thousand feet in the air.

Suddenly they stopped ascending and started heading east, back to civilization. They passed over the marshes Aeodor crossed all those years ago, they passed Liodria and even Arinia they were heading somewhere else, soon their destination became apparent.

Fortresses are seen as massive castles with row after row of walls, towers and gates. Usually described as large.

Metropolises are mega cities containing millions of citizens that get on with their daily lives. These are also described as large.

Now imagine bunches these two things together, the correct term for it is a citadel. But the only incorrect thing about that is citadels hold a lot less people.

Now the thing are character has seen is around ten times the size, they were thousands of feet up in the air and they couldn’t see the edge of the place. It was a blot on the world covering most of what Aeodor assumed was Scandinia.

‘What...the hell...is that?’ the stunned prince asked.

‘That is Yor Athropis, meaning United in the language of the Gods.

‘The language of the Gods?’

‘Whenever you’re in a temple do you ever wonder what language the priests are babbling on about?’

‘I don’t practice religion, there are no Gods.’

Aeowin’s eyes lit up and she smiled again. Amusement radiated off her. ‘How childish you are...’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Never mind back to the point, the language of the Gods is the language the priests and Gods speak in. Priests know little and they improvise it much so the stuff that comes out of their mouths is mostly gibberish.’

‘Whatever, I don’t care about languages I just want to know what this is!’

‘This child, is your father’s mark on the land.’

‘W-What?’

‘He built this, a feat not accomplished by hand alone. Great uses of magic have been used around this area.’

‘But, it most cover most of Scandinia! That’s hundreds of leagues! What the hell happened to the population?’

‘They all life in the city, not happily however, most of the place is industry and military use only. The only residential place contains only woman and children. Every single man has been recruited, everywhere is devoid of men. All of them have been forced to live in Yor Athropis.’

‘Why my father has no enemies left!’

‘Correct but he thinks otherwise, I’m sorry Aeodor but your father is mad.’

‘How did he complete this?’

‘He rules Illensia Aeodor, he was crowned, or at least he crowned himself Emperor of Illensia not long after you woke in your sickbed.’

‘And he’s been building this ever since.’

‘Yes, like he said before he killed you. He designed Cynidor, he’s an outstanding architect and as ugly as this looks it’s practical, which was his goal when he set out to design this city. People say it’s the safest place in Illensia right now, if you’re a woman. Woman can join the army, Thanodor’s many things but he’s not sexist. But he needs people look after the place so he left all the other jobs for the women and children who have to work as well.’

‘What the hell has he done?!’

‘Ruined the world child, ruined the world...’

‘I have to stop him!’

‘And that is why you must go, there are things at work here that go beyond petty revenge and power struggle but this is the first step to these things...your father has destroyed all culture an asset mankind needs in the future, an asset that has kept it alive for the past thousand years. Don’t let him completely destroy it my child, you will encounter friends and enemies along the way. Factions have risen, good and bad. You must choose wisely boy because although it is your fate to fight your father it doesn’t mean you’re definitely going to win, be strong Aeodor, be strong...’ here voice dropped into a whisper and she faded away.

‘Wait what?!’ and then as gravity suddenly decided it existed, Aeodor began to fall.

‘HOLY-’

SPLASH!

Aeodor landed perfectly in the centre of a lake a few miles away from the cottage. Even though he landed in water he still should have died.

He had cheated death once again.

He swam to the nearest bank scaring away ducks in the process and, soaking wet, he walked home.

By the time he reached the cottage he was dry again, luckily it was summer and even though the area he was in was geographically supposed to be cold all year round somehow in the valley it was temperate despite being a few hundred leagues from the Arctic circle.

Aeowin was not there when he entered the cottage, he knew he shouldn’t be either. He wondered whether he would see her again. Despite not trusting her he somehow wanted her company again, she barely showed emotion but it was those priceless moments when she did that made Aeodor like her. The one thing that made him shift to the disliking side was her profession, Aeodor absolutely despised mages and he had suspicions that she was one ever since he met her. Their little scene before proved this and now he didn’t know what to think of her. His hate for magicians wasn’t a childhood thing it was just something in his blood. Arinians had always been the science type, magic to them was like water to fire and Aeodor had grew up in a household that despised magic, even by Arinian standards.

When he started to pack instantly knew what he needed and didn’t need. He got a brown leather camping bag that was conveniently left on one of the anvils (Aeowin’s work no doubt) and filled it with various things he needed. He packed clothes, blankets, food and a tent in the bag then he wrapped his smithing tools in a sheet of oiled linen padded with wool for extra protection. The oil was to keep the tools from rusting seeing as he probably wasn’t going to use them for a while.

He then garbed a mail shirt and pants, then pulled over his linen shirt and light brown trousers. Finally he put on his favourite Dragonskin waistcoat for warmth and extra protection.

Finally he placed his best sword that he had been keeping for a special occasion in its sheath and attached it to his belt.

The sword was made out of Runite the strongest mineable metal in the world. The blade had a reddish hew to it a custom implementation the prince had done himself. That was one of the amazing properties about Runite, it changed colour depending on how much you heat it, the hottest heat you can do makes it go black, the level below that makes it go red which seemed the most fitting option seeing as it would be covered in red anyway.

The hilt was black with a ruby studded into it, wrapped around the handle was Dragonskin, excellent for cold night battles, Aeodor did find his hands get cold when fighting in the cold.

The only problem was the sword was somewhat noticeable so Aeodor made sure the sheath was as black as it could be to avoid attention, a red sheath would be like saying “look at me expensive sword why don’t you come and try and take it from me!”

Runite swords were new to Aeodor, his father had one, a family heirloom but he had never used it.

The weapon was light but could cut through anything, it was magical in a way because it shifted its weight to your needs. It takes hours of fighting but eventually it adapts to you and it becomes the perfect sword.

Runite wasn’t extremely rare but it was ridiculously hard to mine, there are creatures called Rune Guardians that are attracted to the stuff, the most dangerous thing about them is that they are made out of Runite, making them extremely hard to kill. They guard it night and day, you can’t find a vein of Runite without finding a Rune guardian.

However Aeowin had got it Aeodor knew it would serve him well, he still hadn’t decided a name but true names come with time, the man needed to know his sword better first.

He buckled his belt and walked to the front door, then he noticed something he hadn’t seen when he came in; note nailed to the door.

Dear Aeodor

I hope you’re not so stupid that you didn’t see this note on the door, if you have found it then well done!

I am writing to you to basically say goodbye, despite my dominance over you intellectually-

Aeodor smiled, the only personal thing they shared was a joke about Aeodor being stupid.

-I enjoyed are time together. The past eight years have been enjoyable, there’s just something about ordering you around that’s really enjoyable.

Now the time ahead of you is going to be hard and taxing. People will die Aeodor, you must understand this. So keep that in mind and be patient.

We may or may not meet again, it all depends on what actually happens. There is a definite thing though; no matter what happens you will meet your father on the burning tower and one will be victorious and one will die.

I know just like the stories except this isn’t a story Aeodor, this is real.

I wish you luck, you are no longer a child to me you are in my eyes a man, not because of your age it’s because of you. You Aeodor son of Thanodor have gained my respect. Diving headfirst into a storm like this isn’t easy but you have taken it so calmly it is a feat that inspires me and all my kind.

I have one favour to ask you though friend, destroy the house.

Despite all the memories there it needs to be destroyed, I am physically attached to it. I can’t explain it but it must be done, it will be essential in the future. Go to both of the furnaces and flick the lever at the back, you’ll have a few minutes before the fire starts. Stone can burn Aeodor, but not all fires are the same...

Good luck Aeodor...

Aeowin

The prince read the letter through several times drinking it in. The parchment was new, it smelt new but at the same time it somehow felt like it had been there for a hundred years. As if Aeodor had walked passed all those millions of times he walked in and out of that house.

He entered the smithy and pulled one lever, it was tight but after some swearing and loud grunting he pulled it down, the past few years of hard work had finally paid off, he could now pull a lever!

He walked over to the other furnace, he could feel the heat building in the room already, the glow from the furnace was getting brighter and brighter, also it was strangely changing colour.

He pulled the other lever after a few might heaves and he was already drenched in sweat, not from exercise though.

The furnaces were definitely changing colour, the first one he pulled was glowing purple now.

He needed to get out.

He left the building and as if the furnaces were waiting for him the house went up in flames. He was halfway across the lawn when it happened, the stone somehow caught fire that crept across it like it was made out of wood. The fire wasn’t normal though, it was bright purple and it seemed to give off more heat than the sun. The flames licked at the stone house, cooking it at temperatures that matched the surface of the sun. Suddenly the roof collapsed, then the walls fell inwards and all that was left was a smouldering heap of molten stone and charred wood. The house was gone, along with all the memories Aeodor had had in it.

He shouldered his pack and walked off heading east, the sun setting behind him casting a orange glow throughout the horizon, stretching the shadows until there was only one shadow left, the shadow of night.

Aeodor was in for a long year...

I hope questions like - "how the fuck is he going to defeat his father?" or "What the hells he gonna do next?" are flowing round your head, if not well it's a shit story ^^

Still be honest and please leave a comment or a word of advice your support really helps

So Chapter Six is the last one I've wrote, with a bit of editing it should be out soon, but then I'm in the deep end where there will be no editing, only writing

I can't wait editing is sooo boring but it does mean (if anyone cares) that chapters will take longer to write because I'm actually fully writing them.

So hope your enjoying it so far now I'm off to play SKYRIM!!! ^_^

[elmarko98]

By the way I'm really enjoying this I know this is my passion despite how bad I am at it!

I'll keep going even if no one reads it because I seriously love writing! :)

[elmarko98]

Okay I'm back now with the return of Tales of Illensia. I've didn't stop writing but I'd stopped posting it (I'm on my tenth chapter now), unfortunately I kind of stopped writing now I haven't given up I just haven't been motivated enough to get back into it as much as I love it. Hopefully something will inspire me I'll post the sixth chapter now and the rest later. I've made many changes to the earlier chapters as well but I'm not going to get anyone to reread them just for the sake of writing quality ^^ but I think it's better. Anyway I hope you enjoy this chapter

Chapter Six

Many months later…

A young man was hunting in the snow, his dagger was clean though, he wasn’t a good hunter but then there wasn’t much to hunt anyway.

But his father wanted food and he had to get it.

Three hours past of wandering around in the frosty mountains, it was cold here, even in summer but the temperature didn’t affect him, he was a Barand.

Grass was concealed in snow. Lakes, ponds and even rivers were frozen solid by the icy air. Bleak clouds covered the sky threatening to snow and rain and hail every second. This is Barandor a country plagued by bandits and deadly winters.

He had heard a faint roaring before but he assumed it was Azador, the beast’s roar could be heard miles away from where it actually was. But this time it seemed closer…much closer.

And then the thought was pushed out of his mind.

His prey was before him.

A majestic elk grazed on the cold mountain grass, he had huge antlers; a worthy trophy of any hunter, muscles rippled in his legs and there was a peaceful look in its eyes like it didn’t have a care in the world, this one hadn’t met a hunter before. The hunter crouched with his bow drawn, this elk could feed him and his father for months. His mother would have been proud, if he killed it…

He let the arrow loose, it whizzed towards the elk. It stiffened and bolted, the arrow missing it by inches. Something rustled in the bush the arrow was heading towards and there was an earth quaking shout.

‘Arrrghhhh!!!’ a man in his late twenties fell out of the tree clutching his leg. He had overgrown black hair, a long curly beard worthy of any Barandor barbarian. His wild looking eyes were wide with pain and shock, and oddly his clothes were burnt and tattered. The only thing he wore that looked intact was a sword in a rich black scabbard strewn across his waist that matched his somehow regal looking face.

‘You stupid son of a-’ the language that followed was so grotesque the fleeing elk stopped and looked back at the wounded man, then turned around and fled.

The hunter ran towards him and crouched by him ‘I’m so, so sorry, I-I d-didn’t mean to-’

‘It doesn’t matter’ the man said through clenched teeth. ‘Doesn’t hurt that much. Just get me out of…here…dragon.’ He was drooping off as he said these last words

‘W-what’s your name’

‘Aeodor’ the man said. ‘My…name is Aeodor.’

A few hours later Aeodor was half carried half dragged to the hunter’s house. The young man was called Drobin, he had shaggy shoulder-length brown hair and a small shifty face with a rather big nose. He had warm humorous brown eyes that gave the impression that he was a very likable young man. According to him he had just entered manhood and was learning how to hunt. His father had grown sick and the gathering of the food was down to him while his mother had died giving birth to his younger brother.

‘It’s rather odd,’ he was saying as he dragged the prince back ‘I love my brother more than anything or anyone in the world, some people are surprised that I don’t resent him for being the cause of my mother’s death but I don’t. It wasn’t his fault after all but for some reason he resents me.’

‘That…is odd,’ the tired prince mused. ‘Maybe he resents you for not resenting him, or just in retaliation just in case you secretly resent him.’

‘Nah that can’t be it, it wouldn’t make sense,’ he said, his voice had a musical note to it, like he was a talented singer. ‘Anyway tell me about yourself Aeodor, you’ve barely spoken. What have you been doing? Where have you come from?’

‘Later…’ Aeodor said stiffly.

After passing through icy trees and climbing steep hills they reached a small log cabin. It had windows which were gaps in the cheap wood with shutters, which were closed and a cracked wooden door. The place looked run down, and completely unlivable. Smoke leaked from a small stone chimney, making it look a little less run down and unlivable.

They opened the door and entered the establishment. Drobin dropped his hunting gear by the door and led Aeodor to the living room. The prince sat down on an armchair by the fire and looked around while Drobin went into the next room after muttering something about food. The room looked like the largest in the house, there was a rug on the floor in the center of the room, an old dining table and a large fireplace with a painting of a young woman placed on the mantelpiece. The woman had blonde hair and the same warm brown eyes Drobin had, her features were similar to his apart from her nose which was smaller and more delicate. Aeodor guessed it was Drobin’s mother.

In the next room he heard raised voices and he turned around and cried out as the shaft that was still buried in his leg knocked against the chair.

Drobin and a boy walked in. The boy had the same sort of face and build as Drobin except he had his mother’s nose and shorter hair.

‘So you’re this…Aeodor’ he spat the words with badly concealed contempt, he didn’t like him already. ‘Look what you did to him you idiot!’ he shouted at his older and much stronger brother.

‘It wasn’t my fault, I didn’t see him Indye’ Drobin said calmly, the man had some extreme patience.

‘By God I don’t care if it wasn’t your bloody fault, you shot him! You and your blasted archery, some hunter you are! You didn’t even bring any food! I swear I’ll-’

‘Quiet boy!’ Aeodor shouted at the grumpy teenager, his voice had gotten gruffer over the years. ‘I won’t sit here and watch a grumpy little baby push a better man around!’

‘Aeodor don’t-’ Drobin began his face ashen.

‘Shut up Drobin!’ Indye shouted he then pressed his face into Aeodor’s his eyes filled with hatred ‘I don’t care how old you are cripple, you are a homeless lowlife who can’t pick up his own two feet!’

Aeodor roughly shoved the boy to the floor ‘Come back when you’ve grown a beard!’

The boy quickly got up and shouted ‘You’ll regret this I tell you, I have friends, friends that’ll rip your insides out and pin them to a wall!’

‘Go tell them, if a single man attacks me, I’ll hunt you down boy! And you’ll regret you were born!’

Indye fled in embarrassment slamming the door behind him.

‘You shouldn’t of done that’ Drobin said shaking his head ‘He wasn’t lying, his friends happen to be one of the biggest bandit groups in west Barandor!’

‘So that’s where we are, the land of snow.’

‘Well yes, that’s why there’s snow everywhere.’

‘How is it here, what’s been going on?’

‘Let’s get that arrow out, it doesn’t look to deep.’

‘I thought you’d forgotten about it’

Drobin laughed ‘No friend, if I took it out you’d be dead by now. I’ve kept it in so you don’t bleed to death.’

‘Ahh okay, I don’t have much experience with first aid. I’ve had a lot of wounds in my time but I’ve never dressed them myself, someone usually does them for me!’

‘Oh so you’re wealthy.’

‘No, not anymore I’ve lived alone in the mountains in the past decade.’ He didn’t want to mention Awinyn.

‘How the hell did you do that!’

‘I found a nice spot. I…found a house and learned to hunt. I’m rather good at it’

Drobin grinned ‘Ha not bad, I suppose was it nice?’

‘It was hard work but peaceful’ Aeodor said his thoughts drifting towards his old home.

‘Why did you leave?’

‘Things happen, I need to go back to my real home.’

‘Where’s your home?’

‘Arinia,’

‘Where’s that?’

‘You don’t-’

‘Look where I live Aeodor, I can’t read or write and the closest to an education is my father tutoring me.’

‘Damn, how did you make a living?’

‘My father is an excellent hunter, he sells his meat at the village. But we’ve run into hard times as I have to hunt. I’m not very good at it’

‘You’re a natural I can tell, I’ll train you sometime.’

‘Really? If it’s no problem then I’d love that. Now this is going to hurt. Brace yourself!’

He had sliced off the feather so it didn’t infect the wound, he then got out a mallet and aimed it at the back of the arrow.

‘Whoa! What are you doing?’ Aeodor asked jumping back.

‘I can’t pull it out because there’s a high chance the arrowhead will come off and get stuck inside your leg and that wouldn’t be pleasant. But if I hammer it further in the arrow will come out the other side where I can slice it off then pull out the arrow. Happy?’

‘No’ Aeodor didn’t trust him, his stubborn Arinian trait was kicking in but he had no other choice.

‘Good you’re not supposed to be, but are you ready?’

‘Nope’

‘Good you’re not supposed to be that either, let’s go.’

Aeodor sighed and stretched out his leg. Drobin began hammering at the back of the arrow, once, twice, three times and finally on the fourth the pointed head of the arrow appeared on the other side of his calf. Each hammer strike Aeodor had subdued a scream but when the arrowhead appeared on the other side of his leg the pain was so immense it was like being kicked repeatedly in the groin.

Aeodor screamed and shouted and cursed but Drobin carried on, he pulled out a pair of crude tweezers and with a ferocious heave he pulled out the arrow.

This last method of “first aid” was too much for Aeodor, as a huge spurt of blood came from either side of his leg his vision blackened.

The prince opened his weary eyes, he was still in the armchair and the evidence of his past wound strewn across the floor all dried up and nasty, like a huge scab on the floorboards. A bandage was wrapped around his pierced leg, the chalky whiteness of the bandage had two red blobs on either side where the holes in his leg were.

Aeodor looked up, in front of him two men lounged on the dining chairs watching him, one was old the other young.

Drobin and what Aeodor assumed was his father looked at him when he raised his head.

‘How are you Aeodor?’ Drobin asked.

‘Fine…fine I think,’ he said ‘I just feel a little woozy that’s all.’

‘It’ll wear off, you lost a bit of blood but you’ll be fine. I cleaned the wound, removed any splinters and added some ointment so it shouldn’t get infected. Give it a couple of weeks maybe a month and you’ll be good as new.’

‘I can’t thank you enough Drobin, you’re a fantastic doctor.’

‘Aye, my boy’s always been good at helping and healing people’ Drobin’s father said, his pale lips moved warily like every other movement. He had short gray hair, a small skinny body that had withered with age. He had blue eyes unlike his sons and wife but his nose was identical to Drobin’s. The two hunters wore similar clothing; a gray cotton jerkin and trousers trimmed with fur to keep the southern cold out. ‘Lucky he found you,’ the old man chuckled ‘Then again if he didn’t find you, you wouldn’t have a hole in your leg!’

They all burst out laughing and Aeodor was feeling more and more at home with these people, they were to simple to be untrustworthy and he liked them, then his thoughts drifted back Wallod’s farm. Those things were after him and bad things seemed to happen to good people whenever he was near.

Drobin’s father wiped a tear from his eye and still chuckling said ‘I’m Drolod by the way, one of the most renowned hunters in this area, I heard about your little survival trip you had in the mountains, my son’s been telling me about you but where the hell were you before that? He said you used to be wealthy and Aeodor sure rings a bell’ the hunter scratched his head looking at him.

Could he tell them? What if other people were listening in? What if Indye was listening? If anyone would spread his secret it would be him. He decided to play it safe for now ‘I honestly don’t know I…remember waking up in a street and deciding to…go to the mountains! Yeah that was it’ Aeodor was a terrible liar.

Drolod sighed and looked at his son ‘You didn’t tell me he was a bad liar son’

‘I don’t think he had the chance to lie to me, come on Aeodor tell us’

Aeodor thought for a moment and said ‘Drobin check no one’s eavesdropping and then close the curtains and lock the door, what I’m about to tell you may put you and me in danger if anyone hears it’

Drobin nodded, his eyes sparkling with curiosity and scurried outside and did as he was asked, when he got back he sat down with his father and listened as Aeodor told his story.

‘You probably recognize the name Aeodor because you’ve probably heard it a few times, I am Prince Aeodor of Arinia…’ he told them of how he was exiled from the palace, he didn’t tell them about his father shooting him, he wasn’t ready for that but he told them about how he lived with a farmer and learnt how to live like a commoner ‘It changed me it did, the man worked me to exhaustion every day and it improved me mentally and physically. I’m used to hard labor now and if it weren’t for him I wouldn’t have survived in the wilderness but then…’ he told them about the black knights that attacked them and how they burst into shadow and reappeared a few yards away when you killed them. He told them about his trek through the Marshes of Irithor, although he didn’t go into much detail because it spooked him to even think about it never mind talk about it. He then talked about living in the mountains and learning how to hunt and then leaving. He was then chased by Azador on his way and finally being shot by Drobin. He left out Awinyn and her prophecies, he barely understood them himself and he didn’t want his new friends to think he was mad.

‘My dear boy you’ve had quite a journey, it wasn’t a nice end being shot by my son was it?’ Drolod shook his head grinning. ‘But you talk of Arinia, you should be happy to hear then that the Arinians have conquered all civilization’

‘So it’s true then’ Aeodor whispered. ‘That wasn’t an illusion…’

‘What are you talking Aeodor?’ asked Drobin, startled. ‘And what’s this Arinia?’

‘Arinia is my home country, it seems my father has conquered the world…this is what I feared, my father is evil’

‘Damn right he is and crazy. I was a bit worried about an Arinian prince being here but it seems you’re not on friendly terms with the king either.’

‘What do you mean either?’

‘He’s evil, he’s been forcibly recruiting every able man to the army. There are no wars any more but it seems as if he’s preparing for a big one! The people of Illensia are on the brink of rebellion but no one, not even the whole of Illensia would be able to stop him now. He’s a known military genius and he has the biggest army Illensia has ever seen!’

‘I can stop him’ Aeodor said quietly ‘I know war and I can fight! If the whole of Illensia is behind me then I can stop him!’

‘Well you’d need lots of friends and allies, Illensia is scared Aeodor, it would take some insane persuading to get her to fight for you! I don’t know much about warfare but that’s what I suppose you’ll need’

‘And there are the costs of armor and weapons. How are you going to manage your money?’ asked Drobin.

‘I can get someone, Illensia’s a big place.’

‘But where are you going to get money?’

‘There are towns and villages under the control of the Arinians according to you and if everyone hates the empire then I’m sure they’d pay us with money, food and people. If we’re discreet enough we can build a big enough army without them noticing and then strike. Then boom we have Illensia in our control!’

‘I never thought of doing it like that, but it would take years of preparation to fight an army that size!’ Drolod said.

‘I’ve got to try!’

‘No we’ve got to try’ Drobin said standing up. ‘I’ve known you for less than two days but I already respect you and see you as a friend. And you’re the only person my father’s accepted into his household, anyone else would be thrown out into the snow with a bump on their head. That’s a sign friend, a sign of who you are.’ He grasped Aeodor’s hand ‘I’ll help in whatever way I can.’

Aeodor felt tears fill up his eyes ‘No one has shown me that much appreciation before in my life, thank you Drobin…thank you’

A bond formed between the two men that was extremely close to brotherhood, a friendship that would last no matter what.

‘There is…one problem’ Drolod mused.

‘What’s that?’ Aeodor asked.

‘You can’t conquer the world with a hole in your leg!’

The three men laughed and a friendship formed. Aeodor realized whilst laughing that he had changed immensely. The farmer’s life and survivalist’s life made him a different person. Many years ago if he was invited into the house he was so warmly welcomed into now he would of turned his nose up and walked away maybe with a disdainful sniff. But now he accepted the place like home like he would with any home.

He was a better person.

This is only half of Chapter Six (it exceeds the 50000 character limit xD) I'll post the other half straight after this (also sorry if this isn't allowed moderators, please tell me if it isn't)

[elmarko98]

Many weeks past of tedious sitting around and occasionally going on a hunting trip with Drobin passed, the prince taught the young man as much as he could about hunting and the man was definitely a natural. His skill just wasn’t honed enough, like a blunt blade made out of the most enchanted and strongest material in the world. When Aeodor knew only experience would further hone Drobin’s skill he let him get on with it without him, he only slowed down his friend due to his still healing leg, he hoped they could hunt together if they had the time but something told him they wouldn’t.

Aeodor got to know Drobin’s ill father more and more while his leg healed, they would complain together about the icy cold weather and the constant snow and hail that pelted their home. They would get Drobin to cook for them and one time Drolod got Drobin to crouch in front of him so he could put his feet on him, as a joke of course. Their relationship grew into one much like father and son. Drolod would call him stepson for a joke every now and then and Aeodor would call him stepfather. Aeodor caught up on the news of the world, or at least Drolod’s knowledge. The Arinians had taken Ellendan and after making its vassals swear fealty his army got bigger. He then took Artend with the help of the Liodrians and then betrayed them and took their country. The rest fell and the king executed every King and regent in the known world. Every house and vassal gave him their sword and the few that rebelled lost their heads. The King, or Emperor as he is called now practically enslaved the Scandinians and made them build an immense city (Yor Athropis) that covers over half the country. Magic was said to be involved in the quick construction but many still died during it. This surprised Aeodor, his father must be extremely desperate to resort to magic to build a city of that size less than a decade. The slaves were then rewarded with houses and jobs. All the men were sent to the thousands of barracks that occupied the city and the women were stuck to doing factory work. Aeodor had heard that from Awinyn but he still listened politely. ‘What about here? What’s going on in Barandor?’ Aeodor asked.

‘Not much,’ the old man began. ‘Every minor clan is herding all the able men and sending them off to the major clans where they’ll be trained to fight. Women occasionally volunteer but most of the time they’re turned down, the world still needs the common work done.’

Indye occasionally walked in and out taking food without a word then leaving. His father would say hello but the boy would ignore them both or just stare at them with a stare that said “I’m gonna rip your head off and throw it back to Arinia!”

But despite these awkward encounters life was enjoyable, even though there was a lot of tedious sitting around involved. Aeodor discovered he enjoyed company, the experiences Drolod shared with him were amazing despite how simple the man’s life was. It made Aeodor think, how different was a rich man to a poor man really. They’re both human but one somehow comes off better. Thus the cycle of the world goes Aeodor thought.

When Drobin wasn’t hunting Aeodor taught him swordsmanship a valuable skill they would all need later. And with some paper from the village he taught the man battle strategies and various tactics he would use in battle. He would test Drobin by giving him a tactical situation in a battle and see what he would do. Drobin not being able to read was a problem though, Aeodor tried to teach him but showing one how to read and write was easier said than done.

Aeodor’s main pass time though, was smithing. He used the local village’s forge and made weapons and tools for them, it earned him some money and the smith there learned a lot and he gladly let the prince use his forge. The prince even managed to make a decent weapon for every man and woman in the village to defend themselves from bandits. And with some steel he crafted Drobin a nice sword and both of them a mail shirt. Armor making was new to him but he soon learned the trick, it was much harder to make mail then plate but it was easy to make a perfect fit due to the fact you can add as many rings to the shirt as you want making it far more adjustable, while plate mail it was impossible to adjust it further once it was made so you had to get the perfect fit first try. Aeodor attempted this a few times but he couldn’t manage to make a perfect fit of plate mail for him or his friend.

His relationship with the village steadily improved until he was as friendly with all of them as he was with Drobin and Drolod. The villagers didn’t know his true identity they just thought he was a wanderer that was staying at Drolod’s house until his wound was healed but they accepted him as one of their own.

Drobin was the laughing stock of the village when people heard about this but by nature he couldn’t get annoyed with anyone so he laughed along with them.

He did redeem himself though, with Aeodor’s training his natural ability of the hunter was honed to the max until he was a lifeline of the village. He supplied almost as much food as the farms do and he gave away most of it for free. His status in the village rose from village idiot to village feeder.

After a month of village life Aeodor’s leg was almost healed. All that was left were two large scabs on either side of the leg, the middle of the wound had healed.

Aeodor could run again!

He had spent the last month sitting down all the time whether it was at the forge or on his chair by the fireplace and now he could move properly without assistance he rejoiced.

The first thing he did was go hunting with Drobin, he hadn’t done it yet and to his distaste he found that Drobin was better than him.

‘The apprentice becomes the master eh?’ he joked with his friend.

While Drobin was the better hunter his archery wasn’t perfect but then Aeodor wasn’t either.

Aeodor hadn’t lost his skill with the blade though and being able to walk he could teach Drobin better in the way of the sword. They fenced day and night but even though Aeodor was at a disadvantage because of his leg which he couldn’t jump with he still came out of their fights the victor. But Drobin was getting better at swordsmanship as well and as each day past the young man became more of a challenge.

The villagers heard of Aeodor’s recovery and rejoiced. They begged him to teach them how to fight to hold off the bandits, he didn’t need convincing.

The villagers weren’t born warriors but they worked hard and they slowly became soldiers. A village watch was assigned and a hastily made wooden wall was built. There was only one problem which affected Drolod the most: Indye had gone missing.

It happened a week after Aeodor could run, his wound was still vulnerable and he still couldn’t move as quickly as he wanted to.

He was training the villagers in an Arinian war style mixed with the animal like fighting style he had picked up in the wilderness. It was his style that mainly went on efficiency rather than flair although there was some involved in it. He was hoping he could get the villagers to follow him in the rebellion, the village would work as an excellent temporary base of operations. It was on a defendable hill and the land around it was hostile, with some decent fortifications the place would be impenetrable.

He was too busy thinking that he didn’t notice the guardsman on the wall fall off with an arrow in his neck. Then a woman screamed ‘Bandits!’ and his thoughts turned towards reality.

‘Everyone stand ready!’ he barked in his officer tone of voice he uses in battle. ‘Spearmen at the gates, archers on the wall! All swordsmen patrol the perimeter and hold of any breakthroughs, the wall might not hold them.’

Everyone did as they were ordered, the calmness of his voice boosted their morale, they had drilled a week for this and they were decently equipped, the only problem was according to the villagers the bandits had five times the army. But then Aeodor has won in worse odds before.

The army of bandits attacked.

Arrows flew down like angry bees with a deadly sting, some flaming some not. Buildings burst into flames but the wooden wall didn’t. A little Liodrian tactic Aeodor used was to cover the walls in elk skin from the hundreds Drobin had killed and then cover it in the water from the stream making it virtually fireproof.

It sure worked, steam rose from the wall as the fire arrows hit it and Aeodor could almost feel the bandits fear; they were up against more organized people than they were used to.

But the fireproof walls didn’t stop the bandits from knocking them down, three parts of the wall was breached and the bandits poured through like beer from a spilt glass. Aeodor’s personally trained villagers held them off though, with military teamwork they defeated all three of the rabbles in a style no one in Illensia had seen before. Most of the first wave were killed, some fled and others threw down their weapons and fell to their knees surrendering.

Village woman put out some of the hot flames that were turning the wooden houses to black charcoal.

The archers on the wall killed many of the bandits firing in volleys like Aeodor taught them to. Despite all this the bandits carried on. Their leader is scaring them into fighting,

‘The bandits are scared of us and their leader, the only problem is they’re scared of the leader more’ thought Aeodor.

One last desperate attack broke through the gates. The bandits poured in like a stampede of bison’s straight into Aeodor’s spear wall. Their numbers were so immense though that they pushed the defenders into Aeodor’s second line where more spearmen were waiting to help behind temporary fortifications.

Hours of brutal fighting past, the mountain of bodies grew and grew until the villagers were pushed to the village center where they made their last stand.

‘Where the hell is Drobin!’ Aeodor shouted to one of the villagers.

‘He went out hunting sir, before the battle!’

Aeodor swore, everything wasn’t going right, Aeodor had hoped to hold them off at the walls and defeated them there. The only good news was the bandits were immensely thinned out, their numbers looked to be the same size as the villager’s army which hadn’t lost much because due to Aeodor’s tactics, only three people were missing. Aeodor’s backup plan was the only hope left. He drew his sword and rounded the remaining villagers up.

‘Phalanx position! Hold off all sides. Now! We can win this!’

The villagers acted as one moving much more like trained soldiers than farmers and hunters.

Every side of the village center was blockaded; the men were distributed as evenly as possible to each side, spears were given to the swordsman and the archers were placed in the village hall leaning out of windows and standing on the bell tower, the archers had a good vantage point for the last stand. Aeodor went to the main blockade and pushed his way to the front. A hundred yards in front of him the bandits stood waiting.

A huge man wearing a bear skull on his forehead and heavy furs walked out in front of them. He roared a bull like roar and charged. His men followed suit and ran after him. Aeodor waited.

One second past…

Two seconds past…

And finally on the third second the bandits crashed into the villager’s spears and Aeodor springed into action.

He darted to the side ignoring the pain in his leg and stabbed a bandit in the chest. Another bandit ran at him armed with a crude spear, he stood there pointing his shaking blade at Aeodor, the prince flicked his wrist knocking the spear to the side and then thrust forwards with his blade, the bandit’s eyes widened and he fell to the ground completely lifeless. Four bandits surrounded him, one was armed with a spiked club, one with a sword and the other two had spears. Aeodor jumped up high as they all went for him, when he landed something snapped, he roared with pain as his leg buckled and one of the scabs split open causing blood to flow out like some kind of hellish waterfall, one of the bandits went for him only to find an arrow in his neck. Another assailant fell clutching his arrow pierced stomach, the other two realizing they were being shot at went for Aeodor. They were to late though, the prince had recovered. He dodged both sword and spear as the two bandits struck. He whirled and severed one’s head from his body, another arrow hit the back of the second one right between the shoulder blades, with a groan the man fell to the ground dead. Volley after volley of arrows were hitting the bandits thinning their lines evermore so.

‘Advance!’ cried Aeodor realizing the bandits were getting further and further back.

The wall of spears moved forwards stabbing at the bandits killing and wounding more and more of them, Aeodor darted in and out of his spear wall, he severed a bandits leg off and quickly killed him with an overhead strike, he kicked one in the stomach then sliced upwards, his blade meeting the bandit’s face. So many fell before the prince and his army until the bandit leader pulled out his last card.

‘Aeodor! I have seen your smithing skill and your ability to turn helpless villagers into seasoned soldiers, you have proven you are good at that, but what about you? What skill in battle do you have?’ the bandit’s voice boomed around them, he had a strangely posh voice considering he lived in a cave and raided villages. The fighting had stopped and everyone was looking at Aeodor.

‘I fight with the blade, I fight with skill no one has seen in Illensia what skill do you have?’

Aeodor was using the customary Arinian immodesty to taunt the bandit, he had to for boasting can sometimes give a warrior the edge in battle.

‘I fight with my hammer with enough skill to crush you and your little tooth pick!’

‘A hammer is a barbaric weapon used by people with no skill, only brawn. The swinging of a hammer is not a skill, it’s a weapon that brain dead skill less bandits use!’

The bandit bellowed and charged at Aeodor knocking over bandits and villagers alike. When he reached Aeodor the prince rolled to the side with precise timing then leaped forwards and sliced at the back of the still running bandit’s calf. Blood hit the Aeodor’s face as he ripped open the man’s leg. He bellowed and got up, he took a more cautious approach. They circled each other, waiting for one to attack. Azador roared in the distance making every head turn, Aeodor took his chance and leapt forwards, the bandit turned around and with precise timing drove his hammer upwards into Aeodor’s stomach, his surprise attack had failed! He coughed blood onto the floor as the bandit leaned in close. His breath stunk of ale and rotten meat, his teeth were worse, what little of them he had left.

‘Looks like you failed Aeodor, I think your head would fetch a very handsome price indeed. You’re no commoner are you prince, ha I’m sure your father would pay very handsomely wouldn’t he hmm?’

The bandit picked him up by his hair, Aeodor groaned, blood leaked from his mouth.

‘This! This is all you have villagers, your only lifeline. And now he’s going, he’s leaving you! This man is a prince you know, the prince of Arinia!’ the crowd of fighters gasped, then as fast as love can turn into hate they all shouted and booed. They threw rocks and food at Aeodor, some hit him in the face bloodying it ever more so.

‘Stuck up git!’ one shouted.

‘Prince of destruction!’ another shouted.

‘They really don’t like my father’ Aeodor thought to himself wearily. It was over, his journey had already ended and it had scarcely begun. He had failed.

The bandit leader, Wuthord dragged him away from the booing and jeering crowd. He muttered something to one of his men and most of them stayed behind at the village. When the prince had been dragged outside the sound of weapons clashing and people screaming echoed through his ears, he had failed.

‘Throw the bugger in the cart!’

Strong arms gripped Aeodor and he was thrown head first in to a cart. His head hit something hard but he stayed conscious barley. The cart started to move, on the long journey to Aeodor’s doom.

‘Throw him some food, we don’t want him starving on us.’ A voice said.

Aeodor woke up, a second ago to him it was night, now it was day.

‘It’s odd how time passes like that.’ He thought.

A chunk of half cooked venison hit him on the head, ravenously he ate it despite it being rotten and bloody.

‘How long do you think the journey will take’ the same voice asked.

‘A year at the least, Illensia’s a big place and we’re going to be making slow time on foot.’ The other voice Aeodor recognized, it was Wuthord.

‘Great, a year on the open road’ the voice said sarcastically.

‘Don’t complain Unthor, when we do get there we’ll get enough money to by a castle and some horses. I wonder what the prince was doing here-’

Something went whoosh and crimson blood splashed Aeodor’s face.

He got up, there were shouts all round as the bandits drew their weapons and looked around for their assailant.

They were in a narrow canyon passing between the hills, the sides were sheer and rocky. The canyon walls looked weak and parts had collapsed. The top was the perfect place for an archer…

Three more arrows came down killing the bandit riding the cart with Wuthord and two bandits on foot. Aeodor saw the attacker this time, while the others did not. Due to the light Aeodor couldn’t make out his face but the figure waved then carried on.

Wuthord jumped out of the carriage and drew him hammer.

‘Come on scum! Come and fight me!’ he roared.

Another arrow hit the brute in the wrist, he screamed and fell to his knees clutching his bleeding wrist.

Aeodor took his chance, he leapt out of the cart onto the man’s back. His arms wrapped around Wuthord’s neck and he tightened his grip. The bandit gurgled and swore as Aeodor slowly took the life away from him. Frantic, Wuthord dug his arms under Aeodor’s and pushed outwards. Wuthord was stronger than him and his grip broke almost instantly. He fell backwards onto his back, the sharp stones on the floor scraped the back of his arms. Luckily he still wore his Dragonskin waistcoat which protected his back from further wounding.

Wuthord picked up his large hammer and walked towards him, he had a crazed look in his eyes like all his senses had been stolen from him.

‘I’m gonna kill you!’ he whispered, his then raised his voice ‘I’M GONNA KILL YOU!’

His ran forwards his hammer raised above his head, Aeodor was helpless and the archer was too busy holding off the rest of the bandits. The hammer went down towards Aeodor’s head, it was a mere four feet away.

Three feet…

Two feet…

Suddenly everything stopped, Wuthord stood there, his eyes frozen his madness. He was perfectly still as was everything else, bandits stood around in action poses, some in mid crouch, some shouting taunts at their foe and some on their backs with arrows in their heads and torsos. Aeodor couldn’t seem to move either he could only think.

‘Am I dead?’ he thought.

‘You are not prince, not yet.’ A figure walked towards him, it was Awinyn and she was carrying something. Aeodor quickly realized it was his sword.

‘You left this behind at the village, I am here to bring it to you.’ she pressed it into his fingers and moved his arm so the blade was in front of the hammer.

Aeodor couldn’t move his lips, he couldn’t speak.

‘Just remember’ her soft voice echoed inside his head. ‘That you can always call this sword, shout its name and it will come it needs a name though…goodbye Aeodor.’

Aeodor wanted to scream, a million questions darted around his head, Awinyn was gone though and time had come back.

Wuthord’s hammer hit Aeodor’s sword and time jumped back its steady beat again. The bandit fell backwards in bewilderment, to his eyes Aeodor’s sword had literally appeared in his hand.

‘How did you...?’ his madness drained from his eyes and he took a more commanding tone ‘Into the cart, now!’

The bandit scrambled for his hammer but Aeodor’s foot found his face before he could wield it. The brute fell to the ground unconscious.

Aeodor was going to keep him alive, he needed to know where the bandit hideout was.

Suddenly on side of the canyon collapsed onto the bandits, Aeodor darted away and narrowly avoided the deadly falling rocks. All the bandits were consumed save Wuthord luckily.

The best thing of all though, Drobin was standing on top of the avalanche, his jerkin was covered in snow and his eyes still had that humorous look to them.

‘How you doing down there Aeodor, you’re a hard beast to hunt.’ He laughed and so did Aeodor, he couldn’t help it.

His friend jumped down the mound of rocks and bandits. He pulled Aeodor into a rough hug.

‘I tracked you, for days and days I followed you trail.’ The hunter tried a smile but it looked forced.

‘What’s happened Drobin?’ Aeodor asked uncertainly.

‘Father’s dead.’

The words pierced Aeodor’s mind bringing out an old emotion he hadn’t shown in a long time: Sadness.

They both wept quietly. Drolod was like a father to Aeodor, their relationship had grown in mere months, it was worse for Drobin; he had known the man his whole life.

‘Don’t worry friend, we’ll kill them all. We’ll rip out their hearts and burn them!’ Aeodor reassured his friend.

Drobin nodded and wiped his eyes.

‘Let’s go, I need to leave this place.’

‘We need to know where first, let’s go and meet my little friend.’

‘Get me the hell out of these bloody bonds!’ Wuthord roared his posh voice echoing through the night.

‘Tell us where your hide out is, now!’ Aeodor punched him right in the nose.

‘Argh I don’t know!’

‘We’re not stupid asshole! You’re their leader, of course you know!’ mirroring the prince Drobin punched the bandit in the nose, this time in clicked and blood spurted everywhere. ‘Oh I think I broke his nose.’

Aeodor laughed then went serious again, he pulled Wuthord’s hair back hard. The bandit screamed and after some intense tugging he shouted ‘West of the village! By…by Mount Inthiu, I swear!’

‘Swear it by the Gods and Goddesses of all! I swear if I am lying I will walk a thousand leagues without stopping then throw myself off a cliff!’ Wuthord cried.

‘God, he’s weak-willed isn’t he?’ Drobin said.

‘Aye but we know where they are now, the problem is we don’t know what’s waiting for us.’ Aeodor mused.

‘We’ll deal with that when we get there, what are we going to do with him though?’

‘Take him, I’m not going to murder someone out of battle unless I have to, we’ll keep him tied up the whole time though.’

‘I swear you’re to forgiving sometimes.’

‘I’m not forgiving him, I’m just not falling to his level. Now let’s go, I have a feeling Indye has something to do with this, and if he does then Gods save him.’

‘I know he is…’ Drobin mumbled.

They set off with Wuthord on the horse that pulled the cart, it had miraculously survived making their journey all the more easier.

It was time for revenge.

A day later Aeodor and Drobin sneaked into the bandit’s cove, Wuthord was speaking the truth, the bandits were there. It was a fairly large cavern but low ceilinged cavern, jagged rocks stuck out of the floor here and there that would provide excellent cover for an archer… A fire was lit inside and thirty or so bandits lounged around it, most were wounded. The villagers had put up a good fight, there were half the amount when Aeodor was taken away. The two friends sneaked near enough to eavesdrop.

‘Stupid villagers! Where the hell did they learn to fight like that! I barely got away with my life!’

‘It’s that Aeodor, ever since he came to my father’s house he was nothing but harsh to me. Father instantly like him more than me and that dog Drobin sucked up to him, he must be rich the way he walks about and-and’ the voice cut off too angry to continue. Aeodor’s eyes widened, he knew that voice, it was that drawling teenager’s voice, it was Indye’s voice.

‘I most enjoyed killing him,’ the boy carried on.

Drobin’s eyes clouded, the warmness of them draining away and filling with rage. He roared and fired six arrows in quick succession at the bandits. Six arrows found their mark and six of the bandits collapsed, dead.

The remaining bandits drew their weapons and stood up, their eyes were full of fear, Drobin’s archery startled them and they still don’t know where their assailants were.

As if they read each other’s minds and formulated a plan without speaking one word they split up, Aeodor went to the exit to block the way while Drobin went around the side of the group.

Four arrows whizzed through the air, three found their mark in the throats and chests of the bandits while one spun off and hit the cave wall. The bandits starting shouting and some ran towards the place Drobin had fired from but he had darted away to another spot. And from that spot more arrows came, emerging from the darkness in a blur of deadly speed.

The bandits moved to each place Aeodor’s young friend fired from, they had no leader and without a leader they were like tigers without teeth.

‘They’re spirits, spirits of the villagers!’ a bandit shouted. ‘They’ve come to kill us!’

The bandits screamed and shouted and sprinted away straight into Aeodor’s waiting sword. There were ten left, they could have overwhelmed him in seconds but their fear pushed out any real thought. They just tried to get past him and by doing so they ran into his blade. Drobin fired from behind them and soon all of them lay dead on the ground with either arrows stuck in them or they were missing limbs. A pond of crimson began to form as the bandit’s blood began to pour over the rocky floor. Aeodor and Drobin stared at each other wondering how they had just accomplished killing fifty bandits all by themselves.

A figure appeared behind Drobin, it was Indye! The coward had hidden under his blanket during the fight and now he was out trying to kill the easy way. The boy nodded at Aeodor and then jumped on Drobin trying to stab him with a dagger. A trained assassin would of done the job in seconds resorting to a quick slit of the throat rather than throwing themselves at their target. Aeodor was about to help but then someone attacked him with a blow to the head.

Aeodor fell to the floor clutching the back of his head, his vision blurred and his head throbbed but he had to get up.

He pulled himself to his feet, he could hear Drobin and Indye grappling behind him but in front of him was the real problem.

Wuthord stood opposite him at the mouth of the cave, he was cracking his knuckles menacingly and grinning like a fool. ‘I’m gonna enjoy breaking your neck prince!’ he spat, his posh accent was gone, replaced by an angry Barandish accent, showing his true colors. ‘You really thought you could get the better of me didn’t you, well I-’

Aeodor’s fist caught the man’s rough face, something cracked and the bandit fell to the ground. He pulled himself onto his hands and knees and spat out blood and what looked like a tooth.

‘You son of a-’

He didn’t finish his sentence, Aeodor kicked him in the jaw, hard. The man fell to his back clutching his ruined face. He started muttering words but he couldn’t make out a proper sentence. More blood erupted from his mouth like some kind of hellish waterfall. With horror Aeodor realized that the man had bitten half his tongue off.

The bandit coughed, he was slowly choking! Aeodor, feeling remorse for the man decided to end it, he drew his blade and lopped off the man’s head with a quick strike. He didn’t have time to pray for the man though, his friend was in danger.

Aeodor turned to the grappling brothers, they would almost look like normal brothers fighting over a toy, if the toy wasn’t a knife. Aeodor drew his own knife and whispered ‘I’m sorry Indye, I really am.’

Indye looked up in fear as the knife left Aeodor’s hand, it spun towards the boy but Aeodor hadn’t found his mark, the knife hit Drobin in the upper shoulder. It went through the hunter’s shoulder and straight into Indye’s jugular. Blood spurted everywhere from both Indye and Drobin. Aeodor ran forwards to his friend.

‘Payback eh?’ his friend whispered.

‘Yeah, I guess I’ll never work as one of those knife throwers.’ Aeodor said softly to his friend.

The man laughed ‘Yeah, you’d probably kill your assistant!’

They both started laughing uncontrollably for a few minutes but then, wiping his eyes Aeodor stopped and looked at the hole in his friend’s shoulder.

‘We need to get the wound bandaged Drobin.’ Aeodor told him.

‘Aye, we do and we need to find my father and bury him and Indye. I…I can’t hate him…he’s my brother.’ He muttered, ashamed.

‘Agreed. And I understand how you feel Drobin, betrayal’s a harsh thing.’

Aeodor got up but Drobin grabbed his arm ‘But what are we going to do then Aeodor, we need a plan!’

Aeodor winked ‘We take each problem as it comes brother.’

After the wound was dressed the two friends set off for Drolod’s house. They passed the smoking village, there was nothing living left save a few mangy dogs. They moved on.

They walked through the narrow canyon that led back to Drolod’s house and through snow covered fields, everything was quiet save a few birds chirping in the distance. Finally they reached the charred remains of the house.

Graves were dug, side by side next to the smoking ruin and the bodies were placed. Aeodor found some decent sized stones and they made the gravestones.

Here lies Drolod

Died year 3749 on the third day of the seventh week of the Season of Summer

May his soul live on in the land of Torenthus

This Man was murdered, murdered in his own house. His fortune was unjust

Rest In Peace

And on Indye’s they wrote

Here lies Indye

Died year 3749 on the fifth day of the seventh week of the Season of Summer

May his soul be eternally judged for all his misdoings

This Boy killed his father, and tried to murder his brother. But let it be known that he is forgiven and although some will spit upon his grave, others will bless it

Rest In Peace

Aeodor stood strong and proud, he was saddened by the loss of a man he liked, the loss of someone who was almost his second father. But Aeodor shows little when it comes to sadness, he retreats into small, quiet part of his mind and weeps secretly.

Drobin on the other hand, was the opposite. He believes that emotion should be let out, he doesn’t get embarrassed about crying he just lets it all out in a flood of salty tears.

They stood there as the golden sun turned crimson, light left them, just like the closest thing to their heart had.

‘Come on, it’s time to go.’ Aeodor said steadily.

‘I…I let myself go…’ Drobin was staring at the ground, tears dripping from his nose. ‘I got angry and-and I couldn’t control myself…’

‘You had a right to be’ Aeodor reassured him. ‘Any human would, hell being betrayed like that could make someone go a little on the crazy side, don’t worry about it.’

‘I…I can’t though, I don’t think I can kill another…another man again…my own brother!’

‘Listen, I need you. You have a part in all of this, you’re my only and best friend! Without you my cause is lost and then the world will be subjected to a tyrant. We will need to kill, it’s sick but killing is the only way to survive! Now…are you with me?’ Aeodor reached out his hand open.

Drobin stared at the ruff, bloodied hand. Then grasped it.

‘I’m with you Aeodor, I’m with you’ he shook his head. ‘What the hell are we going to do next though? We need friends, powerful friends and-’

‘Oh no, we start with the big fish later, for now we stick with the small ones.’

‘And what are the small ones, we need noble support Aeodor, people high up that can help us!’ Drobin’s tone was urgent, pleading even.

‘Why do you want support from rich people so soon and so much?’ Aeodor asked his eyes suspicious.

‘I-I…I don’t think I can take going to another village Aeodor, I really don’t…’ Drobin hung his head, ashamed.

‘Alright I was planning going to a village, but I wasn’t going to raid it Drobin, do you really think I’d sink as low as the bandits?’

‘N-No…’

‘Good because I’m not…hell I’m going to do the opposite, there are villages out there being taxed to hell by my father right?’

‘Yeah, ours wasn’t because we were deemed to poor, luckily but the ones that are get “Government Protection” which basically means there are guards patrolling day and night, there’s a curfew which is punishable by death and if you don’t pay your taxes,’ Drobin drew his finger across his neck.

‘How many usually occupy a village?’

‘Two dozen or so are usually on patrol at the nearest one, Holsker. But there are more that do night duty and there are the people higher up, officers and the like. I think it adds up to around fifty or sixty.’

‘Great, well I think this mission’s going to require stealth…and lots of it. Nothing we can’t handle I suppose.’

‘We need to plan though, Holsker’s around seventy leagues away east, it’s far but it’s the closest one that Thanodor’s men occupy, the villages in-between here and there are tiny, smaller than ours. They’re usually owned by some stubborn low-life lord that’ll never join us. The only chance we have in getting friends is by taking away the government, everyone hates them.

‘What do they call themselves, apart from the government?’

‘The Arinian Empire.’

‘Well we’ll have to do some scouting…’

‘I hate scouting.’ Drobin muttered and spat on the floor for good measure.

‘Don’t we all’ said the prince, shouldering his pack of possessions. ‘Let’s go.’

[Munaus]

I almost hoped that the post would cut in half and say "Continues in page 3..."

I've forgotten how the story begun, so now I have to start all over again :/

[elmarko98]

Haha, sorry about the long wait. I'll try to post frequently now Thanks for your time as well by the way, it helps a lot :)

[M-C]

I'm kind of going back to the beginning here, but I feel that if you would've explained the prince and his friend a bit more (Why they're great friends, how they always went fishing together (for example), how they've known eachother for so long etc. etc.) I think his death would've had a way bigger impact on me.

[elmarko98]

That is a good point but I think it would've ruined the action at the time. Chapter One was supposed to be snappy, as if he had to get out of Cynidor fast (which he sure did!)

[elmarko98]

Okay here's Chapter Seven, I'll start writing again as soon as I've posted all the chapter's I've done. That's my extremely late new year's resolution.

Chapter Seven

The skies opened and great drops of crystal liquid rained heavily upon the two cloaked companion’s heads. After a few mere seconds their clothes were drenched, four days had passed of cold, heavy travelling. They passed the highlands of Barandor, the country was the same all over: Cold, wet and rough. You couldn’t walk a meter without falling down a ditch or climbing up a steep hill and when there weren’t hills there were mountains. The travelers had occasional passed villages, the peasants were friendly enough, money didn’t matter to them but to their lord it was everything. So after staying in the night and buying a decent amount of food the travelers would leave and head off east. After a few days the village of Holsker was in sight, then the rain hit.

‘This is new, I’ve never heard of rain in Barandor before.’ Aeodor muttered pulling his fur cloak, he wore very heavy fur clothes and carries a large camping pack filled with food, drink, spare clothes and Aeodor’s mail shirt and leggings which tripled the weight of the bag. The prince had gotten shabbier and shabbier until he looked like a normal person, not an over pampered prince of Arinia. His once clean and flawless face was now muddy, rugged and bearded. Aeodor’s beard was getting more and more out of hand, he hasn’t shaved for weeks and it was now closing in on his muscular chest. His hair was worst, strands of his jet black hair hung down over his eyes and not only was it a mess, it smelled. The only thing that hadn’t changed about the princes features were his eyes, they still had that protectiveness in them, like he’d hunt anyone down if they so much as scratched someone he loved, the closest person to him right now was his equally rugged friend, Drobin.

Drobin wore similar clothes and carried a pack with similar things apart from he had a bow as well as a sword. The young man’s face was muddy and travel worn but it didn’t look as aged as Aeodor’s, despite the fact that Aeodor was in his late twenties he looked a lot older. Drobin still had the same humorous eyes and big nose. Somehow the last few days had changed Aeodor, or maybe it was the events beforehand that had made him look older, but inside the prince was still the same man he was when he burned Awinyn’s cottage. Drobin, on the other hand was different, the young hunter had changed a lot, after fighting his own brother and seeing a knife rip through his neck Drobin had mentally changed, it had toughened him up. He’d seen his own brother die, for some that would be traumatizing but for Drobin it was a learning experience, it showed him how the real world is like, things like that happen daily across the globe and now Drobin can take taking a man’s life, it had unlocked something in him that he will use frequently in his later life: the ability to kill.

The hunter chuckled. ‘Rarely, but it does. It’s not as cold right now so there’s no chance for the rain to freeze, at least it’s not hale.’

Aeodor looked up, fear in his eyes ‘What’s hale?’

‘Frozen rain, I wouldn’t advise standing outside when it’s haling in Barandor, it’s not good for one’s health.’

‘Huh…better than rain.’

‘Trust me it’s not, I’d rather be wet then bruised.’

They stumbled down a muddy hill and walked across some fairly flat ground, the Holsker was getting bigger and bigger. An hour later the two friends stumbled into the Lion’s Head, a rowdy local inn, right now it seemed to be shelter for the entire village. Children ran around the room catching each other and wrestling on the ground, dogs slept soundly by the roaring fireplace and men in furs sat around tables and on barstools shouting and singing and trying to drink mead through their noses.

‘Seems like a nice place’ Aeodor shouted to his friend trying to keep his voice level with the uproar.

‘It’s okay as far as Barand pubs go.’ His young friend shouted back.

They pushed their way through the crowd towards the bar, the barman was a scruffy, small man that had to stand on his tiptoes to see over the bar, he wore a white, stained shirt and black trousers. He spoke with a rough Barand accent ‘What can I get yer laddies? You look a little weather worn don’t yer? I’ll fix ye up some mead, go and sit over there and I’ll be righ’ over with something to warm yer bellies.’ he walked off and began to pour the mead.

‘But I don’t want-’ Aeodor began.

Drobin nudged him with an elbow, hard. ‘Aeodor!’ he said out of the corner of his mouth ‘Barands don’t appreciate it when you don’t drink their mead, just go along with it!’

‘But I-’

Drobin pulled him away and found them a table. The barman appeared with two large tankards of mead. ‘Oh there’s a little dirt on this one there is.’ The barman rubbed the side of the tankard with his already stained clothes then walked off.

‘Did you say this was good for Barand pubs?’ Aeodor asked.

‘Yeah, for Barand pubs.’ Drobin said then took a swig of mead.

The mead it seems, wasn’t Aeodor’s drink. Southern drink was a little bit on the strong side and while it tastes okay it definitely wasn’t for the prince.

Birds tweeted to one another outside Aeodor’s window, the prince’s small room was hot, stuffy and cramped. But a bed was a bed and that was all he needed right now. Aeodor groaned and threw one of his pillows at the window, he then realized the window was closed and his attack on the tweeting birds was futile.

The door burst open and the young Drobin walked in, although his eyes were a little haggard he looked fine, he had washed and now he looked like good old Drobin again. ‘Wake up Aeodor! We have things to do!’

Aeodor’s response a pillow in the face. Drobin rubbed his face then decided he had to take drastic action.

‘What the hell are you doing!’ the prince cried as Drobin pulled his sheets off and pulled the mattress off the bed.

‘Waking you up!’ Drobin shouted, he then roughly pulled the prince up and pulled him to the basin: the only other piece of furniture in the room. He then got a handful of water and splashed the prince’s face, he repeated twice then got a towel and rubbed vigorously on the poor man’s face.

‘Ah get off me you little-’ Aeodor shouted as he struggled, finally Drobin released the man.

‘Better now?’

‘A little I suppose…’

‘Good, now get some bloody clothes on!’

Breakfast in the inn was a lot quieter and a lot better. The food was decent and the utensils were clean, the utensils being Aeodor’s fingers.

‘I don’t get it, why can’t these people use knives and forks like the rest of the world does?’ Aeodor complained.

‘Every culture’s different Aeodor, the Arinians may be trying to suppress culture but things like this just can’t be changed.’ Drobin explained.

Aeodor grunted and continued stare at his food, after a few minutes hunger overcame manners and Aeodor tore his chicken leg apart.

‘So,’ the prince chewed and on the juicy meat, savoring the surprisingly good taste. ‘Where were all the guards yesterday?’

‘Yeah, we were lucky. The guards were on patrol but they don’t patrol this side of the river.’

‘What there’s a river?’ Aeodor looked up, the juice from the chicken dripping down his chin.

Drobin sighed, ‘Yes there is Aeodor, did you even look at the map?’

Aeodor hesitated ‘I don’t know…’

‘Urgh, yes there’s a river. It cuts off a tiny sector of the village, about one eighth of it.’

‘Must be a pretty big village then,’

‘More like a small town but for some reason people still see it as a village. Anyway the guards apparently don’t patrol this side because it’s the most rundown and poorest part.’

Aeodor grunted, ‘Makes sense, well at least we’re away from guards here. Urgh my head’ he groaned.

‘Yeah I bet it hurts,’ Drobin agreed, ‘Come on let’s go and explore.’ He got up and winced, clutching his shoulder.

‘Still hurts?’ Aeodor asked, concerned.

‘Yeah, nice…knifemanship’ he grunted.

‘Is that even a word?’

Drobin laughed ‘I don’t bloody know!’

The two friends walked out of the inn, their clothes were still dirty but their faces had that fresh “just slept on a mattress” look. After sleeping on the floor for four day it can make a mattress made out of hair and lice feel good.

The village was a lot nicer when it wasn’t raining, apart from the occasional rogue cloud the sky was empty. There was an icy sheen on everything but the town wasn’t as high up as the mountains so it wasn’t as cold. The hilly land that surrounded the place gave the place an isolated feel to it. People moved from house to house talking to their neighbors, almost every time they passed someone they’d get a friendly “hello!” despite the circumstances. But there was a stiffness in the air, caused by the unfriendly presence of the Arinian Empire. Further down the road Aeodor noticed a bridge, the rain was so heavy the night before he couldn’t see three meters in front of him. The side of the river they were on consisted of the inn, a couple of stalls and a few scruffy looking houses. The roads were dirt and unkempt but they lead to a much richer area. The roads on the other side of the river were made of stone and were on average three stories high, merchant houses were dotted around and the streets were filled with people darting about going about their business. Not a single person stopped to say hello to one another and none of them were calling at a friend’s house, every person in that street had a selfish purpose. The atmosphere on the other side of the river was drastically different.

They crossed the bridge and entered the town, the river was wide and filled with boats, docked or moving. As they walked down the wide street they noticed it branched off in many different directions, although those streets were strangely empty, save the odd shady looking character. The main street was darkened due to the high buildings on either side, like you were on a road with high walls on either side. At the end of the street was the reason it was so busy, the Holsker market.

Stalls of many different colors filled a large paved area, merchants selling wares ranging from Saracsin carpets to Artenean paintings. People shouted random prices in auctions and a beautiful smell of roast meat filled the air. Every food stall was a meat stall in Barandor, surprisingly there were no weapon stalls which were common in all countries. ‘My father’s doing I’ll bet.’ Aeodor thought.

On the other side of the market was the town hall, a vast building that showed no aesthetic qualities but certainly made up for that in size. The building covered the whole other end of the square. Huge white pillars surrounded the entrance and a castle tower stuck out of its roof, the tower looked newly built and Arinian, Aeodor guessed it was where the newly appointed governor lived.

‘Excuse me,’ the prince grabbed the shoulder of a rough Barand, the man wore furs like the rest of the Barands and he had a great shaggy beard.

‘Yeah, what d’you want?’ he asked in a coarse voice.

‘Who lives in that tower?’ the prince said indicating the tower.

‘The Baron of course, where ‘ave you been livin’, in a ditch? Every occupied settlement across the world ‘as one! They control the people and the money and the soldiers.’

‘Across the globe?’ Drobin exclaimed.

‘Yeah, the Arinians are the top dog now mate, better git used to it.’

The man walked away, Aeodor looked around. Sure enough, armored soldiers bearing the Arinian banner across their surcoats; a red dragon with two stripes in the background, one black one yellow. The soldiers’ armor was top class, steel plate with a mail undercoat and a full face helmet. It was the kind of armor knights used to wear. On rooftops guards patrolled with bows at the ready, they were also similarly garbed.

‘It’s gonna be hard taking this place Drobin,’ Aeodor told him.

‘Aye, for certain. What are we gonna do Aeodor?’

‘We’ll figure something out, I think we should start with the west side of town.’

‘Across the river?’

‘Yeah, come on we need to explore the rest of this place.’

The rest of the town it seemed, was just rows of buildings with streets going in between them. The only notable landmarks were the docks and the occasional barracks, the place was well fortified, although it didn’t have a wall the river spans for miles and splits into two when it enters the town providing a natural wall for the citizens. The bridges have thick wooden gates and every building has walkways on top for archers, it is very similarly built to Cynidor, Aeodor’s old home.

Soon, the sun hit the horizon; indicating it was time to go back to the inn. After nearly an hour they reached the inn, they bought a couple of drinks then sat at the shadiest corner in the bar they could find.

‘So, the place is pretty damn big, I’d say fortifying and defending it would be fairly easy, the river acts as a wall on its own.’ Aeodor began after a sip of mead.

‘There’s just one problem Aeodor, we need to capture it first!’ Drobin took a noticeably larger “sip” of mead.

‘That will be fairly hard on our own,’ Aeodor admitted. ‘But who said we need to be on our own?’ He said slyly.

‘What you mean-’

‘The townsfolk might need a little shove but if we take one of those barracks then we have ourselves an armory full of gear and an angry unarmored mob. Hmmm get any ideas from that?’

‘Yeah we give them armor and weapons and they’ll take the town by themselves, great plan except there’s still the problem of taking the barracks! It’ll be full of heavily equipped, well trained soldiers against a group of village bumpkins with pitchforks and hatchets!’

‘Lead by us.’ Aeodor reminded him.

‘What do you mean lead by-’ he thought for a moment. ‘Oh I see, you think they can win with your leadership.’

‘Did I ever tell you how I lead an scouting party against the Ellendan host…and won?’ Aeodor asked, his nose twitching slyly.

‘No…you didn’t…’

‘And how about when aIorganized your village and almost won against an army of armed bandits?’

‘I suppose that did work but-’ Drobin began uncertainly.

‘Listen,’ Aeodor said confidently. ‘I know I can do this! I just need you to know that as well.’

Drobin let out a long, dreary sigh. ‘I suppose I’ll have to, come on then let’s get-’ Drobin stared at something, then quickly looked away. His face was urgent. ‘Aeodor, we’re being followed!’

‘What? By whom?’ the prince sat up startled drawing the looks of a few people.

Drobin pulled him back down. ‘Don’t draw attention Aeodor!’ Drobin thought for a moment. ‘We need to find out what he wants.’

‘I know, we’ll lead him to a back alley in the main town and jump him!’ Aeodor said, his eyes lighting up.

‘That’s a bit reckless Aeodor…’

‘Nothing’s too reckless for an Arinian, come on!’

Drobin sighed again and followed the prince out the inn. As they walked away Aeodor whispered ‘How did you know he’s following us?’

‘I saw him at the market and once when we were exploring the rest of the city, I thought nothing of it but when I saw him back at the inn I knew he was following us.’

They carried on into the town, making sure they were away all the barracks they casually walked into one of the alleys. A few crates were piled up on either side, perfect for cover and at the end of an alley was a dead end.

‘Hide behind that one, I’ve got this one.’ Aeodor whispered. ‘When he walks past you attract his attention and I’ll grab him from behind.’

Drobin nodded and positioned himself behind a pile of crates and Aeodor hid behind the other pile. After a few minutes a cloaked man entered the alley, he wore a long black cloak with the hood up, it covered his face and body but Aeodor heard the clink of mail under the man’s cloak and he wore iron boots with nasty spikes sticking out the toes. It certainly wasn’t Arinian armor.

Aeodor looked at Drobin and mouthed ‘Is it him?’ Drobin nodded then got ready.

The second the man walked past Drobin whispered ‘Oy fatty!’

The man spun around and his hand found his sword. Before he could draw it Aeodor had wrapped his arm around the man’s neck and pressed a dagger to his throat.

Drobin leaped forward and drew the man’s sword before he could touch and stepped back. ‘Nice sword’ he muttered examining it then pointing it at the man’s throat.

‘Why are you following us?’ Aeodor whispered in the man’s ear.

‘I ain’t telling you nothin’!’ the man struggled but he couldn’t break Aeodor’s savage grip.

‘You’d better rethink that!’ Aeodor said fiercely, pushing the dagger harder. Blood dripped from the man’s throat.

‘Uh I…I can’t tell you!’ the man gurgled as Aeodor tightened his grip.

‘Bad answer.’ Aeodor said flatly. He spun the man around so he was facing him then punched him in the stomach, hard.

The man flew backwards clutching his stomach. Aeodor drew his sword and pointed it at the man’s throat. ‘Made up your mind yet?

The cloaked man coughed, ‘I…I work for the Blue Shadows…’

‘The who?’ Aeodor said, confused.

‘They’re a mercenary group here, we practically own this town until the Arinians came.’ The man spat, ‘We…don’t like newcomers. They sent me to see what you were up to.’

An idea sprung to Aeodor’s mind. ‘Do you like the Arinian Empire friend?’

The man thought for a moment, ‘No, I hate them!’

‘What about the Blue Shadows? Do they like them?’

‘No, they hate them more than I do.’

Aeodor spun his blade around skillfully and sheathed it. He then offered his hand to the man. He looked up showing his face, he had brown eyes and a thick black stubble. Shaggy strands of black hair hung over his face and a long scar swept across his face. At first the man looked uncertain but then he smiled and took Aeodor’s hand. The prince pulled the man up, ‘What’s your name friend?’

‘Pios, why…why did you let me up?’

‘You hate the Empire right?’

‘Yeah, like I said.’

‘Well let’s just say you’re looking at the resistance.’

Pios’s mouth hit the floor. ‘You’re joking.’

‘Nope, it’s in its early stages but hopefully this’ll blossom into something real nice. I’d like you to take me to these…Blue Shadows, they’ll make my life a lot easier.’

‘I’m sure my master would very much want to see you. Follow me.’ The man began to walk but Aeodor quickly grabbed him by the shoulder.

‘One wrong move and I kill you, understand?’

Pios looked fearfully at Aeodor’s sword, ‘Sure…thing’

They set off, Pios in front and Aeodor and Drobin behind with their blades ready.

The man led them a few meters then stopped.

‘This is it? The grand headquarters of your group is a street?’ Drobin asked angrily.

‘No…it’s beneath the street.’ Pios grabbed the manhole at his feet and lifted it. ‘A lot of people have got stuck outside the headquarters because they couldn’t lift the manhole!’ he said as he climbed into the sewers.

‘Wonderful.’ Aeodor mumbled then climbed in after him.

Drobin sighed once again and climbed in after them, pulling the manhole over them.

They climbed down the rusty ladder until they hit the slimy stone ground. Strangely there were lights lining one side of the wall.

‘Pios, why the hell is there a sewer under Holsker?’ Drobin asked, the question had obviously been bugging him.

‘We built them, our whole group. Our old headquarters wasn’t big enough and we found a pretty big cave system so we dug a bit, made some manholes, convinced the public it was a sewage system and boom! We have our headquarters.’ Pios said smugly.

‘That’s pretty clever actually, how long did it take to dig?’

‘Not long most of it was done for us by the gods! This area we’re in now was dug out but soon, as we go deeper you’ll notice the ground won’t be so smooth.’

They travelled deeper into the cave and the ground sure did get rough. The line of torches never seemed to end though. Soon the ground leveled out and opened into a huge, well lit cavern. At the other end of the cavern was a large, wooden door with an emblem painted on the front. The emblem was a simple red shield with two white swords crossing over it with a rising blue sun in the background.

‘Welcome,’ Pios began. ‘To the-’

‘Headquarters of the Blue Shadows, I can see that.’ Aeodor laughed.

Suddenly, the great doors opened. A tall, bald man in black, gold trimmed chainmail armor walked out. He had a short goatee beard and dark green eyes, his brow was furrowed with suspicion and his sword was drawn. ‘What the hell are they doing here Pios!’

Eight armed men wearing the same armor without the gold, a black full face helmet and a halberd at the ready. Aeodor and Drobin drew their weapons and went back to back.

Aeodor looked angrily at Pios ‘You tricked us!’

‘I didn’t…’ Pios began.

There was a loud thud and Drobin suddenly collapsed. Before Aeodor could turn around to help something hard hit his head. Aeodor fell to his knees, blood tripped down his forehead. The prince heard footsteps, he looked up to see the bald man’s foot speeding towards his face, intense pain clouded the prince’s mind then he blacked out.

[elmarko98]

Chapter Eight

Thanodor was brooding, the great throne room he sat in really didn’t satisfy him. Sure the priceless red velvet curtains and carpet made it look fancy, and the golden candlesticks and painting frames gave the room that nice expensive glint it needed but apart from all the paintings and windows there was nothing else, just a plain marble floor with a red carpet going down it towards the throne. The room needed décor, lots of it.

‘Orthol!’ Thanodor boomed. ‘Get over here!’

The Grand Steward of the Arinian Empire scurried in like a diseased rat. He wore grey robes that would have been grand were they not worn by him. He was in his late forties and it was showing in his face and hair. Grey strands plagued his scraggy black hair and lines covered his cowardly face. The man was on that note; a coward. He would jump at anything and the slightest hint of a fight would send him scurrying to the backdoor shaking all over like a startled cat. The fact that this man was the second most powerful man in the world made him slightly intimidating first glance but after a few seconds of conversation you would quickly realize the man’s a liability with an awful stammer.

‘Y-Yes m-milord?’ he stammered.

‘This place is boring, there’s no sculptures, fountains anything! I want the designer of this room executed!’ Thanodor commanded with his loud, mighty voice. You could tell this man is the ruler of the world just by listening to him. He’s not one that expects to be disobeyed.

Orthol gulped, he was the designer of the room. But blames can be shifted. ‘I’ll g-get r-right on i-it milord.’

‘Good, then get a new one that has some degree of intelligence. Now leave me.’

‘Y-Yes s-sire…’ The Steward scurried away as fast as his shaking legs could carry him.

Thanodor sat there for a while, his crimson and red robes were itchy but he was used to it. Appearances matter in court and Thanodor certainly was in a court.

Petrano strode in, he donned his blue and gold doublet and hose. There wasn’t a time Thanodor didn’t see him in those clothes, same with his other son Vasilio except he wears red and gold. The Prince had his sword by his side, he always likes to carry his bow but Thanodor didn’t allow it in the palace, besides it would be useless in such close quarters. Petrano’s face hadn’t changed over the years apart from growing a light goatee that looked extremely unprofessional. He still had the same flawless features like his other brother, they both looked different though: Petrano had a long somber face while Vasilio had a broader, stronger face. Petrano could learn a lot from his older brother, the man wore the right clothes and always kept professional. That’s why Thanodor put him in command of the army; High General Vasilio was his title, much more impressive than Prince Vasilio. Petrano controlled the knights though, Thanodor had to give him something to do.

‘Father, there’s an issue.’ Petrano began.

Thanodor sighed. ‘What is it now son?’

‘There is unrest in the city, everyone isn’t content with your recruitment standards and the insanely high tax. It’s too much father!’

Thanodor instantly knew what to do, he had to be vigilant and vigilance means action. ‘Orthol!’ he called.

The Steward scurried in again, Petrano looked at the man with obvious contempt and revulsion.

‘Y-Yes my exalted L-Lord?’ Orthol murmured uncertainly.

‘I have an order, an important one.’ Thanodor began. ‘The citizens of Yor Athropis are discontented with the way we’ve been treating them. Exterminate ten percent of the population, close every gate then do it. Hang any soldier that doesn’t obey and no children are to be killed and no looting to be done, NOW!’

‘O-Of c-course my l-lord.’ The man began to scurry away but Petrano called after him.

‘Orthol don’t do it! Think about all those people!’

Orthol looked at the Prince with a look that said: better them than me.

Petrano snorted with disgust then turned to face his king, Thanodor was blind with rage.

‘How dare you…how bloody dare you!’ his father shouted at the top of his voice. ‘I keep this family together! I keep this kingdom together, these people must be ruled with an iron fist Petrano! An iron fist!’ he smashed his fist on the side of the throne and his voice turned quiet. ‘Ever…ever since…your mother died.’ He hung his head, tears dripped onto his gown. ‘Ever since your mother died I…I’ve regretted every bad order I…I’ve given but I have to son…I have to…’

Petrano blinked away tears. ‘Why father, why do you have to do these things. Why do we need such an army, all those millions of families that have been split apart because of our recruitment, just like ours…all those lives lost…’

‘It’s for the greater good!’ Thanodor rose his voice again. ‘The good of all civilization!’

‘I…I don’t think you…understand what good means any more father…’

Thanodor looked at him with reddened eyes. ‘Get out.’ He spoke quietly but his voice was sharp and tinge to it like it was ready to snap.

Petrano, knowing he’d crossed the line slowly backed out of the room, keeping his eyes on his father the whole time, as soon as his back hit the door he swung it open and sped away.

Thanodor stared at the same spot for a few minutes then got up. He pulled back a panel on his throne and pressed an odd button on it. The throne slid sideways revealing a dark room behind it.

Thanodor stepped in his secret haven, pressing the button to close the door as he entered. Gears grinded and the door slid shut. Inside was a scene from a nightmare but Thanodor was used to it, ever since he built the place and hung the corpses up he had visited the place too many times for it to scare him. Skeletons and rotting corpses hung from the walls with their hands and feet tied to the wall, at first glance they looked like dead, forgotten prisoners but they were of a darker nature.

At the end of the room a large black skull with two skeletal hands that looked as if they were placing a spell on it. In the middle of the room was a desk with various books on it and an alchemy lab.

Thanodor strode towards the desk and began reading one of the books. After a few minutes he put the book down then stood in the centre of the room like a statue. He pulled his magicka from the depths of his body just like the old man taught him, he gathered the magic in his fist then converted the raw magic into what he wanted; life. He opened his fist and a ball of pure shadow appeared in his hand. He smiled at it and threw it to his other hand like a ball. Then he focused it and threw it at one of the skeletons, almost instantly the shadow consumed the body and was absorbed by it. After a few seconds the skeleton’s eyes lit up in an eerie purple color. The skeleton looked at its master then started to struggle against its bounds. Thanodor drew his pistol, loaded it and fired. The skeleton’s head exploded and its eyes went dim. Suddenly Thanodor gasped, the moment was so like the one when he shot Aeodor his youngest son. He shook his head as if in a daze then went back to reading.

Invincibility is the final stage of learning Necromancy. Not many get here never mend achieve it, the process of becoming invulnerable and immortal is a painful one but extremely beneficial. An invincible necromancer is known as a Lich, as well as becoming invincible your power will triple in magnitude. Liches are the most feared things on earth but as a warning you must know that society will not accept you if you are one. When a Lich your face will pale, all your go purple and show and your eyes will begin to glow much like your rejuvenated corpses. If you are still willing to proceed then please, read on.

All you need is a life stone, these are simply jewels. The more expensive the more life they’ll hold.

The first thing in the process to becoming a Lich is the removal of all of one’s organs, to do this without killing yourself you must cast the sustain spell I taught you on Pg 1423. While sustaining yourself you must cut yourself open and remove ONE organ at a time. Remove your least vital ones first (see Pg 324 for information on human vitals), when you have removed one then you must sew yourself back up then stop casting the spell. Now you must quickly past a draining spell (Pg 472) on the organ and extract its life-force into your life stone. The jewel should start to glow dimly. Repeat this process until you have no organs left in your body apart from your brain. Remember your life stone must be touching you AT ALL TIMES once you’ve removed your first organ. You may place your life stone in your power armor/robes but that requires you to wear your apparel of power at all times.

When your organs are removed you must…

Thanodor stopped, the rest he knew. Once the necessary spells were complete all he had to do was wait a few years and he’d be invincible.

He removed his robes, his whole torso was covered in stitches and his skin was inhumanly pale, strapped to the centre of the man’s chest was a glowing purple diamond. In glass containers below the black skull were his heart, bladder, lungs, liver, stomach and intestines.

The path to immortality was almost complete.

‘Look at it brother, the world’s gone to hell!’ Petrano spat.

‘What do you mean Petrano?’ Vasilio, Petrano’s noticeably smaller but stockier brother.

They stood outside the Palace, a huge structure made of dull grey stone. Turrets and towers were dotted in a mad formation, black silhouettes wielding bows patrolled the battlements and the occasional light of a torch dimmed as one of the guards passed it. It was midnight and Petrano had asked his brother to meet him in the Imperial Courtyard, the place was huge just like the Royal Courtyard back in Cynidor except bigger, this place was now referred to as the Garden of Eden nowadays instead of the one in Cynidor. Because the castle sat atop a great hill the courtyard was rather high up, so a high stone wall was place around it topped with iron spikes giving the outside of the courtyard the look of a graveyard. There were viewing platforms on the wall that overlooked the entire city, although the city didn’t look very grand at the moment and it wasn’t because it was dark.

Great pillars of flame rose up into the sky bellowing black smoke into the already polluted atmosphere. Those fires weren’t wood or coal fires, they were human bodies; piled up and burned.

‘All the millions of people that have been murdered, piled up and burned like mere trees.’ Petrano leaned on wall staring at the city, screams rang across the city and musket fire could be heard. The most common sound in Yor Athropis was gears grinding and furnaces pumping out smoke, the city was the most polluted place in the world, the sky was dark at day time and black clouds always hung in the air. The city was built for one purpose: Production. The place mass produces armor, guns, spears and swords. It’s all one big factory made to fuel the Great Army of Illensia.

The citizens were simply placed here for money. Citizens’ equal tax as the King says. They’re not people to him, they’re simply an asset.

‘They deserved it brother,’ Vasilio said trying to be reasonable. ‘They rebelled and father-’

‘They didn’t rebel!’ Petrano shouted. ‘They were discontented because their families are being taken away from them and their money is being stolen by the king!’

Vasilio’s face reddened, a trait he had gotten from his father. ‘How dare you question father’s rule!’ he roared. ‘Do you even understand what he’s been through? Your thirty five years old and you still don’t understand how kingdoms work!’

Petrano’s closed his eyes suppressing his anger, then he turned around and walked away.

‘Where the hell are you going!?’ Vasilio called.

‘Hell’s a way to describe this place but I didn’t think it’d be a way to describe its people.’

‘Captain, what…what do you think about the King? Petrano said one bright morning.

‘Honestly my lord?’ the Captain asked.

‘Yes’

‘I think he’s evil and twisted. Or in lighter terms, I think he’s lost his marbles.’ The Captain spoke in a rough countryman accent that showed his background of a farmer. The differences in him and his lord’s speech were staggering and showed how different certain parts of the world are.

‘Then we have something we agree on.’

The captain grinned showing a few missing teeth. ‘Like the millions of other things we agree on!’

Petrano laughed. It was an ongoing joke between them, whether it be a philosophical debate or what tactics to use in certain situations they always disagreed on it. Despite this they are the best of friends despite the status difference.

Captain Yanthi or Dol Yanthi if the situation was informal is a tall burly man. He’s the kind of man that prefers to swing an axe then play with “a metal toothpick” as he puts it. Although he looks like the kind of person who likes smashing first and asking questions later he’s still extremely clever. He has a thick black stubble and short black hair giving him the common look of a forester. A long scar streaked across his cheekbone where a sword had nicked him once in his youth and he had honest brown eyes that also gave the impression that the man reacts badly to teasing. Despite Dol’s long, successful military career he had never been promoted further than Captain, he’d been demoted because the army sees every little thing he does wrong as a catastrophe that costs the army dearly. The man always rises back up though. But as if by some unspoken law he isn’t allowed to go past Captain. He suspected it was because he’s Barandish, the Arinians are a very prejudice people.

The two friends sat in the high ranking lunch hall, technically the Captain wasn’t allowed in there but Petrano had pulled some strings. They sat there sharing an extremely expensive lobster, despite the fact Petrano could get it for free he still only got one. The prince wasn’t one to waste and one lobster was enough for two people…according to him.

‘But seriously though’ Petrano continued. ‘Millions of people have died today, the population of Yor Athropis is…what is it?’

‘Over a hundred million.’ Dol told him.

‘So ten million people have died today at least!’ Petrano said, astonished.

Dol’s eyes widened ‘I knew it was bad but…’

‘Not that bad…’ Petrano hung his head in shame. ‘What have I done? What has he done?’ he groaned. ‘The world’s gone to hell…’

‘It wasn’t your fault Petrano,’ the captain assured him. ‘How could you possibly know his mind’s gone south?’

‘I should have known, I-I could have stopped him…and Vasilio believes he’s right…’

‘Vasilio’s gone too? Oh Gods above…’

‘I don’t think even the Gods can help us now…’

They left the table, leaving the half eaten steaming lobster behind.

[Munaus]

Never understood people who leave food on the table and leave...

It's very disrespectful for the animal to be killed, cooked ( or in this case, lobsters are cooked alive!) and prepared for dinner only to be ignored.

And yes I just cheated and read the last part...

*flips a page back and continues to read*

I hate when I jump a few pages forward on a good book only to see what will happen, only to find out "oh noes, He did tHAT?????"

It's almost like I enjoy teasing myself with spoilers when I dont want to :P

[elmarko98]

I'm sure the lobster was eaten by someone else Munaus

[poryy]

Nope. Chuck lobster. Blarg blarg

[elmarko98]

Oh that's where that lobster went!

Also as a little early christmas present: two chapters in one day!!!

Chapter Nine

Everything was blurry, as if you were underwater with no goggles. Aeodor’s vision faded in and out as he regained consciousness.

‘He’s awakening,’ a gruff voice said.

‘W-What? What’s going on?’ Aeodor mumbled as he regained his senses. He moved his hand to scratch his nose but something rough but flexible blocked his wrist, he tried the other; same results. He looked down and realized his wrists were bound to a chair.

‘Oh hell…’ the prince looked up, a rough, groggy face met his. ‘W-Who are you?’

‘I’m Grethork friend!’ he announced grandly. ‘King of this fine underground palace!’ he said gesturing around him, the room he was in happened to be a large cavern with a wooden floor, mould and moss covered the walls and stagnant water dripped through a grate in the ceiling. ‘Or Leader of the Blue Shadows if you have to be so formal about it.’ He smiled warmly with a hint of madness but his eyes were cold and glimmering with intelligence.

‘Pleased…to meet you…’ Aeodor mumbled still barely conscious.

Grethork made the exaggerated movement of putting his hand to his ear and jerking his head closer, ‘What was that friend? You mumbled a bit then.’

‘You heard me…’ Aeodor said a little louder.

Grethork sighed ‘Oh you’re no fun! Now,’ he rubbed his hands together. ‘On to business.’ Suddenly his face turned from warm and mad to deadly serious and slightly angry. ‘Who the hell are you?’ The sudden change of expression and tone was meant to startle Aeodor but the prince wasn’t impressed

‘My name’s Prince Aeodor of Arinia’ Aeodor suspected the man wouldn’t like that but he had a feeling it will be helpful in the long run.

Grethork’s eyes widened in shock, but he quickly composed himself and continued. ‘You’re dead though…’

‘That’s what everyone thinks, I’m alive as you can see though. My father shot me.’

The mercenary grinned wickedly his eyes lit up with curiosity ‘And I’m guessing you want revenge on him…am I right?’

‘Yes, I want to restore order.’

‘I think we may be able to come to an agreement then’ Grethork said, his eyes glinting with mischief.

‘What do you have in mind?’ Aeodor asked, suggestively glancing towards his bounds.

Grethork laughed, ‘I am sorry dear friend, I forgot.’ He pulled a sharp, expensive-looking knife and cleanly cut through the ropes attaching his hands to the chair.

Aeodor stood up, rubbing his wrists. He studied his surroundings more thoroughly. The only furniture in the room was a large, dirty desk coupled with an equally dirty and large chair. Rough papers covered it and an ink pot and a quill sat spilt across it all. The room smelt of stagnant water and the only other inhabitants were rats and armored Blue Sun mercenaries wielding halberds.

‘Excuse the mess’ Grethork gestured to the messy desk.

‘No problem, what is this place?’ Aeodor asked.

‘The lovely meeting room of my group…also my office. This is the biggest and probably the worst room in my complex. The others are far more…pleasant. We have an infirmary, an archery range, training room, armory and rooms for sleeping and murdering people in their beds. There’s also a treasury but that’s not important.’ He chuckled. ‘At least not to you I’ll bet.’

‘Where’s Drobin?’

‘Oh he’s fine, we have him in the infirmary now getting patched up. I had a good feeling about you two, I don’t know why. But I guess it paid off!’ he laughed and begun walking to his desk.

‘What were you going to do if you didn’t?’ Aeodor asked uncertainly.

The bald man sat at his desk ‘Fill you with arrows, why do you ask?’

‘Curiosity…’ Aeodor said quickly. He studied the man, he had a wispy beard, a glossy hairless head and small brown eyes. He wore robes with a similar color scheme to his armor; black and gold. A golden hilt of a sword hung at his side with a black and gold scabbard. ‘You people must be earning a lot.’

Grethork grunted ‘We USED to, that was since the god damn Arinians came. My armor is worth more than the whole cave system…and everything in it!. Sorry for stamping on your face before by the way Aeodor, if you haven’t figured out it was me yet.’

‘Apology accepted and yeah, I did.’ They both laughed and even one of the stony faced guards chuckled.

‘Go and clean yourself up Aeodor. You’re a mess with all that blood and I…may have broken your nose. Nothing my medic can’t fix though! Now go, off with you! Shoo!’ He waved his arms at the prince as if he was scaring away a bird. Aeodor walked out of the room, then a voice echoed through the corridor he was walking through. ‘Wrong way Aeodor…’

The narrow corridors that connected the jumbled cave complex were almost too similar to the corridors of dungeons. Rusted iron grates dotted the walls and the occasional intimidating chain hung on the mold encrusted wall. Despite his gloomy surroundings on the way to the infirmary, Aeodor felt rather elated. He had gained a powerful ally the end of the first of many long tunnels was in view, things were starting to look up. He didn’t know what to think of the man, he had a mixed personality that was for sure. The craziness was a show to trick someone he was wary of, he could be brutal as well as friendly and one very useful thing Aeodor had discovered: the man showed his true emotions through his eyes. It seemed that he trusts Aeodor now, he let him walk around the compound freely and he’s giving him free healthcare. In Aeodor’s eyes that was incompetence, he still didn’t trust the man but every ally is valuable. But the alliance seems legit and the friendship true. Aeodor reached the door to the infirmary, he was feeling more and more hopeful as he passed soldier after soldier guarding doors and patrolling the corridors, the soldiers were mostly well equipped but the state of their training was still a question. The door to the infirmary was in good shape, like it had just been fitted. There was a brass plaque with infirmary labeled in exquisite writing placed firmly at the top of it. Aeodor politely knocked.

A small, thin man opened the door, his hands were shaking visibly but he didn’t look scared. He had short white hair and a wispy goatee. His blue eyes lit up his weary old face, he wore a white shirt with a black waistcoat and trousers. ‘Can I help you sir?’ the man greeted cautiously.

‘Yes, I was sent by Grethork to get…cleaned up.’ Aeodor informed him.

‘Ah yes, come in, come in.’

The old man unsteadily turned around and reentered the room at a slow pace, Aeodor strode in after him.

The room inside was small but strangely cozy. Opposite the door was a roaring fireplace coupled with a stained, wooden mantelpiece with a large painting of a huge woman above it. To the right of the mantelpiece was a kitchen-like setup but for medicine instead of food. The counters were covered in various vials and bottles full to the brim with wondrous mixtures of various, vibrant colors. To the left were three large beds with milk white sheets. Occupying one bed was Aeodor’s companion and friend Drobin.

‘Aye,’ the old man said in a strong Barand accent, seeing Aeodor look at his friend. ‘The young lad took quite a hit to the head he did. He’s all patched up now though and he’s makin’ a fine recovery.’

‘The man’s been good Aeodor.’ Drobin said looking up. ‘Never had such a fine doctor, we should ask him to join our cause.’

‘We’ll see my friend,’ Aeodor said remembering that Drobin used to live in a hut several leagues away from the nearest village and had never properly received healthcare.

‘Sit over there Aeodor, I’m Robert Bincolthor by the way, most just call me Binc though, they all do.’ he extended his arm.

Aeodor shook it then strode over to the bed. The doctor seemed to know that he wasn’t here to deliver a message or anything, Aeodor wasn’t sure whether that was a good sign, it could mean that his face is so ruined by being stomped on that the doctor just instantly knew or he got a message early about Aeodor’s arrival.

‘Are the Bincolthors a clan?’ Aeodor asked. In Arinia your surname was the name of your father with son at the end. If you were a woman it would be the name of your daughter with daughter at the end. In other countries there is a similar system so surnames were only used on formal occasions but if you had a surname like Bincolthor it means you’re part of a house or clan and therefore makes you important.

‘Yes…we used to own this town…until the bloody Arinians came. I’m going to have a word with your father about his policies.’ The doctor seemed to know a disturbing amount about Aeodor.

‘Clans own settlements?’ Aeodor asked he knew how the clans worked but not how much power they had. Barand clans choose the successor to the leader of their clan by sending all his children into the wild to hunt, whoever got the best trophy became leader. In the royal clans it was more brutal however. The children would compete by fighting to the death in an arena for all the people to watch, the last man standing would become the leader.

‘Aye, there are usually one or two underlings. The leader of an underling clan may challenge the leader of the clan in control to a fight to the death. If he wins then his clan’s in charge. The Bincolthors have never lost supremacy’ the old man said proudly.

‘Were you leader?’ asked Aeodor.

Binc shook his head, ‘I didn’t bother with any of that pig’s crap, during the hunt I sat down and had a beer. When the Arinians took over two of my three brothers were killed…the third was thrown into prison…’ the old man’s eyes were filled with tears but he suppressed them.

‘Don’t worry Binc…we’ll get your brother back.’

Binc smiled ‘I know you will Aeodor, I know you will…’ he said almost knowingly. ‘Now lets look at that pretty face of yours.’

‘Ah…’ Binc said after a closer look at the young prince’s face. ‘It seems…your left cheekbone is fractured. I’m surprised you stood up, an injury like that would knock a normal man out cold.’

‘I’m no normal man.’ Aeodor murmured. He was glad for his Dragonskin waistcoat, the warmth it generated kept him alert and ready. He suspected the sewers didn’t have a heating system.

‘So it would seem.’ He examined his face some more, ‘Your nose is ruined but you have to be a doctor to see that. Okay I’ll patch you up, give you some Githio Chlorick and you’ll be golden.’

‘What’s Githio Chlorick?’ Aeodor asked nervously.

‘A little thing I mixed up several years ago. Don’t worry it’s not painful…but rather uncomfortable.’

‘Oh no…’

When the bandage was in place the shaky doctor rummaged around in his kitchen-like medicine cabinet and pulled out the vilest looking liquid Aeodor had ever seen. It was in a plain glass bottle with a cork stopper, the liquid was a murky grey-green with floating bright green clumps of mush within that resembled ones nose contents.

The doctor scurried over with a brush and the bottle. He dipped the brush in and rubbed it on Aeodor’s nose and cheekbone. ‘This is to tell the liquid where to do its magic, genius really.’

Aeodor braced himself as the doctor handed him a spoon heaped with the medicine. Nervously he opened his mouth and emptied the contents of the spoon onto his tongue.

Nothing prepared him for the strangely sweet taste, it was extremely similar to tea with lots of sugar. The aftertaste was what he expected, it was as bitter and sour making Aeodor’s fair face curl into an ugly grimace.

Binc grunted ‘You took it better than most I can give you that.’

‘Thanks.’ Aeodor mumbled. The good news, besides Aeodor’s screaming taste buds, was that it seemed to be working. All those taste buds hadn’t died painful deaths in vain. The bad news was Aeodor’s face seemed to be rearranging itself. His cheekbone moved up and down, inwards and outwards with a sickening pop every now and then. His nose was equally active and if anything more so.

‘Okay, I think that’s enough healing princes for me today. Out with you! You too Drobin, out!’ Binc shouted.

‘How did you-?’ Aeodor began, bewildered.

‘I said OUT!’

‘What a grumpy old man.’ Drobin exclaimed bitterly.

‘How did he know I was a prince?’ Aeodor wondered.

A guard grunted ‘You haven’t figured it out? He’s a wizard!’

Drobin’s mouth hit the floor in wonder ‘I-I-I n-never seen a wizard before…’

‘It’s alright he won’t zap you.’ The guard assured him. ‘Anyway, places to be. I hope you two are in good health, Grethork wants you to meet him in the main chamber.’

‘Thanks’ Aeodor murmured, deep in thought. A wizard would be invaluable, especially one practiced in the arts of healing.

By the time they reached the main chamber Aeodor’s face was healed, the man most of been a wizard and a good one.

‘Ah I see Robert patched you up, you look so much better without blood all over your face Aeodor.’ He beckoned them over to a large table with a map of Holsker spread across it. ‘Come, come. We need to discuss strategy!’ He said the last word with a worrying amount of enthusiasm.

The map showed how large Holsker really was. Buildings large and small filled the huge sheet of parchment. Various markings were dotted on buildings and some were in different colors.

‘They’re for my men,’ he explained seeing what Aeodor was looking at. ‘Little notes from operatives on certain buildings, this is used for them mainly but this is a special occasion.’ He grinned at them. ‘Now, to business!’

Various strategies were made and discarded. The main idea of using the townsfolk was a valid and vital point in every one of them, the townsfolk were a vital resource. They were up all day, or night Aeodor couldn’t tell underground but his gut told him it was day. Hours passed and the noise from the town above stopped echoing through the compound. Finally the prince and his friend and the mercenary leader and his generals decided and agreed on a battle plan. Positions and the time and date were made and they all called it a day. In two days at nightfall: the path to the throne will begin.

Aeodor shook his friend’s sleeping body. ‘It’s time’ he whispered.

Drobin’s eyes shot open and he jumped out of bed with the grace of a gazelle. In seconds he was in full clothing.

‘You’re an early bird; I’m struggling to keep my eyes open.’ Aeodor noticed.

‘Being a hunter has its advantages.’ Drobin shrugged his eyes alert. ‘Let’s go.’

The main chamber was full of armed soldiers. Every one of them wore the chainmail armor the guards wore when they captured Aeodor and Drobin but it was coupled with a plate chestpiece and pauldrons with red trims similar to fire. In the centre of the chestpiece and on the face of the right pauldron was the red shield with two white swords and a blue sun rising. The insignia of the Blue Shadows. They also donned a full helm with a thin line across the face for the soldier to see, it’s hard to win a battle when you can’t see.

The fact that this is a mercenary group was obvious, everyone had a different weapon. But everyone was in uniform showing it’s a professional mercenary group.

‘Ah there you are!’ Grethork hailed them. ‘The moon is high and the sky clear, a perfect time for a battle!’ There was a mad glint to the man’s eyes, the man was calm in official affairs but before and probably in battle the man was dangerously excitable.

Grethork wore exactly the same armor as everyone else, except the red trims were gold. Sure to attract attention.

‘Your army is a good size.’ Aeodor noted.

‘Aye and that’s not all of them! We’re five hundred strong!’ Grethork grinned. ‘And they’re professional, better than the group of lazy buffoons we’re up against eh?’ They all laughed like old friends, that’s the best way to fight off nerves. Laugh it off.

‘When are we off?’ Drobin asked nervously.

‘I’ve given everyone an hour to muster here, that time is almost up. You also need to get geared up lads.’ He shouted something to someone and a mercenary carried to sets of the same armor he donned over on a cart. ‘Freshly made for you two, come on put them on!’ he said excited to see them in it.

‘I’ve never worn plate before.’ Drobin said, Aeodor had a few times but he preferred lighter garbs.

‘Ha, what’s the saying? Oh yeah, there’s a first time for everything. Now put it one!’

The chainmail was what Aeodor usually used. The shirt had little plates of metal over the chainmail which was what Aeodor wasn’t used to, it weighed him down and he liked to be quick on his feet. Grethork lifted the plate chestpiece up and helped Aeodor don it. He then strapped the two pauldrons to the prince’s shoulders. He then started helping Drobin while Aeodor examined his armor.

It was heavy, that was for sure. Aeodor felt like there were a thousand sacks of iron strapped to his back. He strapped his sword back on, he hadn’t worn his Runite sword in a while, he had taken to locking it in his chest and carrying his spare steel one. Aeodor had been training with it for a while and he could feel it shifting its weight to his liking. He still hadn’t named it but no other sword he had used is better, even Fellbiter. Aeodor examined the helmet, it was a different style to the other mercenary’s Instead of a slit for the eyes he had two horizontal triangles, they were almost as thin as the slit the other mercenaries had.

‘You may of noticed’ Grethork began in his smooth dialect. ‘The changes I’ve made to your armor. Firstly the thing you haven’t noticed: everyone’s armor is heavily enchanted with defensive wards but yours is even more so, just as much as mine even. All this is Binc’s work by the way, he’s a fantastic wizard but too old for battle sadly. I know how important you two are and I know that keeping you as safe as I can is beneficial to everyone, apart from the enemy of course! Now aesthetically I’ve made the trim fancier and the pauldrons are pointed instead of rounded. Finally there are two dragon heads on the lower half of the armor if you haven’t noticed. This will make you stand out more as a leader to all the other mercenaries. We don’t usually make leaders stand out, my captains have exactly the same armor as everyone else, I’m usually the only exception but you two are different so I’ll make that exception of you too.’

‘Thank you Grethork, you’ve already done so much. I can’t ask for more.’ Aeodor said.

‘There’s no need to thank me, I think you’re a good man and I know you can lead us to victory. I’ve always been told you were the best of the Arinians. And you may not ask for more but that doesn’t mean I can’t give you more’ he winked. ‘Aeodor take this bow, you’ll need it. Drobin has his. Now I think it’s time to get going.’ He started walking away, stopped and turned around to address them again. ‘Remember to take the platemail off if the situation requires it, the chainmail is enchanted the most so you won’t lose all your protection.’ They nodded and walked off to address his men.

Everyone lined up like soldiers. Their armor in perfect condition and their weapons freshly polished. Aeodor fingered his new bow as he swung the quiver of arrows onto his back. It was black and red like his new armor and bow. The weapons were in uniform as well.

‘Okay you rats, I want to see good fighting out there. No running into walls, no stabbing friends in back and KILL EVERYTHING! Thanks for listening and have a nice day!’ He winked at them all, everyone laughed then started moving. The room went from calm to chaos as everyone started talking and gathering their things.

‘It’s almost like a military operation’ Aeodor exclaimed.

‘I love it how you said “almost”’ Drobin laughed.

‘Reporting for duty sir!’ A mercenary wandered up to him.

‘Excellent, get in line soldier.’ Aeodor barked in his commander voice.

‘Erm…sorry sir, I meant the other…sir.’ The mercenary said, embarrassed.

‘Oh okay,’ Aeodor laughed.

‘Oh…’ Drobin began. ‘W-What’s your name soldier.’

The soldier had his helmet off and he looked startled. ‘Erm Radorik sir…’

‘Well Radorik…get in line.’ He said the last words a bit hesitantly, the man learned quickly though and Aeodor was sure he’d make a fine commander in no time.

More soldiers came each going either into Aeodor’s party or Drobin’s. They were both leading different groups. Aeodor had half of the ground force and Drobin had an archery platoon to himself, him and his platoon’s job was to bombard the enemy with arrows from the rooftops. There were other platoons but Drobin wasn’t an experienced commander and it was too hard for any commander to coordinate platoons that were on the other side of a street. Shouting doesn’t help in stealthy situations. Aeodor’s group steadily grew bigger than Drobin’s but he had a lot more people to wait for so Drobin had his fifteen soldiers and he was ready to go quickly. After a quick embrace the young man left with his group to get in position.

Aeodor was somehow not worried, he’d known his friend for a month or so now and he was the best friend he’d ever had, the man was too important to die.

Aeodor’s company was a good two hundred troops, Grethork controlled three hundred and would be advancing from the north of the town where it was most defended. Aeodor would come from the south.

The group travelled through one of the many tunnels under the town, it would supposedly place them outside the town.

After an hour of walking through murky tunnels they reached the surface. A few minutes later the rest of the group caught up, Aeodor did a headcount. All was going to plan.

‘Where will we see the signal sir?’ one of Aeodor’s captains asked, his name was Anorsk. He had short curly brown hair and one brown eye and one grey. A good man, Aeodor had surmised.

‘The west side of the town, once that signal goes we’ll still have to wait a few minutes for the guards to head over there. That part is vital.’ Aeodor told him.

Suddenly a beam of purple light flew up into the air and exploded filling the midnight sky with dazzling light. The explosion shook the ground. People started screaming, the time was close.

After what Aeodor guessed the right amount of time he mustered his army and advanced. The screams weren’t genuine, the Blue Shadows had positioned civilians to scream when the signal went off to dramatize the effect. Most of the civilians knew what was going on and many were fighting. It was a risky move involving the citizens due to moles, the Arinians would know what was going on soon anyway so it doesn’t matter that someone’s probably tipped them off, besides the extra manpower helped and their plan didn’t rely on surprise.

The streets was packed with people pretending to go about their business, Arinian soldiers were trying to control the crowd but as soon as Aeodor’s company was seen the civilians turned on the guards and quickly subdued them.

‘Everyone settle down!’ Aeodor shouted over the commotion and noise the townsfolk were making. ‘My company is taking the south guard post as you’ve all been told, when we do that a curfew will be set and guards will be everywhere. Anyone of you can back out at anytime, this is entirely voluntary and the only thing you’re getting here is your town back.’

‘That’s all we want!’ someone shouted causing everyone to cheer.

Aeodor grinned ‘Then you’ll get it!’ he shouted. ‘Now once we have the guard post we’ll raid it and arm everyone. I’d say there are two hundred of you and with sufficient weapons you’ll be a force to be reckoned with. Remember to stay low and that you’re not invincible. And enjoy yourselves!’ The crowd cheered as Aeodor walked back to his army.

‘The guards won’t deliberately kill them either, that’s an advantage I guess.’ Aeodor thought. He didn’t like using civilians but the time required it.

The civilians cleared out as Aeodor’s army passed, they stayed close behind though eagerly awaiting their weapons. The army advanced further down the street towards one of the looming guard tower.

Various patrols passed them but all were subdued and the stripped of their weapons. The weapons were given to the townsfolk and they joined the ranks of Aeodor’s army but many were still unarmed.

Soon they reached the large, imposing tower and sorted out two small groups to take it. Aeodor was to lead one and Anorsk the other. ‘Remember.’ Aeodor said to another captain who was temporarily in charge of the army. ‘Take out every patrol and strip them of their armor. Our presence still isn’t known…yet.’

‘Yes sir!’ The soldier murmured eagerly.

Aeodor drew his sword, took off the platemail and crept into the tower with his group of ten soldiers. Anorsk will going through the back door with his similarly sized group.

The room they entered was a simple entrance hall. Two guards sat on a table rolling dice. Aeodor signaled his group to stay put and crept forward. His armor clinked lightly but the guards didn’t notice. As soon as he was within reach he stabbed the guard in the back of the head with his knife, pulled the dead man’s knife from his belt and effortlessly tossed it into the other guards face.

‘Let’s go.’ He whispered to his group.

The centre of the room had the table where two living guards used to sit. On either side of the table were two stone staircases leading to the upper levels. Half of Aeodor’s group went up the left one and Aeodor and the other half of the group went up the right staircase. The next floor was a little busier than the last. A large table was planted in the middle of a rather bare room. The only light source was a large iron chandelier hanging over the table. Seven guards lounged on it drinking ale and eating their supper. Arinians appear polite when they’re sober but a drunk Arinian is a rough one. Like a sober Barand.

Aeodor’s group was at full strength again so they snuck around the table at the dark points of the room. The atmosphere was quiet as none of the guards seemed to be in a talking mood, even the drunk ones. Six mercenaries stood behind each lounging guard, Aeodor crept behind the last one; a rough looking man with a short beard and moustache. He had a tankard of Barand ale stuck to his hand. Aeodor gave the signal then shoved his already wet blade in the man’s throat. His men did the same and the group of drunken soldiers became a group of dead ones.

The next floor contained beds filled with snoozing off-duty soldiers. The small group made quick work of them then moved on.

The next four floors were exactly the same, the captain’s quarters were empty but there were some useful documents Aeodor took.

They walked back downstairs and went onto the street again. ‘Sir I think we better get moving a patrol escaped, our presence is known’ a soldier greeted him.

‘Good where’s Anorsk’s group?’ Aeodor asked.

‘Right here sir, we happened to stumble across an armory as soon as we entered the building. The townsfolk are mostly armored up and as deadly as townsfolk can be.’ Anorsk told him.

‘Let’s get moving then, the tower’s empty.’ Aeodor said grimly.

They walked through empty streets save the occasional patrol that they’d defeat instantly. Every patrol they met seemed to be going in the same direction they were going: to the market square.

The market square was packed with Arinian guards. Every patrol had been called back, their presence was known. It’s hard to hide several hundred heavily armed people so the fighting started instantly. The mercenaries crashed into the startled soldiers, archers appeared on the rooftops surrounding the market square and began raining their deadly ammunition on the enemy soldiers’ moonlit helms. At the north of the market square another army led by Grethork crashed into the rear of the Arinian guard. The only entrances and exits to the market square were blocked by angry rebels. The Arinians started to panic.

Aeodor darted soldier to soldier like a demon. He opened a gruff man’s shiny stomach emptying his last meal onto the floor. He parried a strike from behind and skillfully spun around and stabbed the man in the throat. Another three soldiers advanced. Aeodor sprung forward and jumped onto the shoulders of one, stabbed the man behind the collarbone then kicked the man into his two comrades. The other two assailants fell to the floor with their dead comrade. Aeodor made quick work of the last two; if you fall over in battle you’re dead.

Aeodor continued to dart from soldier to soldier, attacking and defending himself, making quick work of everyone. The few strikes that should connect with his armor bounced off and flung the attacker off balance. Aeodor would quickly stab the man in his exposed throat. Aeodor used a variety of ways to kill his opponents each one as skillful as the last. Once when attacked by two Arinians he disarmed one skillfully with his sword, spun around and beheaded both of them with both the blades he wielded.

The guards had no fire support as every roof was occupied by mercenaries and every one of those mercenaries was an archer. After an hour the soldiers threw down their swords and raised their arms in surrender. It wasn’t over though, the town hall still stood and it was covered in barricades. Something wasn’t right.

Suddenly the roof of the town hall was covered in archers and every window in the town hall had an archer leaning out of it. Arrows flew down from the sky clearing ranks of mercenaries. Everything went from to chaos and hell.

‘We have to stop them!’ Grethork shouted to Aeodor, suddenly finding him.

‘Then let’s stop them!’ Aeodor replied just as loudly.

‘I’ll take one group through the right side, you take one through the left. Take Drobin with you, I saw him around here somewhere.’

‘Alright, I’ll see you in there!’

‘Aye, you will!’

‘That man sure is a Barand.’ Aeodor thought.

After a few minutes he found Drobin and rounded up a few confused men. They ran to the left side of the building as planned, keeping low so their faces weren’t filled with arrows. Luckily no one was hit making the job of taking the town hall all the more easier.

The left side of the town hall wasn’t barricaded and there wasn’t a single guard there; a fatal mistake on behalf of the Captain of the guard. Aeodor and his twenty-strong group entered the building.

Inside the building used posh but due to the continued presence of soldiers it wasn’t so anymore. The expensive Saracsin carpets were covered in mud from constant patrolling soldiers who’d forgotten to wipe their feet. Tapestries had been ripped off the wall and left on the floor. In their place were weapon racks and spare ammunition.

They travelled down the corridor, one of the townsfolk with them used to work in the town hall so he knew his way around the building rather well. He led them across the ground floor to a big open room. A large group of soldiers lounged around it, on one side of the room were two huge wooden doors covered in wooden boards. This was the entrance hall.

The soldiers outnumbered them but Aeodor’s men had the element of surprise and of course himself. Aeodor kicked a man off his chair and lunged forwards to finish him off. His men followed suit and attacked.

A soldier drew his sword and ran at Aeodor, the prince waited calmly until the very last second, he ducked under the soldier’s clumsy attempt to decapitate him and drove his blade into the man’s gut. Two more had reached him by then, Aeodor parried two quick strikes then kicked one soldier in the side of the knee causing the man to stumble Aeodor went for the kill but found another blade met his. The other soldier had parried his attack with great skill. Aeodor kicked the kneeling soldier in the face knocking him over. He then turned to face his skilled assailant. He feinted a strike to the neck but quickly changed the course of his moving blade to hit the Arinian’s hip. Aeodor was never good at feinting but in his opinion it was the best feint he’d ever done, his enemy saw it though and quickly parried. Aeodor was knocked off balance and the man stabbed towards his throat. The blade was pushed back and the soldier was knocked off his feet. Aeodor, realizing he was in danger stabbed downwards without hesitation. He was shaken though, and slightly disappointed. He’d never lost to anyone apart from his father in swordplay. If he can’t defeat a lowly swordsman then how will he ever defeat his father?

The room was filled with dead, all the soldiers had been killed and Aeodor had lost only three men. The group, after cleaning up their dead began work on the door. The barricade didn’t prove a problem, using the dead soldier’s swords Aeodor and his men removed every plank and swung the door open. The scene outside was brutal; an uncountable amount of mercenaries lay dead on the floor with arrows stuck in every spot of their bodies. Everyone sprinted to the doors as soon as they were to get out of the arrow barrage, soon though everyone was inside the building. Aeodor sat down to rest; there were more than enough mercenaries here to take the town hall.

Drobin collapsed next to his friend. ‘Rough day huh.’

Aeodor smiled slightly ‘We won though, we won…’

‘What’s next though?’ Drobin asked.

Aeodor shrugged ‘We’ll see where the wind takes us, like we always do.’

‘I hope it takes us somewhere nice, somewhere where I can hunt. I’ve been getting the urge to do that lately for some reason.’

‘It’s because you don’t like killing people Drobin, you’re too good a person.’ Deep down Aeodor could tell Drobin just wanted everything to be the way it used to be.

Aeodor grabbed Drobin by the hand ‘We’ll do good Drobin, you’ll be my first hunter as soon as I become king.’

Drobin grinned ‘I’ve never hunted for money before…sounds like fun.’

‘Who says I’m giving you money?’ Aeodor said his eyes wide in mock surprise.

They laughed together ‘Let’s get some mead, this dump must have something we can get drunk with.’ Drobin said.

Aeodor’s face lit up. ‘Or better than mead; Arinian ale.’

‘Oh no…’ Drobin moaned.

[Techpriest]

Argh my spleen, this is quite funny.