Tales

Hello to all from the realm of Utopia.
As i am fairly new to this game, and to this type of roleplaying, i wanted to try to make your time more pleasant by writing a few stories.
Since english is not my native language, i am fairly sure there are many mistakes in my writing, wich i hope won't bother you that much.
I will post some of the stories about the happenings of my Kingdom and how i (with my rich imagination) perceived them.
If you have similar stories, please share them here so that we could write the history of this age.

Journal entry: 16th of April of the 1'st year of our Lord.
As black clouds gather upon the mystic skyes, the generals call down on the army and the soldiers give out battle cries.

The armies, standing face to face, take a look up in the sky as the dark clouds form into dragons and fireballs sent out from the mages of every provinces.
The Kings of both kindoms give the signal to atack. And so it begins... the battle that will be remembered in the lore of the ages as one of the bloodiest.
Swords versus swords, axes clashing down on shields, thieves cutting throats of peasants and stealing magic runes and gold...
Alas, after a month of battle both armies seem to be at a peak of strenght...
What will this battle provide for the Kingdoms? What fate shall the brave lords and ladies of the provinces suffer?
Only the mists of time will tell, as for now, the only thing that you can hear is the battle drums and the war horses hooves over the battlefield filled with corpses of brave man and women.

Journal Entry: 17'th of April in the 1'st year of our Lord.

In the past 12 days i have witnessed a war that the history books have never seen before. My spies have reported invasions after invasions, with brave soldiers dying for land, honnor and their Kings. I have seen with my very own eyes the horrors of the Dragons being unleashed upon farms throughout the kingdom, of brave men (peasants and lords alike) fighting to regain a point of balance in taking these abominations down from the skies.
As flashes light the night sky i saw thieves striking into the very heart of the enemy, concealed by the anonimity provided by the night with the help of the mages.
Our enemies are strong, but we will not falter in the eyes of death, as only death will not keep us from achieving our goals. That has been proven by the most disturbing part of our armies, the silent ones...
The ones that you don't know how to kill, the ones that don't eat, don't even breathe... the armies of the Undeads.
In my battles i have fought along side with these vial creatures and my life has been saved more than once by their bravery...or better said: lack of fear.
Leading these fearless soldiers are the brave leaders of the Occult, under the guide of our leader, the Monarch of our Kingdom. Although i sense not everyone agrees with the occults in our kingdom, i must confess that i would rather fight beside them than against them.
More will be said after this battle...if i still have my body or my wits....

Journal Entry: 21'st of April in the 1'st year of our Lord.

During the past days i have spent almoust all of my time concerning myself with internal affairs. It seems the thieves guilds are growing as expected. The towers for the wizards are pointing towards the skies like accusing fingers. During this wretched war time, a lot has happened in the kingdom. A lot of brave souls have died only to be respawned as soulless creatures that obey every command given by their generals.
As a Fairy lord i do not concern myself with the tales of the undead, i only try to keep up with the war by infiltrating and sabotaging the enemy's resources, leaving them to deal with famine, thirst and a slow and agonizing death by deseases sent over by my wizards.
I received news of attacks and invasions from all over the front and i have stayed every night for as long as possible discussing with the leaders of the other provinces in our kingdom the best courses of action to be taken. Every night all of us, from dusk to dawn are crambled in the war room , looking over maps, forgetting all about families at home, all for the survival and the well-being of our land.
The cold breeze of the mornings and the sounds of hooves bring us good news, the ones that i always enjoy. It seems that the very heart of the enemy kingdom has been ravaged by our armies... the land of their monarch has been plundered and peasants have ran from him. This is a good news indeed, but no time to celebrate, as we have a war to conduct...
Rumours of a Golden Dragon summoned from an other realm to devastate our lands have reached our ears, and only a fool would not hear them. These are grim times indeed, but as we ride to deliver our orders to our generals we only think about our kingdom, the land of our ancestors, the land we have sworn to protect and also, like the great vikings in the north, we can only hope to live brave and die in battle just to reach the halls of our gods. Even the weather has something mystic about it.. the rain that keeps pouring over the heated horses transforms itself into mist and the riders into demons, mystical creatures spawn from the abiss. I guess the armor doesn't help either. As i glance to my left i see the Knight Steward Syiu looking beyond the horizon line, i see Baron Artist with his longsword decorated with runes ramming on his back... foul appearances indeed. On my right i see Lord Chrisss with his white beard that seems to demand respect all by itself, Lord Bazmodia who has risen from the grave consumed by hate and anger against all of our enemies and last but not least of our little get-together, a strange looking ghost type who has indeed helped me with great advices and more, the Lord Unknown from the marshes of the Unknown Lands...
I wonder sometimes what am i doing with such fearless leaders, me from a peole who is good at hiding in the shadows of the night, me with no huge sword or axe, only an emerald knife to keep me warm in the cold nights. Then i remember i have an army of assassins, thieves that would steal the keys of the kindom from the very neck of their king without a glimpse of hesitation...
I guess every man can have a part in a war bitween a world that isn't enough for all to prosper and thrive.

Journal entry: 2'nd of May, year 1 of our Lord King.

It has been 4 days since my last entry, but 4 days of turmoil and war, as it befits a warlord.
A lot of things happened in this passing time. It seems that with each passing hour i grow wiser and wiser, but not without having to learn all things the hard way. For once receiveing good knews about rich spoils of war in the very heart of the enemy kingdom, on the land of their mighty King, it seems the acts have not gone unnoticed. With the help of his kingdom and his loyal subjects, the king has raised an army to retrieve what was once his and to win the heart of his followers back. After fighting with 3 sepparate but strong armies, he managed to reveal a good strategy of invasion and ambush and won 3 victories against Lord Artist, who in rage has plundered with his returning armies all in his path.
I can even imagine the rage upon the lord's face after hearing the news.
But as it is in every war, you lose a battle, you win an other one. And, to my surprise, a noble lady Lesotho, with a great strategy and a mind set on certain wins, and also with the heart of her people managed, even by not uttering a single battlecry, to win a great and glorious battle against the army of the Torontos Glory Hole Province. From what the victorious soldiers coming back from that battle told me, as i love to hear war stories and learn a great deal from them, the battle had started in the morning. Flags were raised. The battlefield was still, not even the wind dared disturb the knee high grass. The generals from xSG-0 looked upon their leader, the noble lady Lesotho and from their eyes you could drink the eagerness to prove themselves but also the questions: What is there to do? How do we atack? Two hours passed and not one soul dared disturb the armies that stood one in front of the other. In the distance you could hear the clashes of axes on another front, but we shall talk about those in a minute. Alas, the two human armies started to enter battle formations. You could go blind from the gold that ornate the shields and the sun reflecting in the helmets of the soldiers. With a glance, lady Lesotho starts the battle, the generals start walking in front of their soldiers and all of a sudden the battleground trembles under the pressure of the marching armies.
The first clash comes from the right flank, sword on sword. You can hear the first screams, the first soldiers wounded. Inch by inch the right flank start to advance. After hours of fight, when victory seemed within our grasp, the elves from the Province of Climax Razor Chain Whip started to pour their arrows on the battlefield. And even though the sky was black of arrows, it seems the elve's keen eyes allowed them to hit only within our ranks.
As it befits a leader, even though it is a woman, lady Lesotho mounted her white stallion and with her personal guard , all ellite soldiers trained by the best masters in the kingdom to live and die for their leader, started to charge the woods. Although, within the cover of the trees the elves felt secure, they seem to have made the terrible mistake of thinking themselves invulnerable to our wit. And, with a bit of luck, as fog was starting to raise from the warm blood spilled and the cold bodies that lay on the ground, one more deformed than the other, the elves had no option but to leave the protection of the high trees and charge with swords in hand. What they didn't consider was that , in her wisdom, lady Lesotho counted on just that. After surrounding the elves she managed to decimate their army in a quick pass. The rest was for her generals to finish. It was a great victory indeed.
As lady Lesotho was returning to her tent, the sounds of battle in the nearby hills started to draw her attention. Deciding to go and investigate, considering she was on enemy territory, she went alone, her years of training with the grand masters of the thieves allowing her to slip unnoticed even by her own guard. Perhaps the fairy nomad clans that passed through her lands have taught her how to create the illusion of being in one place while actually being somewhere else. That doesn't even matter. As she arrived on a high peak overseeing the hills, she was marvled by the sight. It seemed strong men from the royal army have gone mad and attacked children. But she knew that wasn't the case. She had heard storyes about half men, or halflings as they were called, small in size but fast and strong. The banner of the SG-1 Province alongside with the banners of the entire kingdom seemed to inspire fear, as they were rushing right to the center of the new battlefield. And even with the help of the remaining army of Torontos Glory Hole, wich hoped to at least win with the help of their small-in-size brothers a victory against, what they thought was a regular army. But the king SG-1 doesn't have regular armies. All his soldiers are selected from throughout the kingdom for the specific task of war. They don't know anything else. Even in death they clinge to their swords. After a glimpse of light felt upon a bright round golden shield, lady Lesotho managed to see, in the middle of the battle, the king himself. She was marveled by the share brute force and will of the king, who was an inspiration to his soldiers.
And that was how two battles were won for our great kingdom, by two fearless leaders.
And as you know, good news travel fast. Even though in war, the nearby provinces of Impetus, Ghost Nuke Terros, Illiterates, felix and bubbet bobbet pledged allegiance to our cause, making our kingdom stronger. It pleases my heart to see that the faery clans have started to understand the cause of our fight and joined in with all their heart. It also pleases me to see that the number of thieves starts to grow, as everyone knows that the war is not won only on battlefields.
But i believe you want to learn of my brave stories? Well, as a thief lord, all i can say is that my passing trough enemy territories has not remained unnoticed. Even though some of the thieves got caught, and some died, the dead bodies that lay throughout the Crotch Crescent Crossbow province prove that where is will, and subterfuge, no army can stop you.
Perhaps in the future i will share my knoledge on the arts of striking within the cover of the night, but for now, i think i shall let a myst of uncertitude float above these arts.
I have to conclude my entry as the lords demand my presence in the war room. With a heavy heart i, once again, have to leave my beautifull wife sleeping in bed, with the candlelight caressing her cheeks as i go and hear news of death and plunder.

Journal entry: 5'th of May on the 1'st year of our Lord.
The morning sun shines upon my rugged face. As i sit on the side of the bed, i take a look at my wife and think about the times of peace. But the rogue in me doesn't let me day dream. I have important things to do. Rumors have reached my ears about a seer in our kingdom that could raise dragons. Well, even though i tend not to believe these things, considering as i saw with my own eyes the dragon that camed from the land of dreams, the emerald dragon that tore apart with only a roar an entire forest... i think it is worth investigating.
As i set myself to the task in front of me, i start to think of the possibilities. A dragon fighting on our side, that would be a sight to remember. And to think that in all of my years i have thought that the best way to get to a target is to use the shadows and cloaks of invisibility left from generation to generation from our very own godfathers.
Yesterday, when i heard the rumors i have spoken with the wizards from the high towers. As they are skilled with the conjuring of almost anything from this world, i thought it would be possible to raise a dragon within our own province, just to present it as a gift to our king. But with all their power, and all their knowledge they didn't managed to open a summoning portal. And even though they can raise the dead from the ground, or conjure gold coins, or even inspire fear,anger, lust or patriotism into the hearts of men, this task seemed too much for their power. Perhaps the use of runes is the reason. It doesn't matter now. As they saw i was disappointed, the white wizards from the higher ranks promised me to rain storms, vermin and balls of fire on my enemies, trying to teach me ,as they had for years and years, the secrets of spells and rune conjuring. The markings i have on my body, inked in black over my skin, are the proofs of what i have already learned. And the scars are the proofs of my ... other skills as well.
The wolf that stays at my side suddenly growls, and in a heart beat my instincts make a blade appear in my hand and a knife in the other. But it is just an emissary informing me 3 more battles have been won.
It is a good day indeed.

Journal entry: 14'th of may, year 1 of our Lord.

My search of the seer has gone foul. It seems the dream i chased was just a dream. Or perhaps other provinces had better luck than me. Alas, the war will not win itself. So, after receiving orders from our steward, i have decided to leave the dreaming to children and to pursue more important matters.
After checking the progress made on my province buildings i was walking towards my castle, still impressed by the Thracic dragon wolf that stands proud on the banner, looking like he is ready to eat every living soul that dares to oppose our will. All of a sudden my white wolf , my closest companion who has saved my life countless times before, gritted his teeths and from the dim shadows of the keep's wall i saw a reflection.
My reaction was swift and instinctual, and before i even knew it, my dagger flew towards the hidden figure spilling blood upon the wall as it enters the thief's throat.
My guards were nowhere to be found and after a second glimpse i saw black shadows jumping from one rooftop to another. I mounted my horse and stormed towards the castle, arrows flying around me. The wolf (Deceneu by his name) has vanished from my side and only the terrified screams that end in a blood gurgle let me know that he is doing what he has always did, protect my life.
I was halfway up the steep road when all of a sudden i was surrounded by thieves. But my heart jumped as these were my own thieves, and all of a sudden the race has reverse itself. Now i was in pursuit of the enemy thieves and after what seemed like ten minutes but actually were almoust three hours, the battle ended. I managed to keep one thief alive in order to question him about his allegiance, but before i could do anything he draw a knife and slit his own throat. Perhaps he will be a better thief in an other life.
After this grim event, i thought nothing would cheer me up, but the next day i found an army at my domain's border.
It seems the good lord Tartarus wanted to let me know i was still in war, even though my lands were somewhat protected by the larger provinces in the kingdom. The battle, though bloody and furious, ended quickly. The knight Inferi perhaps sent a too small of an army, or perhaps it was the fact that even the peasants joined the battle, enraged by the audacity of attacking our homes. The crows were already settling in the forest nearby, looking like death's minions.
The ellites that were in the first wave of atack died to the last man, but even in death you could see their acsusing eyes scorching the enemy that dared to raise a hand against our lands. These are the brave soldiers that i am proud to call Dacians.
After hearing of these news, our steward Syiu rewarded my province with a new regiment of soldiers, and even though untrained, every soul willing to help is welcome.
The meeting at our monarch castle has always pleased me. Seeing the war room with all the decorations made has always been a sight to remember. But as i am not here for my enjoyment, i listen to what the other lords (and ladies) have to say.
The overall is that the war continues and, as it seems, will be continuing for quite some time.
This is the grim ending of this entry.

Journal entry: 15'th of May, year 1 of our Lord.

Coming back from the meeting with our king, from wich we received our orders i was happy to see one of my friends, lord Akza from the land of Ghost Nuke Terros. It's strange how a faery could be friend with an orc, but the story of our first meeting is too long of a tale to be written here.
Seeing my friend filled my heart with happyness, but something has gone amist, as the spark from his eyes was all but dimmed out. Even his skin paled from the bright green that he had wich allowed him to blend in with the forest trees to a mud looking brown. Perhaps it was age, as it is known that orcs, living a life of war and plunder, never get that old without entering the realm of warlocks. Or perhaps the scars left on him during all the battles, both within his land and with other kingdoms. I don't know, but all that matters now is that from the mighty orc he once was, he now looks frail on troubled.
When asked about his battles, all i saw was sadness. Asking him about the source of his decay, he started telling me about his clan.
It was a grim winter, and all you could see was the white around you. Even a trained orc, who has lived all his life in the wilderness could go blind from all of the light that would surround you.
In all that whiteness the smoke from the enemy rogue camp was like a stain on the sky, rising like a serpent only to dissapear through the white clouds.
When getting closer to investigate, he found out that they were the arriegarde of an army set to destroy his home village. Hearing this he quickly lashed out and in a blink of an eye the rogues were dead and he was riding full speed along the frozen river toward his home.
When his village started to appear within the woods, all he could do was watch petrified as the heads of his family, along with all of his clan were grinning at him from the top of the spikes, with the smoldering fire burning in the back, and the banners that he held dear torn and tossed aside.
He was too late. He could feel rage overcome him, he could feel his blood boiling inside his veins. REVENGE was all he was looking for. The tracks were still fresh, the enemy had perhaps two ours lead. He started on their trail and after riding like a madman he managed to catch up with the group that had slayed his entire village.
They were about one thousand, and he knew, even in rage, that if he charged then he would get killed. Even though he didn't cared about his life anymore, he did cared about avenging his family. So he waited for the night to come. In the cover of the darkness, moving surprisingly stealthy for a big and strong orc, he slit the throats of nearly 800 soldiers within the first three hours. But as he was about to kill the general that was leading this army of dead the alarm was raised. With a scream he charged and split the general's body in half. He looked like a demon, his fangs glowing in the dark, his whole body covered in blood, his longsword dripping blood all over the floor of the general's tent.
He was ready to die, knowing that he had fulfilled his duty for the dead people back at his home village. But just as the soldiers were about to impale him on a spear, there was a crack of lightning that struck the center of the remaining soldiers. Thinking they are fighting against a demon, or a god, they all ran away screaming.
But after all the fighting was done, the life he once had ended. He was now drained of his will. So he told the rest of the people from his province that he was no longer fitted to rule them. Nobody asked why. Nobody needed to. They all packed up and left to the other clans that were over the border. Perhaps that is the advantage of being an orc. You don't own many things beside your honnor.
I was baffled that the glorious land of Ghost Nuke Terros would have such a sad ending, but as Akza was my friend, i couldn't say anything and i respected his choice.
He is now continuing his pilgrimage to find his purpose in life. I am thinking i woud've done the same thing, as suicide is, in my opinion , choosing the fast way out of a problem.
Not even the news of the glorious battle won by lord Chrisss coudn't change my bad mood. It seems this war is far from over, but others have been lost long ago.

Journal entry: 20'th May of year 1 of our Lord.

Our king has been summoned to negociations with the enemy king. It may well be a trap, but the opportunity doesn't need to be missed.
The leaders of the provinces are wary about this meeting, but as our just King has stated, there is no war that doesn't end. So perhaps we shall end it in glory.
There are only a few of us lords attending, strictly the ones that need to ensure the safety of our kingdom. I am glad to be named among them. Perhaps i thrive for action as the last days have been a bit dull, or perhaps i want to study the culture and wisdom of the enemy kingdom and not doing it from a distance or from the shadows, trying to hear every whisper and decypher every hidden sense of a phrase.
As we depart, i can't help myself wonder what troubles will we find on our long journey ahead.

I continue my story as i have just returned from the negociations. It seems the rogues we have encountered on our way were astray soldiers trying to compensate for the lack of food and for the honnor lost during this harsh war. As the king ensured us that it wasn't his doing, and as we lack the proofs needed to state otherwise, i am just glad our thieves were faster and better prepared than them.
As i entered the castle of Cockburn Black Powder i am amazed of the fact that a clan of Orcs, who are used to live in the wilderness and hunt, has managed to raise a castle of this greatness. The walls, even though not cisseled like you would expect from a human castle, were brimmed in black, with high towers from wich you could see the entire area. There were a few peasants in the outskirts that gave us fiery looks, but those weren't the type of orcs that woud've made me clench my hand on the emerald knife.
An Orc general was waiting for us on the steps of the castle, to lead us into the hall where the king usually met his equals. At a first glimpse, the general wasn't impresive. He was a bit taller than a regular human, but the fangs that arouse from under his upper lip made his face a little more menacing. All i know about Orcs i have learned from my friend Akza.
The inner hall was modestly decorated, a few banners showing the provinces, some swords and shields hanged on the walls, and ofcourse the torches that lit the room. When we entered all the rumble died and all you could hear was the footsteps of our king and us. When i say us i mean me, lord Chrisss and lord Syiu, as Baron Artist seemed to glide 2 inches above the marbled floor, only his black robe touching the ground as if a breeze was constantly blowing inside the hall, even though the light of the torches never flickered.
At the first sight of King Krimi i could see why he was chosen by his people to rule. He was standing on a throne made entirelly out of bones (perhaps the bones of his challengers, as it is a custom within Orc people to keep trophies of the ones they kill personally. Leaning on the right side of his throne was a double edged axe, bigger than a man in full strenght. He didn't moved a muscle as we entered, and the only thing that told you he was not a statue was the chestplate that he wore , that was black as the wall stones, that moved when he was breathing.
He was a big figure but still young, as expected. He maybe had 23 summers since birth, but not more. Amazing what you could achieve if you have the strength to pursue your fate. In front of him were the leaders of the provinces that we battled most.Among them was the leader of Atlanta Greek fire ,lord Xardov, a halfling that could pass for a dwarf at any time, since he was built like one, holding an iron hammer in his right hand (for protection, i am sure). On his right was Lord Kremlin of Skyfall Canon Ball, a high elf with blond curly hair that was slender and tall, with his golden bow kept on his back and a robe that hid his hands. Next to him was lord Toni Kokoc, the lord of FireEye , a human palladin with the eye of his order sitting in a fire right on his chestplate and his hammer of justice resting on his thigh. And next to him as i saw was a hooded figure that raised chills on my spine. It was a bone figure with red eyes in his black eye sockets. He spoke but not through his mouth, as you would expect but through his mind. He was the undead lord of Arcanite Reaver Mountain, lord Oysta.
As i was looking at them i wondered what they might think of us, with our King a human warrior, 2 warriors of the same race as our king, a faery dressed in black with a hood on his head and an emerald dagger on his belt and an apparition like mist forming after a moonless night.
After long and boring (at least for me) negociations, an understanding has been reached. There will be a ceasefire starting today, and if it is kept untill the 5'th of June it will mean the end of the war. I know some of our lords wished this war didn't had to end so soon, but considering they are all already dead and resurected as avengfull spirits, i think they might have to consider allowing some of the living to live.
After long hours spent in the same place i am releived to feel the cold night breeze on my face. As we return the company remains sillent untill all of a sudden the king takes his bow and with a shot well aimed kills a deer that was stupid enough to venture near the road.
After complimenting the king on a good and skilled shot, we decided to make cap overnight in the woods nearby the border, as hunger settled in.
In hope of a better future i conclude this entry.

Journal entry: 14'th of June, year 1 of our Lord.

After 3 months of war in wich both sides have suffered losses beyond my imagination, it seems that the enemy has indeed surrendered. In the time that passed since our negociations there were some battles, as not everyone from the kingdom of WAR-STFO considered the peace settled a good thing.
I could see that even at the negociations table. But when the hordes of the undead battle, it is a sight that makes your blood turn to ice. Just as it was in the 21'st and 22'nd of May, when two undead armies gathered on the fields of battle. It was as if even the earth couldn't bare to see the living zombies and skeletons in dull armors with flaming red swords in their hands and so it formed a mist so dense that even with my high senses i could only guess what happened on the battlefield.
Black horses that instead of glorious hair had brimstone black fog that seemed to vanish, and red eyes that inspired fear into the hearts of the living. But the enemy wasn't living. There were also ghouls with ragged cloth that were floating above the ground like a nightmare rolling into the mist. Also ghosts that were so transparent that you could see only the knives made of some kind of black metal that gave them the possibility to be wielded by translucid spirits.
On the enemy line i could see skeleton archers with their longbows and their cracked skulls, perhaps warriors from another era that coudn't find rest in their graves and decided to raise up and raze and plunder villages. I could also see behind them the cavalry formed out of what appeared to be only armours sustained by wind or pure will. I could see soldiers , if you can call freshly awakened dead men and women that, dressed in all of the enemy kindom's armours.
Even the critters from around the area and the animals in the forest have fled, and all you could hear was the ocasionally clink from a sword or the wind blowing across the land. The forest nearby was so scared that the leaves woudn't dare move, like they didn't want to draw any attention on themselves.
And then, out of the sky there was a rummble and two wyverns appeared, one on each side, each carrying what looked like the generals of the gathered armies bellow.
And the battle started. It wasn't what you woud've expected, there was no battlecry, there was no rushing, there was only a slow walk towards each other. Bows were streched, and i don't know wich sound was higher, the streching sound of the wood or the cracking sounds of the bones that wielded them.
And then all hell broke loose, arrows started flying, the sky turned black as night and the shrieks of air been cutted increased untill you could see them landing and turning the battleground into what seemed like a porcupine. I always wondered if you could kill a ghost with an arrow, and as it turns out, if the arrow is blessed or if it has some kind of magic on it, it sticks to the ghost and burns it from the inside out.
Land is won and land is lost, and untill the late hours of the second day, you coudn't say who would win.
To my shame i have to admit that if i was in that battle , i woudn't have known what to do. So i am planning to learn the dark arts of conjuring and summoning to at least know how to protect myself.
But returning to the fight, the armies of Lord Unknown from the Unknown Province started to advance inch by inch untill the enemy army was standing backfirst against the steep valley of death. It is said that whoever goes into that valley, be he alive or dead, turns into ash as the dragon below it blows out fire and sure as damnation doesn't like to be disturbed.
With one last push the lines of the Shizit army were sent into the abiss of the valley and just as silent as it began, the battle had ended.
Returning home all i could think about was how this world could suffer from the hands of men and other races.
Alas, the war is now over, and i am glad to say that we have won. The spoils of war were great, even for someone that had the only job of protecting and defending his realm, king and kingdom, while stealthly bribe the enemies, kill their generals and burn down their defensive towers and castles.
But now, that there is no war to be waged, our king's attention went back into rebuilding our kingdom, and precise orders were issued.
Towers were rebuilt from ashes, and the new land that we won turned into big cities with people thriving in them. You could hardly belive that a month ago there were battles and people lived with the fear of not getting up in the morning, or worse, find out that their famillies will not.
Mage towers appeared in my land, the districts were rearanged so to better suit our new needs, and what we have learned from the defence of our enemy, we adapted and put into our own.
Tha provinces that didn't help out in times of war have been razed to the ground, their Lords imprisoned and their estates confiscated. On the very spot where their castles used to stand proud there are now training grounds for the people to develop skills so badly needed in times of war.
Peasants have not been forgotten, and taxes have been lowered, so they could feel protected and could thrive and prosper.
A feast that lasted 3 days had begun, the animals sacrificed coming from all around the enemy land. You could see the pride in our king's eyes and the joy was spreading throughout the land.
And yet, here i sit, writing these stories with my white wolf at my side, just so the generations to come know what their grandfathers did so they can prosper without having to worry for their future.
My mind wanders and my eyes grow heavy from the lack of sleep, so i conclude my entry here.
I will perhaps in the future write about the kingdom, as history has to be noted throughout the ages.

Journal entry: 20'th of June, the year 1 of our Lord.


This will be a story a bit different than what i have written before. This will be a story of how i becamed the leader of the Dacian realm, how i became the leader of a land that was once looking like a marsh up in the mountains.
It was 10 years ago that my father had passed the reigns of this land to me. Since i wasn't the oldest of his sons, i often wondered what had changed his mind about following the rules and traditions of our people.
In the "faery" kingdom as we are called by commoners and as we are starting to call ourselves, even though our ancestors called themselves from Qin's, traditions are well kept, but , as my father before me, i belive that if a realm wants to surpass his current state, some traditions are ment to be changed with every era.
I was only 16 when i was called to the great hall, the hall in the center of the palace placed by the highest peak of the Kar mountains, surrounded by nothing but cold stone, and white peaks. An army would think twice before charging this place. But back then, i didn't bother myself with these things.
When entering the hall, all the clans were gathered there. You could see all kind of Qin's , from the lean types to the bulky ones, from maidens with longbows stretched to their backs to the old but wise mages that wore their robes with such pride that you would think they are their lovers. I could see my brother beside my father's throne, his face lacking all kind of emotion. He stood still like a statue made of marble, with his hand on the hilt of his sword. Looking at him i realise how much he resembled my father. Behind him , in the far dark corner of the hall wich, even in daylight seemed to be enfolded in night shadows, there were two man who were all dressed in black , with hoods over their faces that you would think of them as monks. At their feet there was a beast that appeared to be sleeping and only his ears that were constantly moving around seemed to contradict that impression.
Even with the hall full, it seems that all eyes were upon me, as i had only eyes for the beast and the hooded men behind my father's throne.
As i walked towards the throne, i felt embarassed thinking i am late to a gathering and that all this people is waiting just for me to arrive. My father, as i was about to go to sit next to his throne, made a sign for me to stop. He rose from his throne and everyone in the hall kneeled. His voice boomed across the room making the light of the torches flicker as if scared. He said : "Dacians, i give you your new lord, lord Burebista, chief of all Qin's in the Dacia province".
All of the men in the hall cheered " Hail lord Burebista, may he rule a long and prosper life!".
I was baffled. All the blood in my cheeks was running down to my feet as if i was about to flee after finding out this is a bad jest copped by my father to mock me for the fact that i was late. But it wasn't so. This was a real crowning and it seems everyone knew except me.
After that, there was a procession of men and women bringing gifts. After all were done with the formalities and after the hall was empty of all except my father and me, the two men from the shadows stepped up. As i took a closer look and managed to get a glimpse of their faces, i found out that they were actually a man and a woman, and as it looked like, the woman was the daughter of the black robed man. And the beast was a white wolf, the kinds you could hear about in stories.
The man was in his late 50's, with a look on his face that inspired trust. The woman (a girl nearly my age) was so beautifull that if you ever saw her , you would be mesmerized and lost in love's claws.
My father nodded towards them and the man started to speak. I was amazed to hear that the wolf and his daughter were a gift for me, if i would give them the honnor of having them. He also opened his dark leather tunic and an emerald dagger appeared. As i saw it, my eyes quickly turned to my father, but he seemed to have so much faith in the hooded man that he didn't even looked at the dagger.
I accepted the gifts, all but the girl. I said that if she wants to be my bride, i will want her to say so, and that i will give her time to think on that for at least one night. She later became my wife and i am happy to have it so.
They were both leaders of the thieves in our land, thieves that worked under my father's command and that were his closest council in dire times. And as they were close to him, so are the new leaders of the thieve's dens close to me.
And this is the story of how i became ruler of this land. The rest, well i guess you could read about that in the history parchments held by our library.

The stories will continue with the presentations of our provinces, their leaders and their cultures (at least, how i tend to see them).

Journal Entry: 15'th of March, year 2 of our Lord.
It has been months since my last entry. Much has been done in the time passed. The kingdom has spread almost twice it's side since. All the lands under the protection of our monarch have thrived. It seems indeed that the war ending has been the best thing that could've happen.
I will write here the tale of one of our explorations, the one that i think was the most impressive among the explorations conducted.
It was in the first days of December of the first year of our Lord. The air was cold and the wind blowing was stirring up the fresh snow that had dropped upon the land. Our expedition's scouts found a mountain that, in their opinion, was haunted. As i do not belive in such tales, but , with my very own eyes, have seen the dead walking and fighting among living, i decided the land was worth investigating, as any peaks offer a good defence against any tresspasser with ill intentions.
As i didn't thought it was a good ideea to enter with a whole army and , in case something foul happened, leave the land unprotected, i chose only 200 of my bravest soldiers, along with 100 thieves. You might think that this might be an army itself, but compared to the size of the army, that was a tenth of it's strenght.
If i've only known that this woudn't be a normal explorations, perhaps i woud've chosen a lighter company, but as time passes wisdom is aquired. I have the white in my beard speak on that behalf.
As we approached the mountain, it seemed as if the peaks were rising from a sea of mist. As i always knew, the mist hides the unknown and makes even the bravest of the hearts tremble in fear of the unknown.
We decided to make camp at the foothils of the mountain. There was an overwhelming silence and only the sad notes of an even sadder song were heard among our company.
Even when we went to war, we were happier as we knew what to expect and what we were fighting against. The mist formed a wall-like border that, despite the wind blowing, seemed to stay in place and that was unmovable. We have sent scouts into the lands that were to be explored, and from the 10 that have went, only 2 have returned and perhaps it woud've been better if none returned at all. They had their eyes white and were mumbling like madmen of creatures spawned from hell fifty foot tall with horns and spikes on their back, they were speaking of wizards that could put words in your mind and make you do things.
The rest of the scouts, they said, decided to join the mist army, and that only after seeing the queen of the mist. As i knew that the mist might cause brave men to imagine things, i have decided to go and, if there really is a queen and a castle, along with a mist army, i would try to barter with her and see if she would like to pay allegiance to my province.
The road ahead was entering the mist at a steep climbing and, as we approached it, seemed to allow us passage by lifting itself only enough for us to enter this unholly land.
After entering, as expected, the mist formed itself behind us and so the road seemed to vanish from our sight. We were entering the unknown fully prepared to battle but hoping there would be no need to, as we came in peace.
The mountain, although not very large at a first glimpse, was testing our skills to the max, and not once we had to save our fallen soldiers from the ice caves that seemed to form right under our feet. We were exploring for about two days when we noticed that the road changed texture. It went from the muddy type to white stone pollished by what we thought to be wind and snow, as it was raging from side to side.
We decided to follow the road and after only one hour we spotted a monk with a lantern kept on his staff, guarding a bridge that dissapeared halfway into the mist. Approaching this man we noticed he was no ordinary monk, the black depths of his cloaked face inspiring fear and respect, even without a word being said. I greeted him and asked for guidance to the queen's of this land's castle. He lifted his eyes and a part of his face showed, only for an instant. What i saw made the hair out of my back stand up, as the monk's face had no mouth or nose, only big red eyes on a motionless figure.
As i was wondering how to communicate with such a creature, a high pitched sound squeeled in the back of my head and i coud hear a voice speaking.
"Good day mylord, if you and your company wish to pass, you will need to enter with a good heart, or all will be lost and you will not reach the other side of this bridge. May Azhalla guide you in your quest and light the path of your search", the voice in my head said.
I thanked the monk and passed on his wisdom. And perhaps i shoud've listen more carefully to what he said, but as i said before, wisdom comes with time.
We started to cross the bridge but from an army of 300, only 260 actually passed, the others were lost. The question was how can you loose yourself on a bridge, when all you can do is walk from an end towards the other end. As we passed the bridge the strangeness started to become even greater, as the mist suddently cleared and before us was a white castle standing in the snow, with it's fortified walls half burried into snow. There was no living soul in the towers, or at least none that we could see.
The gates opened and the central tower was rising among the deserted houses like a thrusting sword aimed at the gloomy sky. We headed towards the great halls that were starting to come into view, all silent as if speaking woud've made this castle dissapear. The only sounds were the ones made by our horses feet on the white pavement, and even those were muffled from the snow.
We arrived at the main entrance and saw two statues of beasts with wings that only in our dreams would look alike human beings. As we dismounted and approached on foot, the statues started to come to life, changing shape into faceless soldiers. Me and my generals were the only ones allowed into the castle , and even we had to loose our weapons and surrender them to these two winged soldiers before entering. How i knew that? It was the same kind of squeel that placed words in my head at the bridge's entrance.
Stepping inside, the only light was the one coming from the windows, windows that depicted warlords, a war bitween heaven and earth, the truce being signed bitween angels and men that wore horned helms and white garments with longbows.
Looking ahead we saw the throne with a statue of a woman sitting on it, her crown made of pure gold with stones that flickered under the touch of the light.
I motioned my generals to wait there and approached the statue alone. When i reached within ten feet of the throne i bowed and, without saying a word looked at the statue and thought about our reason for coming to this land.
After what seemed like hours but were merely minutes i heard a voice in my head, like the songs of angels being played by the most skilled songplayers in our kingdom.
"I have looked into your heart, brave leader, and decided you are worth to follow. I have decided your quest is pure and your heart is true to these lands. I am the ruler of this mountain and i pledge my allegiance to you. Know that your enemies will be forever lost in this mountain and only the weakest of them will be allowed to live. As for you and your company, you are welcome here and will not be troubled again by the whiteness gloom of this land."
All of a sudden, like a veil being pulled off of our eyes we saw the castle as it really was. Soldiers appeared all around us, pages with banners held high, winged men with firey swords, and even high elves that seemed to be glad of the queen's approval.
Now you could see among the towers that there were archers and in the houses that surrounded the pallace children playing, women going about their duties peacefully, knowing the mist and the spell casted upon this castle kept them safe.
Also, the people that appeared were all having happy faces and, like in a dream, were talking bitween them by using thought and not voices.
Deciding this is a good place to hide an army in case of battle, i made note of the surrounding area and went on my way back to the remaining company. Perhaps, after leaving this place, a traveller would think of this story as a faery tale, but, as we are called faery by the people that surround us, this will not mean a bad thing. And perhaps, if the traveller's heart is pure, and if found deigned by the monk guarding the bridge towards Azhalla's castle, they could rejoice as we had.
But all travellers shoud be aware, if their heart hides secrets against this land, they will forever wander in the mist, lost in both their minds and this land.
Even now, after three months have passed, and after our people built upon the land, i wonder how i was judged and how come i have been found worthily enough, even if my chosen proffesion was the one of a thief. Some miracles it seems are beyond our understanding.

Journal Entry: 20'th of March, year 2 of our Lord

It seems i have more time on my hands, since all i do now is listen to people's needs and deeds, and also sit on very long and boring gatherings with the throne council and squatter about the need of new towers or new marketplaces...
I sit in my room, my faithful wolf at my feet, with the warmth of the smoldering fire keeping me safe against the northern winds, and I think i shall write the story of the expedition me and my 10 best thieves made to the distant land of Veryk.
This happened after the meeting with queen Azhalla and the things learned from that journey made me bring only a small company with me, and of course my white wolf, who never misses my side. We started towards the sea's shoreline, which, from our castle's windows, seemed a small blue dot on the horizon. Considering the fact that all this time we have headed north to explore, this would be a nice change of scenery, and as it was January, the month of the Snow Wolf , who is the patron of our bloodline, and also discovering the fact that all the passes due north were closed under heavy snow, it was the only choice we had.
As we embarked on this trip, i could only think about the wonders i would get to see, worried as i was to leave the province without a ruler. But, as anyone knows, in a thief's house, just as in a warrior's house or, if i start to think of it, in anyone's home, the ruler in times of war is the man, and in time of peace is his wife.
So we began the journey east, towards the sea, my wolf scouting the area for me, a white shadow in a whiter land. After what seemed a week of blindness into the wild forests that were a desolating site to look upon, with white trees hunched by the weight of the snow, we managed to clear the forest and get into the hills of this new territory. I was hoping to find people around, but when i exited the forest and found myself in front of a city uncharted by my merchants (who are the best cartographers that lived), i couldn’t stop wondering what other cities have they missed on their way towards new trading routes. This would be a great question to be asked in our council meetings, on a later course.
At the gates, 2 guards with long pikes, dressed in leopard furs and with helmets that were round and horned, skin as black as coal freshly dragged out of some dwarven mines, were scouting the people entering and exiting trough the main road. When they saw my wolf, their eyes grew wider in amazement and perhaps fear, as such a site wasn't something commonly met. As for us, when departing we decided to go for a subtle approach, just to feel the pulse of the new land, so we were dressed in white furs, with white dyed leather tunics and wore only daggers and bows, as any hunter would.
We managed to ensnare the two guards with our hunting stories so they let us in, not without taking a second look at our "dog" as we named it.
As we took a look around we found ourselves in the market that would make even the best market in the Monarch's castle be envious. You could find there almost every creature that mother earth would let walk upon her. From the green greedy goblins dressed in golden garments that were followed by strange machines to the necromancers from other lands that were followed by demonic appearances that could change shape and become beautiful women only to suck the life out of you. This again raised the question of why isn’t this city found on any merchant map and why hasn’t any merchant from my province come to exchange their products on this wide array of merchandise that was being sold here.
Seeing all the creatures (as many of them were other races and not human-like) one could think there would have to be a deafening racket, but the polite ways they were discussing and bartered seemed to tell a different story.
We left the marketplace to find what we were looking for, the leader of this haven of merchants, and as we wandered the streets, our white furs making us look like ghosts in this land, we found ourselves in the proximity of the central hall, the place where we expected to find the leader (the han as we found out).
The stories about the han were, to say at least, inspiring, as none would speak against his will and against the power he had upon this city and the surrounding land.
But people seemed scared of even thinking about him, and when they spoke about his habits or bloodline or even this city they were looking around to see if any guards could hear them. That made me question the truth in their stories.
As night approached, we thought it appropriate to wait until the next day to request an audience with the han, so we seek shelter in the inn that was above the tavern called "Blind thief", a jest of fate perhaps, as the irony of the situation didn’t escaped me.
It was near midnight when the bells started raving and we thought the city was under attack. As we dressed ourselves and readied, weapons in hands, we found out that the han's been killed along with the two guards that were staying in his quarter to guard his sleep.
Considering that this was a city walked by all kind of creatures and seeing how easy it was for us to enter through their main gate, we wanted to investigate this murder and try to help the han's son, as it was the best way to make him grateful to us.
We went on the streets until we reached the guards surrounding the han's quarters. When we asked what happened we were sent away with angry words, words that came out of the helpless feeling they were having.
As we glanced pass them we saw that it was kind of hard to slip by unnoticed, as there were guards stationed everywhere. I thought it was because of the fact that there has been a murder, but it seemed that was the usual way, since the last attempt on the han’s life. From what we gathered from the whispers of the peasants and merchants around us, they were all but sad that the han has died.
It seems that with his death so did the fear of speaking ill of his name. The han’s son on the other hand was all but welcomed to succeed his father, due to the love he had for his people, who in return loved and respected him and his authority.
We started to look for signs of anything fleeing the area, footprints and such, and as we searched we found some tracks in the snow that were covered by the fresh snow that was reigning on the town. Following these tracks we found out that they led on the northern wall, the one that had no gate on it, and disappeared as if magic happened. Without a word i released the wolf to go around the wall as we climbed it looking for fresh tracks upon it, tracks that we did indeed find but that didn't look like any usual tracks. They in fact looked like marks made by a talon of a falcon trying to get grip on ice. As we searched the other side of the wall, we could find fresh tracks one hundred feet away from it, as if the thing that made the claw-looking tracks had learned how to fly or glide.
The tracks were leading us into the forests, but only a fool would go there without any precautions taken. We circled around and found that the tracks vanished after the first bulk of trees. This indeed was a puzzle that started to get my attention. I started looking for more clues, as i sent my company back into the city to question all who they could find on the creature that might fit a description like that.
So in the woods only me and my white wolf remained, his nose on the ground the same time as my eyes were on the treetops. I spotted a broken branch right above the place where the tracks disappeared but it was too high for me to take a closer look at.
I started to search the trees nearby and after some time i saw another branch that didn't had any snow on it, as if it was stepped on. Knowing the direction taken by our assassin, i followed closely, my elven bow in hand, a gift received from the high elves of Shram'A Na'ar.
All of a sudden i heard some noise in the distance and dropped into snow as a shadow glided through the treetops. The shadow seemed to be floating and only touched the branches lightly, as if it didn't want to disturb the peace and quietness of the forest.
With the bow in hand stretched at it’s full, i carefully aimed at the creature's feet and just as it was touching a branch i loosened the arrow that went flying and scraped the creature's leg. A shriek was heard, like a vulture that has been wounded and the creature came tumbling down from the tree. In a heartbeat the creature spun itself to land on its feet but it was too slow for my wolf, as in the moment it touched the ground found itself with his snout at the creature's neck.
It was a girl, or at least a female, that looked like the mating of a harpy and a succubus. Remembering that this was an assassin, the next arrow was already in its place and the bow's string was stretched to its full, my flexing arm burning from both eagerness to loosen the arrow and from the effort, as an elven bow isn’t one made for any creature.
To my amazement the female creature started to speak and it was pleading for its life. The wolf backed out of the way and so the creature stood up. It had wings at least twice her arm's length but beside that there was nothing unusual about it. That is until you got to her feet. They had sharp talons that were good for climbing trees but also cutting down the flesh of the trusty men that made the mistake of coming close enough.
I questioned her about the motives and all i could understand from all the tales i have listened was that the han was an evil land lord that murdered any and all who opposed him. The han's son on the other hand, was a good and fair ruler and that he will rule better than his father for all the land to thrive.
Deciding to present this assassin as a gift to the han’s son, I instructed her to keep her mouth shut, her talons on the ground and the wings around her body. When she heard that she will be presented to the han for a fair judgment, she panicked in thinking she had missed the target, but as I explained that it was the han’s son that was now ruling, she welcomed the trial.
So I brought the assassin to the han's court, seeking a private audience and then i saw the just rule of him. Instead of killing the creature that has murdered his father, he, in all his wisdom, seek peace with her clan and granted her life in exile.
As a skilled assassin and with talents needed by my realm, and with the friendship of the current han now ensured, i have taken the assassin under my wing (the irony is yet again at its full) and started training her to get better into what she does, and see that she will put her talent to a good cause.
So here i find myself with a strange new ally from an even stranger bloodline but with a good reputation and also with a tale to tell.
Perhaps the future may hold new adventures for me, which i could share, or perhaps the biggest adventure of all is life itself. Only time will share this wisdom.

Journal Entry: 16'th of May on the 2'nd year of our Lord.
It has been a while since my last tale, and as the season changed so did the face of my province and my lands.
It is a good time when you have the gold coins to pay for such a change, and the fact that I had almost ten thousand thieves at my disposal seems to pay a big part in the acquisition of the funds.
So this will be a story of stealth and darkness, of whispers and deceit, of thieves and assassins and of shadows and smoke.
As I was seating in my room, with the faithful companion at my side, scouts have begun to come in the cover of the darkness. Even though it was almost the middle of the night, the tunnels below my citadel allowed the ones initiated in the art of stealth to come and go unnoticed. So, when everybody else was asleep, and the guards saw me sitting in my quarter alone, there were at least 4 others with me at all time. This way the rumors of a kind that dwelled with thieves wouldn’t spread and also if I wanted, I could leave the castle unnoticed at any time.
It seem the kingdom from where my ancestors came to this land has thrived and prospered beyond their imagination, protected as they war on the island of the three mountains. The faery circle, as they are known to the commoners was integral from elder wizards that didn’t know anything else beside eating, sleeping and reading old books of spell hoping to understand how to change the fabric of time so they could live forever.
I guess when you search for immortality life passes by unnoticed and you forget how to live. But they aren’t to be taken lightly as the power within them could raze cities to the ground and still remain enough to rebuild it and reshape it. Some say that they have learned how to read minds, and that the thoughts that linger within the darkest corners of your mind are there for them to read like an open book on a table. That was my greatest fear, as I had already decided to pay them a visit, only without their knowledge.
I chose to take with me 3000 thieves, a third of my entire thieves den. For this to happen, all had to be planned to the second. The first thousand left dressed as merchants with full cortege of helpers, squires and cooks. They were to make a settlement outside the main city, and establish a market there. Considering this was an important citadel, there were markets all over the surrounding area, so this would not be something uncommon.
The second part of my thieves were to wait on the shores in the boats disguised as merchant ships. This was also not something uncommon. In the forest between the harbor and the marketplace I have ordered 500 thieves to hide, in groups of 20, and keep an eye on the traffic. Also they had the job of setting traps that, in case of a quick retreat were to slow the enemy and make them cautious of their next step.
After a week has passed and I have received the news that all was going according to plan, me and 500 of my thieves started the journey on the high seas toward the Zoim Zural kingdom, where the faery circle resided. The journey wasn’t an easy one, and it seems the gods of the sea needed their share of blood for letting us pass. Or perhaps the captain of one of the ships miscalculated de depth of the sharp rocks and so 100 of my thieves drowned and died even before reaching the shores. It seemed bad luck was plaguing our task, but it was too late to back down now.
After reaching the shores I felt a strange urge to go by myself, but as time has taught me, two eyes see less than four. So I choose to wait until dark and with the help of my scouts found my way to the citadel.
This wasn’t an ordinary citadel. You can see from afar that magic was lingering in this place as some sleeping serpent beneath the rocks in winter. The walls were made out of what seemed like scryar glass, or mirrors as the commoners know them. But I wasn’t fooled. They were polished metal plates welded on the walls so that light could reflect on them so that with only a torch you could light half of the moat in front of it, 200 feet away. If you were to believe the old stories, this once was a place where the gods met and feasted, and by the power still remaining I tend to give credit to the children tales of the battle that took place here.
As the gods dined and feasted, the men that were serving them opened the gates and an army of high ones, special trained warriors that, if given the opportunity could slay a deity, charged and killed nearly half of the drunken gods before being turned to dust by the remaining ones. Or at least that’s how it is remembered in the tales of the great battle, as it happened generations before.
Guarding the walls were only a few guards, and by the time I had reached the walls they were already either drunk, sleeping or dead. So I got in without a problem and me and my company were jumping from one rooftop to the other, night protecting our movement and silence being our first concern.
We reached the bank district, which contained all the banks in the citadel as well as the large spherical main vault, that was guarded by a dozen bored and sleepy guards. But the guards were the least of our problems. What we had to do was discover the combination of strokes that opened the sphere, as there was no door to enter it. A fight with the guards could attract other guards, so we had to work in full silence. As 20 of my thieves flexed their bows, with the corner of my eye I saw that the rest of them were already stealing from the other banks.
The full prize was in the sphere though. So I gave the signal and all the guards received an arrow to the neck and were dead before they reached the ground falling. We could now work on the cipher with the time we had. The faery circle seem to be overconfident of their power so it was an easy task as to remember the opening spell from the book of shadows. There was no failsafe, no protective spell, nothing. Bad for them but very good for me. We didn’t steal any of the gold coins, as they were too hard to carry and also were noisy to drag from one rooftop to another. So instead we stole all the runes and the gems we could find. And they were lots of. We had about 30 thousand runes and at least twice the amount of gems, and by the time we finished packing them we could see the dim light of the sun raising from the waters in his struggle to chase away the night and the terrors spawned by it.
We moved as fast as we could, the weight of the prey slowing us down. But by the time the alarm was raised we were already in the marketplace we set up outside the city. I was fully aware that magic was going to be summoned to find and punish the foul thieves, but I was safely sitting under the protection of my own wizards. When guards started to look trough the marketplace all they could find were honest merchants.
As we waited for everything to settle down, we decided to go for a sightseeing and so we entered the citadel during the day, through the main gate and searched for the mage towers to see if we could learn something about this land and kingdom.
We studied the architecture of the houses, with their large painted windows that portrayed distant unknown gods. It seemed as if even though we came from the same cultural background, the differences were great. Here you could find dragons with riders as the gods of the air, serpents three times the size of a battleship with changing colors as their sea god and a giant that stood on two mountains as if it was sitting on a throne as their earth god. The fire god was nowhere to be found and so I wondered about the balance of their life. If there is no balance, in life, as in nature, all will be consumed. But then I saw what looked like the king and patron of this land, with his crown made of fire and his robes made of light. I was baffled by the audacity of it. How could a mortal claim to be a god and not one in all his land think it as something foul?
We entered an inn in the “Swamps of night” district, the district that housed the worst cutthroats of the citadel and of course the thieves of it too. As we were listening to the gossip we found out that this land has not seen war, famine or anything bad since the Monarch was crowned. And they were talking as though that had happened at least two hundred years ago. So it seems, even though they hadn’t found out the secret of immortality, at least they were on the right track and that they were living as many years as the elves do. As I said before, I think that with time comes knowledge, but with too much time comes insanity also.
After spending a couple more nights studying the defenses and the possible infiltration points of this city and writing them down, and after it looked like the monarch and the elders of the faery circle had accepted the fact that they couldn’t find any evidence of the one responsible for the theft, I was about to leave this land and return home.
On the day of Dev’na, the patron of the seas under my culture we set sail towards our land. This time we took our time as we weren’t pressed by any hurry. By the time we reached our main land the news already reached me that a group of rogue elves were ravaging the forest near the seashore. As we had a cargo that we couldn’t afford to lose, we let the ships rest at a safe distance and started to investigate. As it is known, elves have a high affinity for blending in the wild and of talking with the animals. But as this is their strong point it is also their weakest one. Because they might know how to blend, but animals leave tracks that can be followed. So when we saw the tracks of a wolf side by side with the ones of a panther, we decided that they will lead us in the right direction at least.
We arrived at a clearing and, bows in hand, we hid among the trees, waiting. It looked like this place was the meeting point of the rogue elves. Now all we had to do was wait in silence for them to show up. And we didn’t had to wait long, as a small rustling sound came from behind the rocks above us. The elves were confident no one could have followed them and so they started to prepare a fire to get supper going. We already were surrounding them and by the time they realized they are being watched it was too late.
The leader managed to fire an arrow in my direction and only luck made that instead of hitting my face it got the shield of my second in command, the female rescued from the han, which was raising it so that she could see where to step as she didn’t had boots or any kind of leggings on.
The battle ended quick and as we returned the stolen propriety to the castle’s peasants I was thinking that in one single adventure I was on the both sides of the law, first a thief and then a posse.
As history books put it, the adventure was a bit different. I was fighting a dragon it seems and after defeating it I found a treasure in its lair. Perhaps it would be better if priests and scribes wouldn’t have to write history and that that would be the task set upon more trustworthy people. But until now, the secret of words has not been there for all to grasp, so I guess I’ll have to accept what little truth I can get from the ones I have.