Phoenicia Two

Athens, Phoenicia

The storm had been building for days. The dark billowing clouds that threatened to douse the white stone of Athens had followed the metallic automated messenger-bird, bringing secret news from Crete to the Emperor. Now they broke, sending citizens running to their homes, cloaks covering their heads. Five minutes after the first drops, the city appeared completely deserted. But thought the empty streets two figures walked at a leisurely pace, apparently unhindered by the now pouring rain. Their names were Eleazar, and Androcles.

Eleazar was the son of Caedmon Severin, the Foremost Citizen of Athens, the representative of the Athenian populace to the Emperor. The only person of more importance in the city was the Emperor Himself.

Eleazar’s companion was the son of a baker. And he could make a fine pastry.

They were going to the library of Athens. only the nobles were allowed inside, so it was usually empty. Only a few archivist and scholars could be found there on a good day, let alone a rainy one. But inside the mausoleum was a good place not to be seen.

The tall bookcases held thousands of scrolls, book and other ancient documents. Literature from a time long ago. Hardly anyone used them anymore, but Baltzar had and affinity for antiquities. He enjoyed the reminder of the past, Caedmon had told his son. So the books stayed.

Outside the building two stone griffins flanked the huge wooden doors, guarding the entrance from some unknown enemy. The two youths paused before the threshold, protected from the rain. “Why are we here, even?” Eleazar asked. Androcles lowered the hood of his cloak, revealing lanky dark hair and a pointed, pockmarked face. Eleazar hadn’t worn a cloak or hood, and stood dripping.

“You should dry off before we go in,” Androcles said. “It will be colder in there, I think.” His face twitched, like he was holding back a smile.

“It figures, when it finally rains I forget to dress accordingly.” Eleazar snatched Androcles’ cloak from him, and toweled off his hair and tunic. “Why are you even here?” he asked.

“I wanted to look something up,” he said. “And you better smarten up. You don’t look your station!” Androcles smiled, sardonically.

“What did you want to look up?” Eleazar said again.

“Just hurry up. I want to get this done.”

The library was empty, as usual. Every sound they made echoed through the building. In the atrium, to their left was a deserted desk. Usually some preoccupied clerk or scribe was there. But now there was no one. “Strange,” Eleazar said. “There‘s always someone around here…and you shouldn’t even be here. I‘ve got a bad feeling about this already. Let‘s hurry up.”

They walked through the halls of books, Androcles searching for something, Eleazar trailing behind him.

“How did you even learn to read?” He asked.

“Father taught me. He learned from his father. Et cetera, et cetera. We’re getting closer.”

“Closer to what, again?” As they progressed further and further into the bowels of the library, Eleazar was growing uneasy.

“Something from a dream…”

“No. From a dream? You‘re kidding me, right? Or have your completely lost your mind?”

“This dream was different, Eleazar. It didn’t feel like a dream. It felt like . . . I don’t know . . . ” His voice trailed away. “It felt like a vision, or something”

Eleazar rolled his eyes. “Oh, it felt like a vision, did it? And experience are you using as a basis for comparison?”

Androcles paused. “Here it is.” He pulled a giant tome off of a shelf.. The title read “A Compendium of Architectural Wonders and a Dictionary of Architecture.”

“Architecture. You are crazy.”

“You: be quiet.” Androcles opened the book and flipped through the dusty pages until he found what he was looking for. “Here it is.”

He read from the book: “During the reign of King Minos of Crete, Daedelus constructed a maze of tunnels and passages hidden in the caverns beneath the city of Knossus. The king had commissioned it to be built so that his secret children might be housed, kept away from the rest of the world. No one was to know of his hideous progeny. After years of work, the Labyrinth was completed. To maintain it’s secret, Minos confined Daedelus to the depths of the Labyrinth. He didn’t trust his servant anymore. Icarus, Daedelus’ son, escaped incarceration and sent a message to his friend, Theseus, the son of King Aegeus of Tyre. The prince hurried to aid his friend, but it was too late. The architect had died, and his son fled all his father’s secrets to the southeast, never to be seen again. To this day the Labyrinth remains hidden. The caves under the city were empty. Minos’ beastly children: vanished.”

Androcles looked up from the book. Eleazar raised his eyebrows. “And?”

Androcles began pacing. “This is from my dream! I dreamed about this Labyrinth, this underground maze. I knew I‘d heard the story about it before . . . And I don‘t know when the book was written. It makes it sound like it was recent history. But now, the Labyrint, Minos, these monsters . . . Even Crete itself, are all sort of legendary. No one really thinks about it anymore.”

“But what does this have to do with your dream. I mean, why does it matter? It was just a dream!”

“I told you,” Androcles said. “It didn’t feel like a dream!”

“You‘re insane!” Eleazar threw his arms up in the air in defeat. “That‘s all there is to it.”

“Shut up!”

“You shut up,” Eleazar began, but Androcles shushed him.

Androcles whispered. “I heard something!”

“Yeah, it was me-”

“No, it was something else . . . This way.” Androcles crept down the aisle, and across two rows. Eleazar followed him. In a section of the library that appeared to hold books about mathematics, Androcles stopped. From the aisle next to them, hushed voices could be heard.

“And did he find it?”

“He couldn’t have said, whether he did or not. If our enemies intercepted the carrier, the discover would be useless, you know that.”

“But do you think he found it?”

“I would have to postulate . . . Yes.”

There was a gasp.

“But this means-!”

“It means nothing yet.”

“The Saturnalia is so soon. Will there be time?”

“Well, I don‘t know about any time. The Saturnalia is just a proposed date. It would make the message stronger. But any other time would do just as well, ultimately.”

“Has he informed the Emperor?”

“I have no idea. The Lord‘s relationship with the Baltzaar is . . . A mystery, to those who actually look at it.”

“The Emperor is unsympathetic, though? He must be, otherwise, why all the secrecy?”

“Secrecy is a tradition, Joachim. It has been, since the first days of our persecution. You wouldn‘t know, you have only just been initiated. Now, we are mostly forgotten. No on remembers Balor anymore. But that will change.”

“We should leave now, perhaps? I do have some other things to attend to.”

“Of course, Joachim, you may go. We shall meet here again, twelve days from now.”

Androcles and Eleazar watched as the man called Joachim hurried down the long row of shelves, toward the entrance of the library. His companion, it seemed, had elected to stay cloistered amoung his books, and the two eavesdroppers were forced to take a very round-about route, to avoid meeting the man who preceded, out of the library. And when they walked out into the rain-soaked streets, he was gone.

End Phoenicia Two

New Timekeeping.

I have decided that henceforth Trellarya time shall have no corelation to real time. But, if you care to date your stories, you may.

Valsurstagt: The fight for the throne, part 2

I opened my eyes, and blinked sleepily at the sunlight. Then I sat up, remembering last night and how I was most certainly not back in my little cellar room at the palace.
Very strange, I thought. Everything had been very strange. I began to have questions about the whole experience. The first was, how did Maornya know about me, and how in the kingdoms had she gotten hold of my kivae? The next one, was how had Tatyana known about me and Maornya?
The second was easier to answer, Tatyana was the queen, she probably had spies everywhere. My guess about Maornya was that she had used magic, but it was only a guess.
I considered Maornya, wondering why I had been at all scared. Yes, she was a sorceress, but she looked to be not much older than me, and with my kivae, I was protected. I really had no reason to fear.
I stood up, and shook out my cloak and dress. It was a rather warm day from the time of year, and I took off the cloak, feeling hot.
Looking about, I began to wonder where I was. The mountain covered the northern half of Valsurstagt, and extended into Acheron, I could be anywhere. That might prove to be a problem. If I was lost in the mountains, it would hardly be easy to stage a fight for the throne.
With the cloak over my arm, I began to walk towards the edge of the valley. I had no idea which direction I was going in, but supposed this would be as good as any.
I was lucky. When I came over the ridge, I looked down, down, into a deep gorge, and there were the peaks and spires of a city. I started down. I needed to find out where I was, first of all, and then I needed to find a place to stay until the trial of Vanderlak, when I could prove my claim to the throne.
While I walked, I thought how everything had changed so much in one short night. It was odd that I was not more confused, but everything felt natural, as though this was really my destiny. To be Queen of Valsurstagt.

***************************

I walked down the side of the gorge for the best part of the morning, and arrived in the city when the sun was overhead. As I approached, I took precautions by slipping the kivae under the collar of my dress, and pulling my hair down over my ears. I stowed the cloak behind a rock, so I shouldn’t have to carry it, and walked into the city.
It was not much different from the great city of Vanderlak where I had been born. Except, the atmosphere seemed slightly different. I couldn’t quite put my finger on why.
I came to an inn, near the center of the city, and slipped in. I was famished. I hadn’t eaten since noon of the previous day.
“What will it be then?” asked the innkeeper, when I sat down on a stool at the counter. I understood the words, it was the same language that I knew, but with a very different accent.
“Breakfast please,” I felt in my apron pocket, and pulled out a few copper yrasts (that is the currency in Valsurstagt).
“Where do you come from?” asked the innkeeper, staring. “That’s one coin that I’ve never laid eyes on before. Sorry, but I only take durks and turins.”
I was in Acheron! The only country who used the turin currency. I had traveled hundreds of miles in that second.
“Oh, thank you anyway,” I said, getting up, and making for the door.
“Hey!” he called after me. “What about that accent? Sounds Valsurn to me.”
I turned, feeling a bit uneasy. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw two men get up from a table near the door.
“We don’t like foreigners,” one slurred. He was obviously more than a little drunk.
“That is hardly my problem,” I said, feeling irritated.
Then, they began to advance on me, and I bit my tongue. That had not been a good thing to say.
Before I could think, the bigger man, took a punch at me. It hit my jaw, and knocked me back onto the floor of the inn. I gasped, and held my chin as it throbbed.
“Yeah,” said the other. “We don’t like stuck-up foreign misses who waltz into our city pretending to be miss somebody-from-somewhere.”
I stood up, and began to walk toward the door.
“Ah, no you don’t,” said the first thug, grabbing my arm. “We need to teach all them dirty Valsurns a lesson!”
“You let go of me!” I hissed, trying to yank my arm away.
Before I knew what was happening, the second thug pulled a knife from his pocket and slashed at my hand. Once, twice, a large bloody X etched on my palm. I couldn’t move, couldn’t scream, I could only stand there stupidly, looking at the dripping red marks, and feeling the most horrible pain I had ever felt in my life.
Then, my feelings came back, and I ran. He had let go of me to handle the knife. I slammed out of the door and kept running. I tried to pull out my kivae, but my unhurt hand was clutching the wounded one, trying to stop the bleeding. I heard shouts.
“She’s getting away!”
“After her! filthy foreigner!”
In terror, I put on a burst of speed and careened round a corner, right into a wall. A dead end. I ran to the wall, and began to climb the rough stones, the blood of my hand leaving smears wherever I touched. I heard running footsteps, and felt a yank on my ankle.
I lost my weak hold, and fell to the ground. I landed with my foot underneath me and heard a sickening crack. My ankle was on fire. There was the man over me, with the knife. The knife was falling toward me. I tried to scramble up, but could hardly move, I couldn’t make my foot move. My eyes watered in pain, as I felt the knife tear my flesh for the second time, all down my back. My eyes shut inadvertently, and I collapsed to the ground, seeming to lose control of my limbs.
I felt a pool of blood forming underneath my back, from the ghastly cut. They’ll finish me off now! I thought in terror, and tensed for the final blow. Now I’ll never live to be Queen.
But instead I heard a shout. “Stop!” more footfalls.
“Is she alive?” another voice.
“I’m not sure, those filthy drunkards, murdering a girl.”
“I’m all right,” I whispered, trying to open my eyes.
“Don’t try to speak,” said the first voice.
I heard the words faintly as I drifted into blissful darkness and knew nothing more for a long time.

Gould - Greftyle 2

DEWQU

The Gothic architecture surrounding Whren was horrifying in the rain. Silhouetted by the lighting behind it, it made the gargoyles adorning the churches and buildings look as if they were moving. Strange mist floated in the cold air making it hard to see anything at least five feet away. the people around the province said that the mist was emanating from the ground coming from nowhere. But they where wrong. The people of greftyle were not superstitious but when it came to this strange mist, rumors started to fly. Alien lights shimmered in the sky, casting creepy shadows of hobos and muggers hiding in the alley way,waiting for a tired person to walk by. a person with money. the same person Whren was waiting for. the man about to jump from at least 20 stories up Most of the lights were out it was 12 o'clock at night but, Whren was nocturnal and escaping town and waiting for a man named Brasst Gould. Whren was only ten years old and was waiting for Gould because he knew that Gould was the most dangerous man in Greftyle and because somebody might be looking for him now that the four men he had just murdered had been found by non other then Captain Faust Xavier, the most celebrated man in the history of Greftyle and the chief of police. although Whren had good reason to kill them, he didn't think that it would change Xaviers mind . The men Whren had murdered had killed his family two years ago.

* * * *


Prime Minister Saul Tyson was studying in his study. Reading the papers in front of him. Saul did not want to read the papers in front of him because he had had enough bad news for decades and did not need anymore. But, he read the papers anyway. The aforementioned papers stated many different paragraphs,words,and letters that can be summed up in 5 facts:

1. Tessol was overrun with werewolves.
2. every human being has been wiped out
3. werewolves have the brain of a 5 year old child with an affinity for human flesh.
4. Greftyle was going downhill and if Tessol is not cleansed, Greftyle will be overrun with even more werewolves in 1 year.
5. Watch out.
   

Tyson did not understand the last part until he noticed that it was written by someone else,most likely the man sitting on the window sill behind him. "Boo" the man said making Tyson nearly jump out of his skin. "GOULD!" yelped Tyson "WHY ARE YOU HERE!?". Tyson had enlisted Gould A few times before to do his dirty work for him (I.E. kill offenders). "Why?, because Wraith wants you dead and, I don't want me dead" Gould said calmly and grinned after the last word. "Wraith? said Tyson backing up "why would he want me dead? Doesn't he have better things to do then ask you to kill me?". "Like I'd tell you" Muttered Gould as he pulled a long serrated sword out of A sheath.
"D-don't Do anything stupid Gould!" Tyson Yelped and jumped backward in to his desk. "Stupid? Gould said slowly and smiled. "I Won't do anything stupid" Tyson turned and ran to the door , but Gould wasn't fat or ugly. Gould cleaned his sword silently and jumped out the window, landing on his feet 20 stories below.

* * * *

Whren grinned and started walking toward the man who just jumped from the 3rd story of the prime ministers study. Gould glanced at whren without thinking twice and pulled him into an empty alleyway. "What do you want boy?" growled Gould "Why do you want to me?".
"because I need a teacher!"said whren happily"and you're the best,or so I'm told"
who told him that? thought Gould. probably frost, he has children."your mind wanders doesn't it?"the last thing Whren remembered was Gould grabbing his neck and slamming him to the ground. Hard.


* * * *

Whren woke up in a large cavern. Lantern hung from the ceiling along with a few skeletons.
A large table sat in the middle of the room. It was covered in half empty mugs. A single plate sat on the side of the table that faced him. Whren got up and walked over to the table. A huge book sat there open to a page that read:

WENDIGO
Wedigous spectrarumus

SIZE:5-6 feet tall
WEIGHT:150-200 lbs
SPECIES:Spectral
STATUS:Endangered

The rest Whren could not read (he had never been good with words). He closed the book to read the cover. It Read:

A MODERN BEASTERY

A GUIDE TO THE WILDLIFE OF TRELLARYA

By Aduem Sulfurr

" 'Ello! ".Whren Jump and whipped around to see a small furry man standing on a ledge in the wall "What?" Whren stuttered. "I said 'ello." The small man said talking with a strange with a accent. "Who are you?" asked Whren. "I'm Phrout." "Phr-what?" Whren said once again. "You asked my name and I told you-It's Phrout."said the little man "Oh, I see." replied whren "where am I?". "I'm not s'posed to tell you." Phrout said. Whren sighed and turned around. He glanced back down at the book. "so you're awake!" said a voice from behind whren. He turned and saw Phrout running out the door between the legs of Gould. "sorry about the slamming. what other way would you prefer me to render you unconscious?" asked Gould smiling. " where am I?" repeated whren. "The caves. outside of deju." said Gould. "why?" asked Whren. "you have alot of questions young sir." said Gould "I have asked the men if they think we should take you in. And there's only about twenty or so of us left. The king has either killed or captured us. So we have agreed." "why has the King been killing you?" asked whren. " take a wild guess." Gould said sarcastically "we're assassins. We kill people for a living." "Oh" said whren quietly. "You have alot to learn." said Gould.

Timekeeping

In order to give the writers more time to develop thier characters and stories, There is an official change to Trellarya timekeeping. One year in Trellarya is now equal to four months real time. That means that it is currently midsummer. That's all for now.

Abduction- Archeron

Somewhere south of Zur, in the central mountains of Archeron. 15th of Latespring.


------


It had been over four months since the council had been assassinated. And the assassins had not yet been found. It was odd. Usually, the assassins were found out and caught within days, thanks to the work of the Bounty Hunter guild. But this time nothing had been found. It was being murmured in taverns and guild houses around Archeron that the Bounty Hunters were behind the attack. But Solana Gytran, Master of the Husbandry Guild, knew that it hadn't been the Bounty Hunters. She also knew that it was not any other humans, nor slyg, nor any other threats known to men. She had been working on who, or more specifically what, had killed the council members for the last three and a half months. So far she only had a vague idea of what it was. But she was soon going to find out much more.

As she rode through the crisp mountain air on her Ieorian bird she thought about her upcoming mission. 'Find and question the four armed bard. Find out where he came from. Shouldn't be too hard.' she thought to herself. Suddenly, she heard a rumbling sound from behind and to her left. She glanced quickly over her shoulder. "What in Trellarya is that?" she whispered to herself. Then she knew no more.

------

In the high mountain pastureland, about 7 miles south of Zur. 6th of Midsummer.

------

"Tell me where she is!!" Dulaman shouted at the pathetic heap of a man in front of him.

"I know nothing! Truly, sir." Whined the pathetic shepherd. He was at the moment very flustered, between the wall of his shack and a very angry guildsman.

"If he knows anything, which I doubt he does, you'll never get it out of him like that." Said a voice from behind. Dulaman stopped and turned around. There was a man in strange black robes a few paces off.

"Fine then, if you think you're so great, why don't you get him to tell me. I'm looking for a woman, about 1.5 metrons tall, with long blond hair. She rides an Ieorian bird."

"Very well." replied the other. He strode up to the cowering shepherd. Dulaman noticed that as the man walked his robes made no sound, though they were loose, especially on the torso.

"Now," began the man, "You may have a miserable existence now, but I guarantee you that if you do not tell us what you know, I will give you pain like you have never experienced before." The shepherd didn't say anything. Then the man in black produced a strange implement from somewhere within his robes. "Do you know what this is?" he said as he held it up to the light. "It's called a Demon's Whistle. Do you know why? Because when used properly on the correct places of the body people make sounds like that of a demon's whistle. Now, tell me what you know of this girl, and who payed you to keep quiet about it." The shepherd was almost sick with panic.

"Okay, I'll tell you! I don't know anything about the girl, but I found her bird back in Latespring! It was dead in the pass of Skilshry, beyond the village of the same name! It's about three hours down the trail! A man dressed in a great black travelling cloak payed me 60 Turins to not say anything! He didn't give me his name or anything else. I never even saw his face, let me go, please, let me go now. Don't hurt me." The man in black robes looked pleased with his work.

"Very well," he said. "I shall spare your life. Be gone!" He stepped back and the shepherd ran around his shack and off into the mountains. "That," said the man, "Is how to persuade something." He then turned to Dulaman. "The name's Yiri Jasdn." Yiri held out his hand, and Dulaman stared at it quizzically. "Don't you shake hands?" asked Yiri.

"How do I know I can trust you?" replied Dulaman.

"Well, we're both here for the same reason-"

"Which is?"

"Solana Gytran."

"How do you know about master Gytran!?" Dulaman instantly demanded.

"I could ask you the same question." Yiri replied.

"I'll be asking the questions, thanks." shot back Dulaman.

"And why is that?" Yiri coolly responded.

"Because, I have the drop on you." Dulaman said as he drew his sword.

"Oh, really?" Suddenly, Dulaman was in shadow. He looked up and saw a huge, floating, metallic disc, rapidly descending on him.

"What in the name of-" Dulaman whispered. Suddenly Yiri sent a crushing blow across his face, and he knew no more.

Kovàl, chapter two

Andrew wiped beads of perspiration from his forehead as he bent over his task. He was putting the finishing touches to an arrow in the fletcher’s workshop. Hours of effort and much practice had gone into this, his first shaft, fashioned from a choice Birch sapling and long, straight gray goose feathers. He picked up the finished product, and held it up admiringly. “What do you think, Master Orin?” he called. “Isn’t it wonderful?”

A rasping voice which sounded like a pit full of snakes responded, “Wouhld youuu prehfehr thihs?”

The arrow morphed into a large purple spine in his hand. Andrew dropped it in terror and tried to scream, but no sound came out of his mouth. Something grabbed him from behind and wrenched him around. He was looking at the familiar face of Master Orin, but something was wrong. Suddenly, the man started sprouting purple and hissing. Andrew was paralyzed. He felt a burning, stabbing pain in his neck.

The Hivemind is master. The Hivemind is master. The Hivemind is master.



Andrew woke in a cold sweat. He was breathing hard, and the sheets of his bed were tangled around him. “It was a dream,” he panted to himself. “Just a dream. It was only a dream.” A faint hope began to grow within him. “Maybe this was all just a nightmare.” He felt his neck: it was still slightly painful to the touch, and he could feel the scar where the Slyg spines had penetrated his flesh. So part of it was real, after all. Andrew sighed dejectedly as everything began to come back into place.

After being dropped off by his father, Andrew had started wandering around the Highlands. As a young man going through the fasaerid, everyone had been so kind to him. He had gotten cocky, and decided to go exploring. Ignoring whispered warnings of an unknown menace, Andrew decided to cross the Trederis river. A number of years ago, this river had become the eastern border of Kovàl, and no one seemed to know why the king had given up the thin strip of land between the river and the desert. Though his father the baron had warned him not to look too closely into this matter, Andrew was very curious. He laughed at the rumors about “Slygs”, supposedly 10-foot-tall monsters that made mincemeat of anyone who wandered into their territory. Andrew decided to ford the river and find out what was going on. He found out all right: much more than he had bargained for. Months later, his brief captivity still haunted his dreams.

Andrew got up and began pacing. He was in Àmstaad, the seat of the highland barony of FinLaughington, in the upper bedroom of the Master Fletcher Orin’s house. He had taken a temporary job running errands, helping the master in the workshop, and doing odd jobs. In return, Orin was teaching him the art of arrow-making, as well as giving him room & board, and a small hourly wage.

Andrew heard a knock at the door. He quickly threw on the dressing-gown which had been hanging on a chair by the bed. “Come in!” he called. The door opened, and the master’s daughter, Karèl, entered the room. She had just turned sixteen years old, and was about a head shorter than Andrew. She was holding a steaming cup in her hands, and looked at Andrew with concern.
“I heard you shouting. Another nightmare?”

Andrew nodded silently.

“I couldn’t sleep, so when I heard you, I came up to investigate. Are you sure you’re alright?”

“That’s very kind of you, but I’m fine. Really.”

The girl smiled. “Here,” she said, “I brought you a cup of warm mead. Maybe it will help you get to sleep.” Andrew smiled back, taking the steaming honey-wine gratefully. Karèl yawned. “I’d better be getting back to bed. Good night. Pleasant dreams!”

She closed the door behind her. “How sweet of her,” Andrew thought, then shuddered as an image of Karèl infested by the Slyg flashed through his mind. Poor girl. She had no idea what was out there. She had no idea what he had been through, what he was still going through. Andrew sipped away at the mead, his head a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. But as the warm drink slowly began to work its way through his system, Andrew began to nod. He got back into bed, and at last fell into a deep and peaceful sleep.

* * * * *

The next day, Andrew was working in the shop, when Master Orin came over to observe his work. He looked at the arrow which was taking shape under Andrew’s hands. “That’s fine work, my boy. You are coming along very well!”

“Thank you, Master,” Andrew replied. He felt a glow of pleasure. Orin did not give praise lightly. When he said something was done well, he meant it.

“Andrew, when I first took you in, I wasn’t sure if it was going to work. But you’ve turned out to be one of the quickest and most hard-working lads I’ve ever met. You have the makings of an excellent fletcher. I have a proposition for you. After your fasaerid is over, would you consider staying on with me? You say there’s not much opportunity for you back home in the lowlands, but you certainly have a future here. I’d like to take you on as a full partner in my fletching business. What do you say?”

Andrew was taken aback. What could he say? He was a Baron’s son! This was a very generous offer, and showed how highly Master Orin though of him. But there was simply no way he could accept. He stammered. “Uh, that’s… wonderfully generous of you. Do you really think I’m that good?”

“Of course you’re good. And…” he grinned knowingly, “I’m not the only one who would be happy if you agreed to stay around here.” Andrew felt his ears turn red. He cleared his throat.
“Well, I’ll think about it,” he said. “Thank you.”

* * * * *

That evening, Andrew was on his way home from the small forest outside of Àmstaad. He was carrying a bunch of saplings for Master Orin’s workshop. As he passed the gate of one of the outlying houses, Andrew saw Karèl running out the front door. “Karèl!” he called in surprise. “What are you doing here?”

She hurried towards him. “I was just visiting my friend Erica,” she said. “I guess we lost track of time.” she giggled nervously, then suddenly became serious. “Papa must be terribly worried: I’m not supposed to be out after dark.”

“Oh, don’t fret,” said Andrew. “I’ll walk you home. You’ll be just fine.”

The pair were soon on their way. Andrew started whistling merrily, but Karèl seemed nervous. Gradually, a strange feeling began to come over Andrew as well, as if they were being followed. He started to say something, but Karèl halted abruptly and held up her hand. “Did you hear that?” she whispered. They waited in silence for a moment.

“It was nothing,” said Andrew after a moment. “You must be imagining things.”

“Wait! There it is again!” This time, Andrew heard it too. Someone was definitely behind them. Andrew nodded silently. Then he whirled around to confront the stalker. Only his quick reflexes saved him from a heavy blow to the head! With the speed of long practice, Andrew drew his dagger and rose onto the balls of his feet, ready for a fight. Narrowly avoiding another swing of the club, Andrew leapt forward and thrust his knife into the attacker’s chest. Before he could withdraw the blade, he and Karèl were surrounded by several more thugs. Karèl screamed, but the sound was suddenly cut off, as if someone had covered her mouth. Andrew turned around again, but not fast enough. A menacing shadow loomed up in front of him, a cudgel in its upraised arms. The blow fell more quickly than he could react. Andrew’s head felt like it was split in two. Lights flashed before his eyes. He fell to the ground, and knew no more.

* * * * *

Andrew woke in a smoky cave lit by torches. His hands and feet were bound, and he was facing a stone wall. Andrew rolled over and looked about him. Karèl was lying nearby, apparently still unconscious. He saw a scruffy-looking guard sitting in the corner of the room. The guard’s clothes were tattered, and it looked like he hadn’t bathed for weeks. He was holding a slightly rusty scimitar in his hand, and a pistol was tucked in his belt. He looked at Andrew and grunted.
“You’re awake.”

He got up and stomped out of the room. The sound seemed to wake Karèl. She stirred and sat up.

“Andrew?” she said groggily. “Wha- What’s happened? Where are we?”

“I don’t know,” he replied. “We seem to be in some sort of cave. I think we’ve been captured by bandits. The guard just left.” His mind was working furiously. “If they are just common thieves, what do they want with us? Why didn’t they just take our money and leave us lying in the street?”

Andrew could feel the waithe-brom against his chest. “Should I use it?” He thought uncomfortably. He finally decided against it. “I’m not in mortal peril,” he reasoned. “If they wanted to kill me, they would have done it already. There’s no need to use the stone.”

His thoughts were interrupted by the entrance of several ragged and unwashed ruffians, led by a man who seemed to be their leader. He turned and barked at his men. “Stay here and guard the door, but don’t make a sound.” Turning back toward Andrew and Karèl with a big smile and assuming a jovial tone, he said, “Greetings! Allow me to introduce myself: I am Joràn. Welcome to the Brotherhood!”

“Brotherhood?” snorted Andrew. “You’re nothing but common thugs!”

Joràn's eyes flashed angrily, but he quickly regained his composure. He chuckled woodenly, and said, “My associates are sometimes too… enthusiastic. But I assure you, we are not ‘common thugs.’”

Andrew looked at Joràn skeptically. The man cleared his throat and assumed a lecturing tone.
“We are the Brotherhood. We are all men who have been exploited by society, deprived of their basic needs by the wealthy and privileged….”

The men around him began to yawn. They’d heard this speech before. Joràn continued, oblivious. “We simply retake what is ours, earning a meager living by freeing the rich of their excess wealth. In fact…”

“So you’re common thugs,” Andrew interrupted.

Joràn, jolted out of his speech, glared at Andrew for a moment, then gave another lifeless laugh. “It is true, my associates are sometimes too… enthusiastic,” he said.

Andrew rolled his eyes. “And what do you want from us?”

“My men were sent to invite you to join our company. We are always looking for new recruits who are willing to join us in providing a valuable service to society, for everyone knows that riches are the gateway to corruption.”

“A fine way to invite new members: knocking them on the head!”

“Ah, yes. Well…” he paused. The men behind him were grumbling. Joràn turned.

“What are you complaining about?” he snapped.

“The boy killed Arnie!” one of them shouted. “We want revenge!”

Joràn sighed angrily. “We need him. The boy’s a fletcher. I’m not sure if you noticed, but bows work better if you have arrows to shoot with them.”

The men shuffled their feet nervously.

“Besides, didn’t you see the way he fought in the alley? We had him surrounded and caught by surprise in the dark, and he still managed to kill Arnie. He will be a valuable member of the brotherhood! More valuable than Arnie, and certainly more valuable than you are, morons!”
The men, subdued, returned to their posts. Joràn turned back to Andrew, again wearing the same hollow smile.

“What do you say, boy? Take it or leave it.”

Andrew curled his lip. “I’ll leave it. ‘Brotherhood’ indeed. I would never associate with scum like you.”

Joràn snarled and gestured to one of his men. The goon grabbed Karèl and held a dagger to her neck. She gave a little shriek of fright.

“Join us, or we slit her throat.” Joràn’s smile had suddenly turned into a sadistic grin, and his eyes glowed with malice.

Andrew’s mind started racing. He couldn’t just give in. But he had to save Karèl! A drop of blood trickled down the girl’s neck from where the dagger’s point was pressing against her skin. Her eyes were wide with terror.

“Andrew!” she gasped.

A dozen wild schemes flew through Andrew’s mind, all of them completely useless.
“Very well, if that is your decision,” sneered Joràn. He nodded to the man holding Karèl. She closed her eyes, steeling herself for the final blow…

“Wait!” shouted Andrew. “I’ll join!”

Joràn smiled triumphantly. He gestured to the thug, who let go of Karèl. She collapsed to the floor in a faint.

“Take her back to her father, and I’ll join your ‘brotherhood’” Andrew said dejectedly.

Joràn nodded. “Very well. But if you should ever go back on your word, we know just where to find her.” He chuckled to himself, then turned on his heel and marched out.

Hunt - Greftyle 1

Tessol was was almost completely burnt. Trees stood blackened and covered in soot although the explosion was almost three years ago. Huge mounds of dried lava sat frozen in time, still in the shape of rolling, hot magma. The four inches of rain that had fallen since the explosion had created small pools of stagnant water, creating a perfect place for mosquitoes to lay their hundreds of eggs, each one able to to carry the disease that had wiped out the last humans in Tessol.

* * * *

The smell of the horse in front of him was intoxicating but what he was really after was the rider. He could almost taste them now that he was so close. The women on top looked as if she had just gotten out of bed. She had caused him so much trouble he didn't care how she died as long as she did. She had crept into his territory three hours ago and he had chased her all the way of of his burnt Forrest into the huge crispy expanse that used to be Tessol. He was tired, but werewolves don't give up and never get enough meat. Running just made him hungrier. He bounded as far as he could.


* * * *

Queen Atta had snuggled herself in the mountain, but had thought she heard one on the shadows chasing her. She had no choice but to flee to Greftyle. After she had gotten to Greftyle she found nothing but miles of bunt trees and dirt. She had entered the forest and heard somthing else behind her. It was not a shadow, and she had no idea what was chasing her, but it looked like some sort of dog mixed with a man. A werewolf. When she first saw it, it had looked a lot smaller, but then after she had stood her ground, it stood on two legs and let out a howl that sounded like a wolf with a large pineapple down its throat. That's when she knew she had only one option, and that was running.


* * * *


The sun peeked over the mountains that covered Tessol. He knew that if the sun came up before he could hide, he would be as crispy as the landscape that stretched in front of him. He had no choice but to leave his prey and return to the forest behind him. He crept into the forest and glanced behind himself. The women was still riding. And she would be riding for another thirty-four miles before she would find anymore humans.

Greftyle Discription (Kingdom #1)

Terrain/ Political/ Society
Greftyle is covered in dense rain forests and large volcanoes, most of which will never explode. Greftyle is inhabited by about half a million humans, and split into three Provinces: Tessol, the northern region, Milebok, the eastern region, and Dewqu the central reagion. Each Province is ruled by a Prime Minister that reports to the King who resides on Leviathan Beach in Dewqu, and is in charge of everything. Succession is hereditary, but in case there is no heir all the inhabitants of dewqu vote for a new king. The province of Dewqu is home to the higher classes of inhabitants, who while away the days drinking tea in their huge villas. A huge desert stretches across Milebok, which is home to the poor and working of Greftyle. Also, there is a thriving slave trade, with most slaves being taken from Milebok and sold in Dewqu. Tessol was mostly destroyed by a volcano three years ago, and very few live there now. The technology level is medieval. Crossbows are preferred over regular bows, and guns are uncommon, but not unheard of.

Hydras
Hydras live in the ocean surrounding Greftyle. These huge beasts grow three heads and are often bloated, because each head thinks it has a separate stomach, although there is only one per animal. Despite this, they are dangerous predators, often eating humans who stray too close to the shore. Sometimes they come up on land if there is a relatively large amount of meat available nearby. It has been rumored that there are some that have up to seven heads, and devour entire ships. People have tried to tame them, but the attempt usually ends in the Hydra's belly.

Chapter 1: Darkness and Treachery

"My lady?" Tarina whispered to her queen. She looked out the window, the moon was high and wispy clouds blew too and fro. A breath of wind crept in and swirled around her ankles.
"Hmmnmn." Atta moaned and rolled over onto her side.
"Majesty please!" Tarina whispered urgently. The scraps of paper on the queens desk blew onto the floor and rustled around in the wind.
"What is it Tarina?" The queen sat up and rubbed her eyes, blinking in the light of her lady-in-waitings candlelight.
"You need to leave, now." Tarina said in such a serious voice, the queen jumped out of bed.
"What is it?" she asked looking in her lady's eyes to see the fear gripping the depths of her soul.
"Just go, now." Tarina said trying to be calm. Atta dressed quickly and silently, many thoughts swimming in her head. What had made her young earth servant act so...strangely? There weren't any problems with the council, she had been at the last meeting. There was nothing Atta could think of that would cause this alarm.
"Your horse is ready M'lady." Tarina said looking down.
"What about you?" Atta asked, hesitating at the door handle.
"D-don't mind me." Tarina said quietly, lip quivering. A tear fell from her eye. Atta took steps back to put her arm around Tarina, but she pulled away. "No majesty. Stay away from me." She closed her eyes and tried to regain her composure. "Goodbye." Atta looked at her once more, then glanced out the window. Something caught her eye. It looked like a discolored cloud of mist, but it was only there for a second, then it was gone. Atta grabbed her sword sitting by the door, and left for the stables. Minutes later she was galloping off into the night, riding toward the north, and to safety. She only stopped once at the base of the mountain path to look back at her castle. There where specks of black surrounding the castle. Atta gasped; where they shadows? She tried not to think of Tarina as she faced her horse forward, and shivered in the crisp, cold air. Another few seconds, and she was smuggled deeply in the mountains.

Tarina's heart pounded as she heard footsteps approach her room door. The air from outside froze her, and her breath was short. She lay in the queens bed thinking of who she would have said goodbye to if she had had the chance. she heard the door creek open, and whoever was there crept inside. Tarina took slow deep breaths, and sweat beaded on her forehead. She shut her eyes tight as someone snuck next to the bed. Then she felt cold air touch her as the covers were ripped off.
"What?!" The someone said angrily, as she grabbed Tarina by the front of her night gown and threw her to the floor. Whoever it was was hooded and cloaked. They were wearing a torn black dress ripped and ragged around the edges. They were wearing thick black boots that really didn't look like they matched the dress but looked menacing all the same. They had a pair of tell-tale leather wings spread to their fullest length. The shadow called out and several more shuffled in. The main one stepped in front of Tairna and held out her hand. One of the other cloaked figures handed her a dagger. It was stained red as if it had never been cleaned and had done much damage. On the end there was a hint of green. It was poisoned. She took of her cloak and Tarina gasped. The shadow was as pale as the moon and had empty gray eyes. Her lips were bright red and she had black greasy hair that fell around her face, eerily framing it in the moonlight. "You know what we hate about earths Tarina?" She asked, in such a cold whispery voice, it felt as though ice was piercing Tarina's ears. the other five shadows laughed under their breath, as if they new what was about to happen.
"n-no." Tarina said, and she backed up against the wall.
"Well, you see, they can't choose a side. You gave us information on how to get past all of the castles defenses and then you tell the queen to flee." The shadow turned suddenly and grabbed Tarina again, slamming her head against the stone wall, and holding the dagger to her throat. Her hands felt like ice, and Tarina couldn't look her in the eye. "Where is the queen, Tarina?" she asked in a mocking voice. Tarina stared at the shadow. She refused to say anything. The shadow held her tighter. "Where is your queen?" Still, no answer. "Where is your queen?!" She shrieked. She raised the dagger and cut down one side of Tarina's face from hair-line to chin. Tarina refused to cry out, but she closed her eyes and let the tears fall. Blood mixed with tears soaked the front of her gown, and she new that if the dagger was poisoned she would be dead in a couple of hours. When Tarina still refused to respond again, another slash went across her face and pain burst like a bomb in her head. Her eyes swam and she sobbed silently.
"I know helping you has cost me my life. But just remember, you didn't win last time, you won't this time. I would rather die then help this hideous rebellion again." Tarina said stubbornly.
"Well, that can be arranged." The shadow said quietly. In a second it was all over, and Tarina's body fell limp to the floor. The shadow turned to her fellow members and said menacingly, "The queen shall be found this night, or you shall pay with your lives." In an instant they were gone, and the shadow looked up at the pale moon. She said to herself while looking out the queens window. "Wouldn't this land look so much better bathed in blood?"

Chapter 1: Intrusion

The Hivemind is master.
Timing is of the essence. Sometimes, it is best to go fast. Sometimes, it is best to go slow.
Patience is needed for plans to be completed.
The Hivemind is master.
Shadow Glytherians. Psychic powers. Strained relations. Useful
Discovery of labyrinth in Phoenicia. Useful
Queen Tatyana dying. Maornya attempting usurpation. Anya, the heir nowhere to be found. Useful
Assassination of Archeron council members by assassins unknown successful. Useful.
The Hivemind is master.
Discovery of new vein of stone. Coordinates: 76, 89, 54
Discovery of new cove of fish. Coordinates: 43, 12, 90
The Hivemind is master.
Tree branches moving at coordinates 0, 23, 89
Swazigherian scouts report hearing unrecognized persons.
Visual. Appears to be small lad. Dress is Koval. Purpose here unknown.
Located beyond borders. Immobilization deemed necessary.

Andrew opened his eyes. It was nearly dark, and he knew he was not outside anymore. He tried to move his feet but they felt like they were encased in stone. His eyes adjusted to the dim light and he saw he was in a large room with a purplish tint. His feet were stuck in a purple subtance foreign to him. All of his possessions were on a table on the other side of the room.
He heard voices, but he could not understand them. “Vj pvsfs t p jmfph djncst.” “X xmm h pf t jp.” He strained to understand them, but they could not make sense. He continued examining himself to see what had caused his sudden blackout. He found a gash on his neck. As he was trying to figure out what had struck him there, he heard a voice.

“Touching the wound increases the pain.”
Andrew looked and he saw a man on the far side of the room. He looked like he was from Koval. Andrew looked at the man’s eyes, which seemed to be trying to see right through him.
“Where am I?” Andrew asked him.
“You are inside the Slyg tunnels.”
“Who are you?”
“We are the Slyg.”
“You don’t look like what I’ve heard Slyg look like.”
“What were you expecting?” After he said this, his voice sounded more like a snake rasping, and also as if multiple voices were speaking at once. “Sohme mohnstehr youuu couhld hahte? Wouhld youuu prehfehr thihs?”
As he spoke, large purple spines started to slowly protrude from every section of his body. After they had completely extended, he stood there for a few minutes looking like someone had stabbed him through with many purple spines. Then, the spines retreated back effortlessly into his body. As far as anyone could tell, they had never come out. Then he spoke again, in a calm tone to Andrew.
“So now that you have asked your share of the questions, let us ask ours.” The man said.
“First, what were you doing beyond our borders?”
"I didn't know I had crossed the borders."
The man held up Andrew's waithe-brom.
"Is this what we think it is?"
"That depends on what you think it is."
"Pair-bound stone. Uses Silder from Valsurstagt"
"I suppose there's no use in denying it."
"Who holds the twin?"
"The Baron Daniel FinKaerin" his eyes flashed suddenly. "You'd better release me right now. If I activate the stone, the baron himself, and half the King's bodyguard, will fly in and annihilate
you."
"How do you plan to activate the stone when we hold it?"
Andrew grinned sheepishly. The man continued.
"There is no need to call up your reinforcements. You are in no danger from us, unless you are lying. You appear to be a Kovàl peasant, yet you claim to have an army and flying Griffins at your beck and call? This does not make sense to us. Peasants do not command kings and we wish to know more."
"I'm not lying."
"We will see."

With that, the man put his fingers on Andrew's head. All of a sudden, Andrew felt like a
thousand fingers were crawling into his brain. Imagine hearing a million thoughts and yet silence.
Imagine seeing a million sights and yet nothing. In an instant, Andrew saw all throughout Trellarya and
heard many thoughts, none of which he could remember, except one which continued to pulsate itself
over and over again. The Hivemind is master. The Hivemind is master. The Hivemind is master. And then
it was over.
The man looked at Andrew. “We have found your word to be true. We will leave you on your borders with all of your possessions. We will then send one of us to talk to your leaders to ensure that no misunderstandings come of this.”
Andrew nodded his head, but something didn’t feel right.
“We will need to incapacitate you, as we have a long way to go and it will be much quicker for us to transport you if you cannot move. Do not worry. You will see, but be incapable of movement. The effects will last an hour. We will make sure not to set you where any wild animals are.”
The man then stuck a spine into his neck. Andrew felt his entire body go numb. It was the same feeling he had felt when these creatures had first taken him. He felt very woozy.

There was a bright flash of sunlight. The man was standing over him and removing the spine from Andrew. He then slid the spine into his body. He looked at Andrew. “We have kept our end of the bargain. We trust you will not come onto our territory again without good reason. To do such could start a war…” He paused. “And we don’t think you would like that, or what we would do to you if we see you again, and we will remember you.”
With that, he burrowed into the ground.

Andrew FinKarein, son of Baron Daniel FinKarein, only heir. Deaths of both would cause chaos and possibly civil war. Very useful.
The Hivemind is master.

Tirane Description

I'm posting this for Rachel, or LCF:

In Tirane there is one main river that flows across the island and has formed a canyon. There are also tall snowy peeks and a hilly/plane land that is about the climate of Ireland. There is a big forest at the bottom of the mountain that extends to the coast line. Most of the land is covered in Oak, Elm, and Aspen. There are some trees that grow only in certain places, these trees are Wild Cherry Trees, those Asian Dr. Seuss Trees, Lilacs, and Elvish Trees [the great big ones].

In the political system each species elects a representative. That representative then is a council member. The council then votes on all matters. Each species has its own section of the island and the council member is like a governor for each section. How long a council member serves is left entirely up to the different species. A council member may never leave the council until the time their species has set.

The inhabitants are: Men, Elfs, Fauns, Centaurs, Dwarfs, Cave Vrimps, Dark Hagons, Irish Hagons, Red Hagons, and Hawk Feet. Those are just the represented inhabitants from the land. There are two kinds of water inhabitants. They are Mir Maids and Water Nymphs.

I'll be brief about the way of life. The species mostly keep to them selves but there are a few cities where species mingle. In their different section each species has their own ways and traditions. The technology is varied from rather advanced to magical happenings.

Kovàl, chapter one: Introduction

As the prairies and rivers of the lowlands gave way to the stony hills and high moors of the highlands, Andrew took a deep breath of the crisp Latewinter air. The Griffin he and his father were riding sped up the rhythm of her wings, rising higher with each powerful stroke. “There is nothing else like this in all Trellarya,” Andrew thought to himself, as the sun rising behind him bathed the countryside below in a rosy glow. The ground was mostly free of snow, but the morning frost gave a crystalline sparkle to the landscape as it fell away rapidly behind.

While contemplating the beauties of sunrise in the highlands, Andrew’s thoughts drifted to the reason for this journey: his coming-of-age! Every boy in Kovàl, exactly six months before his eighteenth birthday, was sent out on his own, away from the city of his birth. This was the coming-of-age, fasaerid in the ancient tongue. He was to survive by his own wits and his own work for those six months until his birthday, at which point he was accepted into society as a grown man. For poor boys, this was a chance to escape from the drudgery and prejudice of home life. For the sons of nobility, it provided a taste of real life away from wealth and luxury, and invaluable perspective for the day when the responsibilities of government fell on their shoulders. Sure, the fasaerid was risky, but it was a long-standing and deeply rooted Kovàl tradition, and on the whole, a beneficial one.

Andrew thought of all this and more as the flight wore on. His hand wandered to the fine golden chain around his neck, and the small jewel hanging next to his skin. He grimaced. Andrew was no ordinary boy: he was the son of the baron Daniel FinKaerin, and the only heir of the FinKaerin barony. If he were to die during the next six months, it would be disastrous for the whole kingdom. The dispute over the succession would be prolonged and bitter, even leading to civil war. Many thousands of lives could be lost in such a war, and with Trellarya growing ever more dangerous, disunity now bring destruction on the entire kingdom. As a result, Andrew wore a waithe-brom, or pair-bound stone. His father held its twin. These useful items, made of Silder from the kingdom of Välsurstägt, are enchanted through an unkown method, to form a mystical connection between the stones of the pair. When one is activated, the other responds, and the stones are drawn to one another. If Andrew was ever in mortal peril, he was to use this stone to call his father to his aid. Of course, this would be utterly humiliating: he would have failed his fasaerid! The young FinKaerin was sure the danger, both to himself and to the kingdom, was exaggerated, and inwardly resolved never to use the waithe-brom, no matter what happened.

Andrew snapped out of his reverie when the Griffin he was riding banked sharply to the left. They began to lose elevation rapidly as she circled lower and lower. “We’re landing!” Andrew’s heart pounded in his ears as the Griffin alighted gently by the side of a small country road. The sun was shining brightly now, melting the frost rapidly, but it seemed to have no power to warm the chilly air. Andrew hopped off the Griffin’s back and stretched his sore muscles. Several hours’ flight on Griffin-back was no joke! But, like all well-trained Kovàl, his first thought was for his mount. He went up to her head and stroked the beautiful golden feathers.

“Good girl, Beulah. A perfect landing, as usual.”

The Griffin cooed appreciatively. The boy had always been her favorite human, and she enjoyed his praise. Andrew unwrapped a squashy package of meat from one of the saddle-bags, and held it up to Beulah’s beak. She snapped up the food eagerly: she had a lot more flying ahead of her, and she would need the extra energy.

The baron Daniel FinKaerin watched his son with approval. “Look at how the Griffin loves him. That boy will be great someday.” Yet his smile quickly faded: he had come here to send Andrew off on his coming-of-age. The baron and his son shared a very deep bond, and he would miss the boy sorely. He turned toward Andrew.

“I believe you have everything you need,” he began, speaking very quickly. “An extra change of clothes, a warm cloak, food and water, and a small purse of money. You have bow and arrows, a sword, and the skill to use both. And of course, you have the waithe-brom. Remember what your mother has told you: stay away from the seedier inns and the gambling houses…”

As his father babbled on, Andrew smiled to himself. They had been over this at least a dozen times already. He knew he was just trying not to show how worried he was. On an impulse, Andrew ran over and embraced his father.

“Thanks for everything, Dad,” he said. Andrew was surprised to see the glint of tears in his father’s eyes.

“Take care of yourself, son.” The baron opened his mouth to say more, but thought better of it. Words were not necessary. He smiled, turned away, mounted the Griffin, and took off. Andrew waved goodbye, and watched until his father was only a speck in the distance. Then he shouldered his pack, took up his bow, and set out to face the world.

Akeylea

Akeylea~

Political/Social
Akeylea is the land of the Glytherians, a race of humanoid creatures with elemental powers. They run one of the biggest kingdoms in Trellarya, home to about 300,000 Glytherians. They are a steel age kingdom, still using swords, bows, maces...etc. The Glytherians are ruled by a council of 6, one member from each viable element, and a king or queen elected by the council members. The king/queen may veto laws, but if there is a unanimous vote from the council members, then he, or she, is overruled. Akeylea has just come out of a bloody civil war, and has found temporary peace among all elements, though there is tension between them.

Land
Akeylea is wooded with dense forests to the south-west, bordered by desert a little more to the east. Most of the north is mountainous, though along both shores lie small swamps. There are small villages scattered through Akeylea, though only five large cities to speak of.

Elements
There are seven different elements that Glytherians can have power over, water, fire, energy, earth, air, shadow, and cosmic. There are the waters, who keep to themselves and are the fighters of Akeylea. They can swim well, hold their breath for up to five hours, and they do have a pair of wings that can be used for flying short distances. Waters wield spears. Next are Fires. They are not affected by fire, and can manipulate small amounts of it. They are usually the brightest element. They wield swords. The energys are not very agile, though they have the greatest strength of all the elements. They wield whips. The earths are fun-loving and have a natural bit of luck that seems to follow them. They are very charismatic. Earths wield long bows and have wings on their ankles used to hover. Airs are strong-willed and witty. They have a good mind for strategy. They have feathered wings and can fly for great distances. Axes are their choice weapon. Shadows are the outcasts of Akeylea. Though they were welcomed into the council in the recent peace, they are the social outcasts, and only make friends with their own. They have the ability of instant teleportation up to three miles away, and they have phsycic abilities. Shadows have been the cause of many a civil war; they wield flails or maces. The last element is cosmic. there is only one known cosmic and she keeps to herself in the peaks to the North of Akeylea. Cosmics are very powerful, and their limits have not yet been tested. No one knows how their power is gained.

Military
Akeylea is very much a military state, though weakened recently by civil war. Now that the many armies of the elements have united, they have a large military force, though they are trying to wean themselves off of military force and trying to turn to more peaceful means.
Akeylea is glad to join this realm, and wishes peace to the it's many neighbors, though let it be known, they know how to defend!

Välsurstägt: The Fight for the Throne, part 1

The clouds were gathering over Välsurstägt. The Queen was ailing fast, and no one knew how long it might be until the trial of Vanderlak might be held to appoint a new one.
The whole realm was stirred by this. I felt it strongly, living in the palace, for if one is only a maidservant, such as I was, nobody curbs their tongues. I thought I knew a good deal more of events than most of the nobles.
It was the first day of midwinter, the start of the new year. The First Day is a great celebration in Välsurstägt, but it wasn’t a day of celebration for me.
I was on my feet all day, cleaning, polishing, fetching and carrying for what seemed like millions of people. I wasn’t even actually allowed into the banquet halls. The housekeeper felt I was far too rustic and common. She often said this, which irritated me. I only worked at the palace because I had too. My parents died when I was very small, and the only relation I had at all was my brother. He didn’t like me much, which didn’t bother me. I didn’t like him much either.
When the sky was darkening, I was sent to clean the large fireplace on the second floor. I despised cleaning fireplaces, and as soon as I had knelt down in front of it, an enormous gust of wind came whistling down the chimney and scattered ashes all over me.
I spat out a mouthful of coal dust, and tried to wipe off my face with my sleeve. It didn’t do a bit of good, just created a large black stain on my dress. Sighing with frustration, I picked up my brush, and began to sweep the ashes into a pan.
Just as I had got to the horribly dirty part at the back, I heard a door shut down the hall. Looking up, I saw one of the ladies’ maids hurrying toward me. I turned back to the fireplace. The ladies’ maids have no use for the servants, such as an under housemaid like me.
But then I heard a voice calling my name. “Anya! Anya!” it said, breathlessly. I dropped the pan of ashes with a clatter, as I turned again to look in amazement.
“You were calling me?” I asked incredulously.
“Yes! Come, quickly!” she said, grabbing my sooty hand and pulling me to my feet.
“What in the kingdoms is the matter?” I asked, as I was pulled along down the hall.
“The queen is worse, she wants you.”
“Why would she want me?” I gulped. “I’ve never even seen her.”
“I don’t know, all of a sudden, she just said ‘please, find Anya and bring her to me’, you are the only Anya around here that I know of.”
I couldn’t think of anything to say, and just tried to wipe a little more of the coal dust.
We came to a door. The ladies’ maid opened it and gave me a shove. I wasn’t expecting this, and lost my balance. I staggered into the room and across the floor in a most undignified fashion, not at all the first impression I would have liked to make on the queen.
She was lying in an enormous, tapestried, four poster bed. To my great astonishment, she was not a bit old, between twenty and twenty-five. Also, she looked very much like me. The very same dark gold hair, and the same, strange eyes. One a deep, forest green, and the other a dark, velvety purple. I had never seen someone with eyes like mine before
I walked tentatively toward the bed. The queen turned, and smiled at me. I made a flustered curtsy, remembering the royal etiquette, and said, “Your Majesty,”.
“Please,” said the queen. “Call me Tatyana,”
“I shall,” I said, surprised, and very much pleased. I snuck a look at the other maid, feeling smug.
Tatyana gestured at a chair. “Please, Anya, sit down. And Golnya, you may go.”
The other maid left. I sat down in the chair, and looked at Tatyana. She reached out, and took my hand.
“Were you surprised when I sent for you?” she asked.
“Well, yes,” I admitted. “I didn’t know why.”
“Because I have something very important to tell you, that will be a great surprise. You are destined to be the next Queen of Välsurstägt.”
“WHAT? I gasped.
“I thought you would be surprised,” said Tatyana, with a hint of a smile.
“How.., I mean, why...but,” I stuttered desperately.
“You are half of the fay folk, just as I am,” she said calmly.
“How do you know?” I asked.
“The eyes, you have the fay eyes, just as I do. And the fay ears too, I think.” I put a hand to my head. My ears were pointed at the tips, but I was careful always to comb my hair over them so nobody would see. “You shall be the next queen, for you are the only such person in Välsurstägt, I know.”
I was silent for moment, thinking. The possibility swam before my eyes. The next Queen! The ruler of all Välsurstägt! I knew from Tatyana’s tone that she was speaking the truth, not simply teasing me.
“But what about my brother, he is older than me,”
“He is only your half-brother. He is not of the fay.”
“But the trial, how will I pass it?”
“You will pass the trial, but you may not even make it there. You must be wary.”
“Why? What is wrong?”
Tatyana sighed heavily. “You know the duchess Maornya da Kulstey?”
“I have seen her,” I said.
“She is a very ambitious woman, ruthless and power hungry. She also works magic.”
I gasped. It is strictly forbidden for humans to work magic, it causes so many problems. “But is that not against the law.”
Tatyana laughed bitterly. “Maornya has never and will never care anything about the laws. I know that when I die, she will try to seize the throne, although she has not a drop of Faerie blood. She wants the silder mines, she wants power, she wants wealth.”
“But-, surely she can stopped!”
“No amount of force will conquer Maornya. She will kill anyone who tries to challenge her.”
“But she doesn’t know about me, and she won’t know until it’s too late.”
“She knows. She knows that you are the only half-faerie in Välsurstägt. She, in fact, holds what will stop you from having contact with the Faerie side of your nature. She holds your kivae.”
I was silent. I had heard of the faerie stone Kivae, a charm which every Fay received at their christening and wore until their death.
Tatyana reached under the collar of her night dress, and brought out a necklace. It was silver, with a green stone as a pendant. The stone throbbed with light, and threw beams across the room. I gasped.
“This is my Kivae.” said Tatyana. “While I wear it, no evil magic can harm me, such as the sort Maornya practices. Without it, she would have destroyed me long ago.”
“And she holds my kivae,” I said, slowly, beginning to realize the danger that I was in.
“Yes, you must find it, and go, far away from here, until the trial of Vanderlak, and until you can claim your rightful place as Queen of Valsurstagt.”
My head was spinning. In five minutes my life had changed so dramatically that it left me dizzy. A faerie, the next queen, a woman who wanted my life, how could I do it?
“You can do it, Anya,” said Tatyana. “I know you have the strength. Here is what you must do.” She pointed to a wardrobe. “Go and find the white cape.”
I got up, and went over to the wardrobe. Inside were many beautiful gowns and one, pure white cape. I brought it over to the bed.
Tatyana put it over my shoulders. “This is made from spun silder. It is one of the most valuable things in this kingdom, for no weapon can penetrate it. It has belonged to every one of Välsurstägt’s queens. It belongs to you now. It will protect you from any physical attacks.”
“Thank you,” I breathed.
“This very night, you must go and find you kivae. It will not be far from Maornya, she guards it obsessively. However, she will be out late at the party, and will likely have left it in her room for safekeeping. After you find it, you must leave the palace.”
“How shall I do that?” I asked.
“I expect that with your kivae, it will not be difficult. You must go far from here, and when you hear that I am dead, come for the trial.”
“Surely.., you won’t die soon,” I ventured.
“Yes, I shall die soon, but I am not afraid.” said Tatyana. “And when my human body is drained of life, I shall be with the fays again for all eternity, for the fay side of me is immortal, it shall never die.”
“But-” I said, feeling as though I might cry.
“No,” Tatyana caught my hand. “Don’t worry, you shall do very well on your own. It is your destiny to rule, and never forget that. You are the rightful queen.” she paused a minute. “But, when you need help, think of me, and I will be with you, by your side to guide you.”
“Thank you,” I whispered.
“Now go,” said Tatyana. “And do not forget what I have told you. Maornya’s room is along this corridor, five doors down from mine to the left.” I knew that room well, I had cleaned it many times.
“Goodbye,” I said, desolately, standing up.
“Goodbye,” said Tatyana. “And good luck.”

I opened Tatyana’s door, and shut it behind me carefully. In a daze, my feet carried me down the hall toward the rooms of the Duchess da Kulstey.
There was the door. I reached for the knob, opened it, and walked in. The room was empty of people, which was a relief, but still, I was nervous.
Where would she keep my kivae? I wondered. The first place that occurred to me was the dressing table drawer where I knew the rest of the jewelry was. Then, I reasoned She could pretend it was ordinary jewelry.
The room was dark, and I had not thought to bring a candle. I felt my way over to the dressing table, managing not to knock anything over. I opened the drawer. I had dusted it so many times I knew it by heart. Reaching in, I felt about in the duchesses jewelry. I felt nothing out of the ordinary, I was sure I would know my kivae if I touched it.
My fingers explored the bottom of the drawer. Smooth, cold wood. But then, I felt a ridge. Feeling along it, I came to another that intersected it. Digging my fingernails into the wood, I lifted a piece about the size of my palm. As the panel came away, a gleaming purple light filled the room, radiating from the drawer. Trembling with excitement, I reached down, and drew out my kivae. It was exquisite, dark purple stone, that sparkled and gleamed, giving off an eerie, unearthly glow. The stone was cut it the shape of a many pointed star, and mounted in a silver frame, attached to a silver chain. I turned it over. On the back there were carved three words, Anya La Fay. Anya the fay.
“Anya,” I whirled. Maornya was standing in the door, holding a dagger. She spat out the word as though it pained her to say it. “I thought this time would come, when you would be so foolish as to challenge my power. You shall regret this descision.”
I clutched the kivae. “I will not regret it,” I said evenly. “You can keep it from my no longer, it is mine,” With that, I fastened the chain round my neck.
Maornya shrieked, a mixture of rage and terror. “Stay away from me, Fay!”
When I fastened the chain, I felt protection drain into me from the kivae, it felt hot against the skin of my neck, throbbing and glowing as magic spread through me.
“I shall allow nothing to interfere with my plans,” Maornya said, regaining her composure, and advancing on me with the dagger raised.
There was no doubt in my mind that she was going to kill me. I threw out my hands instinctively. The dagger fell to the floor, burning and dissolving into a purple flame. Then it disappeared with a bang. I drew back my hands, horrified. Was that magic? Have I broken the law? But no, the law is not to use magic against other people who cannot defend themselves, I would have been killed if I hadn't. It was the kivae that had done it, not me. The magic the law referred too was the sorcery that people like Maornya used to bring evil to other people, and power to themselves. It said nothing about the magic that the faeries used to do good.
I had almost forgotten the duchess in this contemplation, but now I was yanked out of my thoughts.
“You think you have defeated me, but my powers are infinite, and I shall destroy you!” she shouted,
I knew that she would, if she could. A bolt of blue lightning shot through the ceiling toward me, I turned, shielding my eyes and holding out my hand again. And the light saved me again, blocking the lightning. It struck between us and a burned black patch in the floor and a produced cloud of dark blue smoke
“You cannot destroy me,” I said, glaring strait into her cold gray eyes. I want to get away! I thought desperately. How much longer can I last? But Maornya was between me and the door. I put a hand on my kivae. Please!
I felt a very peculiar sensation, as shivers ran through me, and my feet seemed to leave the floor. Then they touched again, but this time on grass. I looked about. I was now standing in a mountain valley, in a small stand of pine trees. It was dark, and very cold, but I had never thought a place so wonderful in my life.
I sank down on the ground, pulling Tatyana’s cloak around me. For now I am safe, I thought

Night of Terror- Archeron

Dulaman Elmen sat up with a start. His dreams had been troubled for several nights now, but this time it hadn't been a nightmare that jarred him awake. There seemed to be some sort of commotion outside his room. He jumped out of bed, ran over to the door, and peered out the keyhole. There were six guards in the hall leading to his room, and they were all fully armed and ready.

"Lock this place down! Come on people, let's move it!" bellowed the leader. Dulaman straitened up and opened his door. The second the head guard noticed Dulaman, he turned and spoke quickly:

"Sorry councilman, you've got to stay in your room. Orders."

"Why, what's going on?" Dulaman replied quizzically.

"Consul Grifton's been assassinated." The guard responded grimly.

"That's all? You woke me up for that?"

"He's not the only one, sir."

"Wait, someone else has been killed too?"

"Yes. Half the council is dead already, and we fear there may be attempts on the rest of the council as well."

"I'll go get dressed immediately then."

"Good, hurry sir." Dulaman quickly retreated back into his room. He opened his wardrobe and donned his forester's clothes; A long, forest green hooded tunic, high boots of brown leather, and a full quiver. He also strung his bow, and strapped his short sword onto his belt. The second he was done he opened his door once again.

"So, what's the plan?" He asked the chief guard as soon as he got out.

"I just told you a moment ago, councilman, you're to stay in your room." The chief guard replied.

"But that's total folly! If I stay in my room they'll know exactly where to find me."

"I'm sorry councilman, but we can't leave."

"Listen," Dulaman said to the man, leaning in and looking him square in the eye. "I'm a master of the Forestry guild. If there truly is a threat to my life, I'll be best equipped to defend myself if I'm outside." The guard stared at him, unmoved. "Fine," Dulaman continued "but I'm sure you know that anyone who is going to attempt to kill a councilman will account for six Surrian guards." The chief guard was about to speak, when one of the young guards interrupted.

"Sir, out there in the courtyard, I think I see something." he said as he pointed out the only window in the corridor.

"Get down!" Dulaman yelled, but it was to late. There was the sound of a gust of wind, and the young guard fell to the floor, dead. "How about now, Guardy man?" Dulaman asked sarcasticly "They'll be making for my window."

"All right. Let's move men!"

***
Several minutes later, as he ran through the darkened street towards the river park, Dulaman couldn't help but marvel at how nice the night was. Though it was Latewinter, there was no frost in the air. 'Something isn't right' he thought to himself as he continued. He looked around to get his bearings. There was the Red Quatl Inn, it was just three blocks now, and he'd be on his turf, in his own element. As he looked around he realized he must have lost his guards somewhere along the way. 'Oh well, easier to hide that way.'

Somewhere off on the other side of the river he heard the cracking of gunfire. 'Whatever is happening in Ser tonight, it's obviously not confined to the West Bank. Someone must be trying to eliminate the council, but why? The current council can barely agree on anything anyway.' Dulamamn could now see the trees and brush encased in cast iron fence looming on the left ahead of him. He was almost at the park. But then, something caught his eye. There was a bit of movement in a window on the right side of the street. Instinctively, Dulaman dived forward. The second he did he was thankful for it, because two arrows whizzed through where his chest had been a second ago. Quickly he glanced about the street looking for some cover, but there was none to be found. So, without thinking he stood up and sprinted blindly back the way he had come. More gunfire sounded in the distance.

'Well, this isn't the worst off I've ever been.' thought Dulaman to himself as he ran. 'I can think of a plan. I'll live. I mean, Dulaman, twenty-nine years is too short a life, right? I've done a lot, but it's still too short.' As he was passing the Red Quatl Inn for the second time, the moon came out from behind the clouds, illuminating the street in front of him. Dulaman froze in his tracks at the sight that confronted him. Three figures in black cloaks stood in the road in front of him. He turned around to run back again, but saw another figure further down the street, with an arrow trained on him. 'This is really the end now, isn't it?' He raised his hands and turned back to the three figures in front of him.

"You've given us quite a chase, councilman Elmen." the figure in the middle said sarcastically, as it began to advance toward him. "Of course, we expected it would be interesting with you."

"Would you just kill me and get it over with?!?" Dulaman shot back.

"Oh, but where would the fun be in that?" sneered the figure. Then Dulaman heard the cold metallic sound of a swords being drawn, and saw the glint of blades in the hands of his assailants. They began to advance. He looked around quickly. The bowman still had the arrow trained on him, and there were no other ways out. Now they were only thirty feet in front of him. More gunfire rumbled in the distance. This time, however, it didn't die away. The rumbling
continued, until Dulaman, and his assailants, could tell that they were no longer hearing gunfire. The rumbling was coming from beneath them.

"Wha- what is is it?" stuttered one of the silhouettes.

"Speak not!" the leader shouted back. Then, with barely any warning, a large copper sphere broke from the ground between Dulaman and the three assassins, showering bits of dirt and stone into the street. Dulaman and the assassins all froze. An arrow zipped from behind Dulaman and broke on impact with the sphere. Suddenly, the sphere, which was about 15 feet
in diameter, and had about a dozen small bulges at various places around it, sprouted what looked like a periscope from a bulge on top. Another arrow shot out, but to no avail. As the periscope looked around, Dulaman stood frozen in utter bewilderment, wondering what the thing was. Then, from four small bulges around the bottom, the sphere sprouted four long, spindly legs, each ending in a circular disc-like foot. The sphere stood up and began to move toward Dulaman. Its locomotion was almost a walk, but it was more precarious, and left you with the impression that it had been based on the walk of a drunk spider. The sphere stood at least 8 feet off the ground, and didn't stop until it was directly over Dulaman. As he stared up at its underside, it popped open, and a ladder dropped down.

"Get in, quick!" called a voice from inside. Dulaman was too awestruck to question, and did as he was told.

***

The second Dulaman climbed in, the ladder retracted and the hatch closed below him. As he climbed out of the short shaft, he found himself in a small, cramped, dimly lit room. It was circular, about eight feet across, and had a comfortable looking bench that ran all around the edge. Also, Dulaman saw that the circular shaft he had climbed from was open in the center of the room, and about four feet deep. He also noticed that he couldn't stand up straight because
the ceiling was too low, so he decided to sit down. He was glad he did, because a moment later, there was a large lurch, and he felt the sphere moving downwards, as best as he could tell. Then, without warning, the center of the ceiling of the room opened up, and down hopped a man.
He was about five-foot eight, had a jolly face, and a muscular build. He was dressed in a dark brown shirt with white leggings and a short light brown tunic. On his head thin locks of red-brown hair peeked out from under a leather cap. The man turned to Dulaman.

"Grand Master Jeshu Mechix of the Clockwork guild, at your service councilman!" he said with a wink and a bow.

"Uh, thank you." Replied Dulaman stupidly.

"Goodness, why do they always act so dumbstruck?" Jeshu muttered to himself. "This sphere is only simple clockwork. Well, maybe complicated clockwork, but it's still only clockwork. Nothing spectacular about it. Now, might I have the pleasure of your name, councilman?"

"Elman. Uh, Dulaman Elmen."

"Well, Dulaman, why so glum? You're alive, and very safe, for the moment. I'm afraid that most of the council members aren't as lucky as that right now." Jeshu sat down across from Dulaman and looked expectantly for a response, but Dulaman just stared ahead moodily, lost in thought. Finally he spoke.

"They're probably all dead, right now. They were my friends, my colleagues, and they've been murdered for no reason other then that they are the leaders. And I've escaped. Somehow, through some stroke of random luck, I'm still alive. Why me and not one of them!? Why couldn't we all go together? I wish I had died back there! It would make everything so much easier."

"Actually Dulaman, the record will show that you did die." Jeshu said gravely.

"What?" Dulaman asked, confused.

"You see, a guard was killed near your bedchamber. I've had things set up so that they use that body to make it look like you died. It's the perfect cover for you. You see, I'm getting a team together. Myself and several other higher-ups in the guilds believe that there is a great threat to Archeron, perhaps even all Trellarya, growing in the mountains."

"What do you mean?" Dulaman asked skeptically.

"Basically, I need your help, and now the way has been paved for you to be able to leave everything and help me."

"Do I have a choice?"

"Yes, of course you do! If you don't want in, then I can simply return you to Ser. Of course, if you do agree to come, you'll be instrumental in shaping the future of Archeron, much more so then you'll ever be in the government." Dulaman thought hard. 'My life has been torn away from me tonight. It'll never be the same. I can either go back to the wreckage or take a new life altogether. Which way should I go? They both have their advantages and disadvantages. I better decide, Jeshu is waiting. Oh, why not? You always wanted adventure.'

"I'll do it." Dulaman replied surely.

Phoenicia One

Just East of the Ruined City of Knossus, on the Island of Crete

The late afternoon sun was obscured by a dark shape. It rose slowly in the blue sky, silhouetted against the yellow light. As the huge shadow fell over the dig site the laboring excavators looked up to see the cause of the sudden darkness. A loud whirring sound filled the air, accompanied by a strong wind. The noise grew, and the wind blew harder. The diggers stopped their work. A few covered their ears, some ran in fear. Most stood up to stare. Finally the source of the disturbance, an enormous ship-like craft, abruptly lost altitude. As the vessel descended it became more visible.

They had expected the arrival of this strange ship, but not its size. No one among them had ever seen anything like it before. Shaped like a bireme, there was an enormous inflated balloon above the craft where a sail should have been. A propeller at the rear of the ship (in place of a rudder) seemed to be the cause of the noise. The underside of the vessel had been flattened out, so as to provide a steady landing. Tiny figures could be seen walking about the deck of the airship, performing unknown tasks. It descended onto an open grassy field prepared for it a few miles away from the workers.

Two men and three horses were waiting for the airship. The shorter of the two, Demetrious, was uneasy. His companion was awe-struck.

‘So this is what they’ve been up to back home,’ he said in a stunned voice.

‘Yes, this and more. Only the very important get to use things like this airship, Pyramus. Do you know what that means?’

Pyramus rolled his eyes. ‘I’m going to guess that it means our guest is important.’

‘That’s right. He is the personal advisor to the Emperor himself. Second most important man in all Phoenicia. Maybe in all of central Trellarya. So don’t mess this up for me.’

‘If he doesn't like what he sees,'' Pyramus replied, ''it's your head on the chopping block, not mine.’

‘Thank you for the vote of confidence.’ Demetrious sighed. ‘But he will approve. We've been working at double capacity, and it’s not like we're in any hurry. Still, Lord Adastros is supposed to have a temper. We've hardly scraped the surface of the Knossos site alone. We’re on schedule, but the schedule wasn’t very detailed.’ He was talking mainly to himself now.

‘You wrote the schedule for him, sir.’

‘Still…’

''Have you met him, sir?’

‘Not met him, not exactly.’ Demetrious sighed again. ‘But I've seen him! This man is adviser to the Emperor! Whatever he says goes!'

‘We have been through this before...’

There was now silence between the two. Their relationship was very paradoxical. When Demetrious was put in charge of the Crete project he had virtually no idea what he was doing. Pyramus, his assistant, had the brains. His knowledge complimented Demetrious’ leadership, his ability to get people to do things. Demetrious resented the debt he owed Pyramus, and it showed during their interactions. But he did respect his assistant, and, in fact, Demetrious even envied Pyramus.

‘It’s landing,’ Pyramus said.

‘I can see that! Are we ready? How do I look?’

‘Fine. You look fine.’ The wind whipped Demetrious’ hair. As the airship touched down the noise lessened, and propeller slowed. Demetrious could see the Lord Adastros now, looking down on them from the deck. A gangplank was lowered, which Adastros descended. He raised one hand in greeting. Demetrious noticed the man’s dress: he wore only a simple tunic, with ought toga. He had a sword-blade at his side, but it was only a ceremonial weapon, unsharpened. ‘Demetrious?’ Adastros was looking at Pyramus. The foreman leaped forward.

‘I am Demetrious, my lord. Welcome to Crete! It is an honor to meet you!’
‘Is that so?’ Only Pyramus noticed the sardonic way in which Adastros spoke.

‘Yes, my lord!‘ Demetrious continued. ‘I think you will find that we are on schedule. We have located the Palace at Knossos and began work there. We have already found what we think is the treasure vault, my men - our men are working there right now! And might I say again what an honor it is to meet you in person!''

‘Yes, yes,’ said Adastros impatiently. He pointed to the horses. ‘Are these for us?’

‘Of course, your honor! It is a few miles to our camp, and we’ve had no need for any sort of chariot until now.’ Adastros grimaced and swung himself onto one of the steeds. Demetrious and Pyramus followed suit, and together they began down the dirt path to the dig.

All the while Demetrious rambled on about the excavation, and all the artifacts they were finding. Urns and chamber pots seemed to interest him as much as money interested a tax collector. He spoke about what remained of the city. The lower sections of the city walls remained intact; the upper parts having collapsed onto the streets along with the houses. The marketplace had been partially indoors also, so when the earthquake struck virtually everyone had been killed. Few seemed to have survived the first quake, but were killed during the aftermath when they foolishly sought shelter in any remaining buildings.

During Demetrious’ monologue about the native wildlife of the isle, Adastros interrupted. ‘This is all well and good, foreman. But what I am really interested in is the Palace. Especially the throne room.’

Demetrious looked a little surprised. ‘Oh. Yes, of course! Pyramus? Can I have the plans to the Palace?’ Pyramus reached into his satchel and withdrew a scroll. ‘We got this from the family that designed the Palace hundreds of years ago, from Tyre.’ He handed over the according scroll, and Adastros unrolled the parchment. ‘There,’ Demetrious said, pointing. ''Is where we think the Throne Room was. There are doors all around, leading to antechambers and various halls. This one,’ Demetrious pointed again. ‘Mysteriously leads to . . . nowhere. It would make sense for secret, unplotted rooms to store treasure, no? The diggers are working through the rubble in front of the door as we speak.’

By this time the trio had traveled to the main gate of Knossus. The brick walls were only about six feet high, where before they had towered several stories high. They passed through the gates and along a path cleared of rubble. The air still stank a little: no one had been there to clear away the bodies of the dead Cretans, and they had decayed where they fell. An inglorious burial for such an amazing people, Adastros thought.

As they neared the center of the city he saw a series of tents erected in an area cleared of rubble. ‘Here we are, my lord!’ Demetrious announced, unnecessarily. ‘We are only a few meters from the palace site. Would you like to rest a bit first, or go there directly?’

‘Directly, if you please, foreman. A servant comes behind me with my personal effects, so I am unprepared to rest now. Lead on!’ They dismounted their horses and went forward on foot. With Demetrious in the lead, Adastros looked over Pyramus. He had stayed quiet through almost their entire encounter, and maintained a façade of subservience to Demetrious. But Adastros could tell the humility was just that: a façade. He had met many politicians in the years he had worked for the Baltzar dynasty, and Pyramus resembled many of them. True, he had only known the man in for a few hours, and couldn’t be sure. But Adastros never achieved anything in his life by hesitating. ‘I wish to speak to you tonight, Pyramus. Come alone.’

The other man looked at him blankly. Adastros just turned and followed Demetrious.

* * *

Pyramus approached the Lord Adastros’ tent hesitantly. He wasn’t sure what the man wanted from him, but he had an unnerving feeling that it had something to do with Demetrious or the Emperor. And since Pyramus had never met (or even seen) the Emperor once in his life, he guessed it was the former. But Demetrious would do anything that the personal advisor to Emperor Baltzar asked him to. He was a suck-up like that. Whatever his superior wanted was his command. Still . . . His primary interest was archeology, or what counted for archeology in this day-in-age. And he believed that the Knossus dig was mainly about old pots and pans of the Cretans.

Pyramus, however, knew better. The dig was about what drive all men: money. Knossus was one of the richest cities in all of Phoenicia. Mainly due to it’s location on the island, the city and surrounding villages could expand farther than any of the mainland cities could. And the fishing was incredible. Cretan fish, of any variety, from the cold north waters of the island, were considered delicacies.

Yes, money was what it was about. The lord Adastros would ask him to supervise some secret export of all the jewels from the Palace, or some such nonsense. And Pyramus would have to accept, because Demetrious had gotten one thing right: this was the right-hand man of the Emperor, and had complete immunity. If Pyramus even thought about reporting to Demetrious, Adastros could kill him and his master, and sleep well that night too.

With all this in mind, he entered Adastros’ tent. Adastros was sitting at a rickety desk, looking over the plans to the throne room. He stood up when Pyramus entered. ‘I Pyramus! ’ He said. ‘Thank you for coming. Please, sit.’ He pointed to his own chair, and sat himself down on his cot. But as soon as Pyramus seated himself, Adastros stood up again. He paused, then began. ‘Let me be blunt. The moment I saw you I knew what type of person you were. You are a thinker. You have a very good idea of what is going on around you, correct?’ Pyramus stayed silent. ‘You and I both know that your superior is a fool. He thinks only about old things and dead cultures, nothing that has any effect on the present.’ Adastros was pacing around the tent. ‘The real reason I am here. Yes. The throne room.’ Here it comes, thought Pyramus. ‘Have you ever heard of a man named Daedelus?’

Silence. Daedelus? ‘Why do you ask?’ Pyramus’ mind was rushing. Crete. Daedelus. Knossos. Crete. Daedelus. Knossos . . . AHA!

‘I have reason to believe,’ Adastros began, slowly. ‘That the Labyrinth exists.’
Silence. Again. Pyramus looked at the ground, stroking his beard thoughtfully. ‘And I thought you just wanted money,’ he said.

Adastros shook his head. ‘That is the Emperor’s prerogative, sir. Not mine. I serve a higher calling.’

‘You don’t serve the Emperor?’

‘Oh, I serve the Emperor. I ways he recognizes, and some he doesn’t. My loyalty lies with him: he is the one hope this land posses of becoming great, of competing with the more powerful nations. Do you understand our national position, truly?’

‘We share a border with a land populated by . . . Monsters! Few even know what they look like! Some mixture of slugs and insects, I hear. They act as one individual. Imagine an army working in complete unison. If you have been in as many wars as I have you will know what a terrifying idea that is. All around us: strange things. Faeries, wizards, fiends of every description. We need the upper hand in the war that I know will come!’

‘And you think the Labyrinth will provide you with this weapon?’ Pyramus was beginning to understand the Lord Adastros. He was driven by something completely different from most men. Not greed, or self-righteousness, or even fear (despite evidence to the contrary). He was driven by xenophobia. The fear and hatred of strangers. Anything non-human, anything different from what he was, was wrong and evil. He would have lived a good live several hundreds of years ago, when all the nature creatures were driven from the mainland into Germania. All the fauns and centaurs, dryads, naiads and oreads. Everything slightly spiritual or out of the ordinary or supernatural. But after the persecutions persisted, the nymphs and satyrs willfully fled into the uninhabited forests, an have stayed there ever since, mostly forgotten.
Pyramus tore himself away from his own ruminations. ‘What do you want me to do?’

‘Just keep your master occupied,’ Adastros smiled. ‘He can’t stop me, of course, but I don’t want word getting out about what I’m really interested in. It would make my job much harder. And bloodier. So you will help me?’

Pyramus paused. ‘Yes,’ he said

‘This will come back to you, Pyramus. I promise you that. Now get out. I want to sleep.’

Pyramus left the tent, and walked off to think.

* * *

When the door broke in, and the shafts of dusty sunlight penetrated the darkness, the smell of the air told Adastros he had found what he wanted. ‘Give me a torch,’ he said to one of the attendants.

‘Are you sure you wish to descend first, lord?’ Demetrious asked. ‘Send a servant, or one of these remarkable pieces of ingenuity!’ He directed the last comment towards the automaton Adastros brought with him. It was five feet high, and covered in bronze plating. ‘I still don’t understand how it operates! It takes commands, but I don’t see how that can be!’

‘Demetrious!’ Adastros cautioned. ‘Can we focus at the matter at hand?’
‘Oh, yes, of course. I apologize.’

‘The automatons are not agile. They are mainly for manual labor. They are very strong.’

‘If you wish, you may absolutely descend first, my lord.’

‘Thank you.’ Adastros rolled his eyes. ‘May I have a torch?’ An attendant quickly did as he requested. ‘I shall descend. Please continue to clear the surrounding area.’ With that, he stepped through the broken door, and into darkness.

His flames licked the cobwebs and painted bizarre shadows on the brick walls. The ceiling arched over his head. Several paces down the hall turned, and all light from the sun was gone. Adastros began to feel claustrophobia pushing in his lungs, but he ignored the feeling. He followed the tunnel deeper and deeper. When he came to a series of steps, he halted. His torch showed nothing of what lay below. It had been five minutes since he entered the chamber, with no sign of anything. Was it possible that he was going nowhere at all? But the steps . . . Had to lead somewhere. He would not let fear control him. He stepped forward.

The steps kept going down. But the hall was widening the deeper it got. Soon he couldn’t see either walls or the ceiling. He paused to wipe the sweat from his brow. The torch wasn’t shedding enough light. Why? It was burning brightly. But if he didn’t find anything soon, he would have to return to the surface. He felt blindly to his right for the wall. Leaned against it when he found it. He brought his left hand down to his side, unintentionally pressing against a brick. It gave! He started around, held his flame to the brick. It had sunk maybe half an inch into the wall. Quickly, he felt the rest of the wall. Another brick gave to his touch, then several more. When he had pressed ten different bricks in, and paused. What was the purpose of this? Would the cave collapse on him? But for some reason, he pressed against another brick. Then another. CRACK
There were whirrings and clackings. The grinding of gears. Light filled what was revealed to be an enormous cavern. Adastros stared. ‘By Jove . . . I found it!’ But something roared.

* * *

‘Did you hear that?’
‘No. What was it?’

‘It sounded like . . . Screaming.’

‘Screaming?’

‘Yes, fatuus! Screaming!’

‘Demetrious?’

The foreman came towards the two young men, standing where the Lord Adastros had been last seen, at the entrance to the tunnel. ‘What do you need?’ He asked.

‘Hiram says he heard something.’

‘That’s right, sir. I thought I heard screaming,’ Hiram said.

‘From the tunnel?’ Demetrious asked.

‘That’s right, sir.’

‘Hmm . . . ’

‘Wait! There it was again!’ Hiram said.

‘Yes, I definitely heard it that time, too.’

‘Guards!’ Demetrious shouted. They rushed over. ‘Hiram and Adad here say they heard screaming. Please investigate.’ The guards looked at each other, somewhat fearfully. But they were saved, because the screams got louder. Shouts of gods names were now distinguishable among the random noises. Suddenly, the Lord Adastros came tearing out of the tunnel. His face, previously so composed and emotionless was stricken with fear, his eyes wild and dark hair disheveled. Sweat poured down his face. ‘Balor!’ He shouted, completely without composure. ‘Balor save me, what have I done?’

Demetrious seized him by his shoulders. ‘My lord! What was it? Have you been attacked?’ But his question was answered before Adastros could answer. A roar echoed out from the tunnel. The guards stepped back, and lowered the spears. All the workers around the courtyard who hadn’t noticed the disturbance noticed it now. The ferocious noise sounded like three beasts at once. The ground shook, and the wall around the tunnel seemed to throb, as though some creature was trying to break through it. And the entrance collapsed. An enormous lion leaped through the falling stone. Fire spewed from it’s mouth. And it wasn’t a lion. No lion had two heads, a second one protruding from it’s back. Lion’s didn’t have tales with snake heads. Lions didn’t breathe fire.
The Chimera roared again. The guards dropped their spears and fled. Hiram and Adad tried to follow them, but the Chimera was to fast. It’s tail whipped and wrapped around Adad’s throat, jerking him backwards. Hiram shouted and ran to help his friend, but the lion-head flames caught him full on, and he ran away, flaming.

‘By Jove!’ Demetrious shouted. ‘By Jove, Jove, save us! Guards!’ Nothing happened, excepting the Chimera tossing aside Adad’s mangled body. Only he and Adastros remained now. Free of the tunnel’s constricting halls, Adastros seemed to have recovered himself somewhat. He looked around for a weapon, and saw only the broken spears of the cowardly guards. But he did have his ceremonial blade. He withdrew it from it’s sheath. He had to slay the monster! Otherwise it would ravage the whole city! Destroy everything he had worker for!

He looked closely at the Chimera, trying to spot a weakness. But before he could think of anything, it opened it raging maw and shot a spurt of flame towards him. He leaped quickly behind a toppled pillar. I glanced behind him at he monster, and saw it turning to face Demetrious. ‘Demetrious, run!’ he shouted. The foreman didn’t need to be told twice, and turned to flee from the Chimera. Adastros made a silent prayer to his god. And the Chimera followed Demetrious. Adastros closed his eyes, and leapt from his hiding place. Before the serpent-tale could detect him, he swung his sword at it’s neck. It took two swipes to decapitate the snake, and by that time the monster had noticed it was being attacked. It reared over Adastros, who fell over. But he still grasped his sword, and he thrust it upwards, into the chest of the beast as it descended upon him. He had to put all his strength into the thrust, but the dull tip did penetrate into the monster. It howled again, in pain. Adastros rolled quickly away. ‘Stalvart!’ He shouted. The Chimera spun to face him again, and approached slowly, savoring the kill. It’s mouth opened. Adastros saw the fire forming down it’s gullet. He had never thought he would die like this, just after he made the discovery of a lifetime. But he closed his eyes and accepted his fate.

It never came. He looked up, and the monster was lying on it’s side. Further examination showed several thing metallic blade-spikes protruding from it’s back. He stood up, and saw his automaton. It must have heard him cry it’s designation, and come to his rescue. All of his personal automatons were equipped with projectiles, in case of emergencies. It had been a good idea on his part, apparently. ‘Saved by a piece of machinery,’ he muttered.

‘Demetrious! Come out! It’s dead!’ His shout echoed around the courtyard. Demetrious’ head appeared around a doorway.

‘Phoebus above! You killed it! I don’t believe it. Oh, dear gods! What is the world coming to? Where did this come from?’ Demetrious collapsed onto a boulder. Adastros approached him.

‘Are you all right, my friend?’ He was smiling,

‘I’m fine, my lord. Are you?’

‘I think so, now. That was actually fun.’

‘Fun!’ Demetrious looked aghast. ‘That was fun?’

‘Not at the time, but now I find myself strangely invigorated.’

‘Phoebus above!’ Demetrious said again. ‘My poor heart!’

‘I think you should call it a day, friend.’ Adastros was in a very good mood.

‘Yes, indeed. I need some water.’

‘You get yourself some water. I need to send a message to the mainland.’

‘To the Emperor?’

‘Yes, the Emperor. And someone else. I’ll need some reinforcements, if I’m going go back down that tunnel.’

‘Reinforcements? Back down the tunnel?’ Demetrious shook his head. ‘Will there be more of these monsters?’

‘Oh yes,’ said Adastros, grinning. ‘Lot’s more, I’m afraid.’

End Phoenicia One