A Story Created by The Kindred Clan Goblin Army

A few weeks ago a small, yet populated city, was attacked by an army of goblins and hobgoblins. They left nothing but death in their wake. The name of the city was Mutashio of the Kingdom of Marik. Recently the army has threatened numerous cities if the King of Marik doesn't pay a large fee of money to the General of the Goblin army. The General of this army is a half-orc by the name of Lithra. Recently the King of Marik offered Creighton, General of the Dark Rose Army, a generous sum of money to destroy the Goblin Army. Creighton accepted and is currently training his troops to fight and destroy this threat. He is set to march to Marik in 2 weeks time.

Creighton stood at the front of a regiment in his army. He was drilling them for the up and coming war against the Goblin Army. Creighton wasn't in the least bit worried, for it wasn't in Creighton's nature to be worried. Some would say he was overly cocky but he wouldn't listen. Right now all he wanted was to get his army trained and ready to go. He had 2 weeks to destroy his enemy and it'd been awhile since his troops have trained for war. He pushed them hard every day with basic drills. He made sure they kept formation and discipline. He watched everyone and made helpful suggestions to anyone when he saw fit to. He didn't overly like the idea of charging into war with this Goblin Army. He had sent 4 spies out 2 of which hadn't returned and so he assumed were dead. The 2 that had made it back told him the same thing.
"This is an army of goblin armies, non-trained but vicious and wanting the fight."
Or had said his spies. He trusted each of his men and believed them more then some said he should. Creighton now thought of his own training and sent his servant out to get his sparring partners. Soon enough 5 men should up with wooden swords and padded armour on. Creighton himself grabbed 2 wooden swords and put on some armour. He trained for 4 hours by which time he was beginning to become tired and his sparring partners were beginning to become bruised. He sent them away and thought of something that had been troubling him since he accepted this mission. A mission ago all his captains had died when his camp had been raided. Creighton alone made it out with tiresome effort and the help of many of his men. He needed men to replace his captain but who?

It is afternoon, and everybody in the camp is eating dinner.

Ray is sneaking unnoticed around in the camp, trying to find the General's tent. Eventually, she spots it, but find it guarded by two nasty-looking guards.

This time, her visit is one of a friendly kind, and the guards survive.

She leaves the shadows and approaches the guards, saying: ''I bring news from the goblin-camp, let me pass!''

The guards first refuse, their General having dinner with his other officers.

Ray promptly drops a goblin head, previously hidden in her cloak, and the guards finally sense that this is serious.

She enters the tent and finds General Creighton and his officers discussing new strategies.

She demands attention by whistling loudly, enjoying the surprised looks she gets, when they realize that she's here.

Before anyone says anything, she starts talking:

''Hello Creighton. I hear you are in need of qualified spies.''

She dumps the belts from those two spies who didn't return.

''That was all I managed to retrieve from them. Now, when I got your full attention, I have an offer to make. I had a good... Friend in Mustashio, and I lost a good source of information now that he's dead. I hear you are a man of Power, and being the one you are, you seem to be the right person to avenge my friend. Therefore, I offer my aid to you. ... For a price of course.''

She looks around suspiciously.

''But we can't talk here, too many ears. Do you know about the waterfall just 12 miles north from here?''

The General nods.

''Good. Meet me at the top of it tomorrow, same time as now. Bring more than two guards, and our deal is over. Good evening gentlemen.''

She bows swiftly, and leaves again, this time though, she doesn’t bother hiding, and as she leaves the camp, she smiles at the gate-guards confusion when she suddenly walk past them. They never saw her enter.

And hour later, she reaches the waterfalls. She finds a small cave, makes sure that nobody has been there since her last visit, and goes to rest after disguising the cave-entrance with wooden sticks and leaves.

Creighton sits there after this woman’s intrusion. He sends one of the officers out to deal with his guards. Needless to say they'll do better next time.... He finishes dinner and demands everyone leave him. He goes and lays in bed and thinks about lots of things. He will go in the morning to this Waterfall and await her arrival...

Creighton wakes up late the next morning and commands his men to drill for 5 hours straight. He gets dressed and hangs his 2 swords in their hilts at his side; he grabs his bow and a quiver of 30 arrows. He leaves camp with no one with him or following him. He starts out hoping to get into a fight with something as he goes but as his army is only 12 miles from his destination chances look slim.

"Blast it...First I get myself into this mess.... Then I have to complete it...And now some weird lady shows up demanding I meet here."

Creighton sets into grinning as he walks... He knows the test she has to face to be one of his elite spies.... She will not find it overly easy... Creighton bursts into open laughter. He will enjoy this.

Creighton arrives at the waterfall about an hour early.... He sets out some things and decided he'll sleep until the woman arrives. Soon though he finds he can't rest and decides to just sit there and prepare food for when the woman arrives just in case she is hungry.

He goes out with his bow and 1 arrow and tracks a deer. He follows it for about 10 minutes before shooting it. He cuts the fur off and takes some of the meat. He goes back and cooks some and lies the fur out for drying.

Creighton is growing tiresome of waiting but as he wants to see what is in store he will wait...

The smell of roasted deer confuses Ray as she returns to the Waterfalls.

She goes in the direction of the smell, while hiding in the bushes.

She reaches the waterfall and sees General Creighton sitting and cooking the meat.

She circles around him, still hiding in the bushes.

She sneaks up on him from behind, and General Creighton suddenly finds a knife on his throat.

''I don't trust you.'' Ray whispers in his ear. ''Tell your men to reveal themselves. Now!

Oh, and I don't think you REALLY want to draw that sword.''

She smirks and waits for his reply.

The late afternoon breeze was stirring the first fallen leaves of autumn, and the slight chill was refreshing to Shivan as he walked over the barely-trodden track leading down to Marik. The distant rush of a waterfall could be heard in the distance, and landscape was rocky, offering many small caves. This was much better than a night on the fields, and it was only an hour or two until sunset. Just a few more minutes walk, and he would find somewhere to make a fire.

A suitable cave half a mile from the waterfall presented itself. No one had been here in a while, and Shivan began to collect dry twigs and branches from the surroundings. As he bent to pick up a small oak branch, his sharp eyes picked up two figures, a hundred or more metres down the hill, near the waterfall itself. One appeared to be threatening the other, and Shivan thought he could see the silver glint of steel in a hand. The figure had short hair, but was almost certainly female.

It was best not to intrude. Shivan was unarmed, and was tired after the day's hike across the hilly, craggy border. He went back to collecting wood, but after a few minutes, curiosity got the better of him. Without lighting the pile, he lay down quietly, almost invisible to the two figures below, and raised his head slightly to observe.

Creighton found himself with a knife to his throat. He kind of liked the situation to tell the truth. No one had been this close to him in a great many years. He let out a laugh.

"Listen my girl. Do you really think this is wise?"

He doesn't really wait for an answer before throwing all his weight backwards and in one single movement faster then the eye could see his sword was in front of his neck and had intercepted the girl’s blade.

"Now, that that's over I wish to tell you that I have no men with me."

If she didn't believe him he really didn't care. He thought he had seen a little glimpse of something out in the wilderness. Well maybe it was his imagination for it had completely disappeared now! Oh well he thought, back to the current situation. He performed a routine technique to knock the ladies knife away from him. He whirled and kicked out at her lower leg. He put his sword out to her neck but then sheathed it.

"We came to talk if you remember now shall we?"

Humming softly, the elven woman made her way along a rather worn path, her staff keeping time with her steps. The peaked hat she wore seemed to bob along with that, and the slight breeze caused her black robes to shimmer slightly -- making her look all the more unusual. A bag was flung over the woman's shoulder, tied to the staff, which seemed to be bursting with all sorts of magickal goods. A hatchet, longbow, and quiver with only a few arrows were tied to her back. As the woman approached the camp she slowed her pace, lifting the rim of her hat slightly to survey the scene.

"Ah," She said, quietly, "as per the norm, I get hired to an Army. I pray they do not need a Battlemage -- for I be too humble for that job." Laughing lightly, the woman picked up her pace again.

Guards stopped her at what could be considered the entrance, and demanded for her to halt.

"Aye, lads, calm yourselves!" She cried, waving her staff slightly. The men, confused a bit by this, held up their swords - just in case.

"I be a humble Mage, lads. Called in by your leader, for every army requires a medic, do they not?"

The guards had learned from the last time, and asked her to await his return. Sitting down on a nearby rock, the woman muttered,

"Alright, then, lads. Lady Drakengarde at yer service, when ye need it, I'll be sitting right here."

Glod watched cautiously as the wise-woman entered the mess tent. Ah well, at least she won't be any trouble he thought. As she sat down at the table with the routine bread and mead, he saw a drunken lout gesture point at her and laugh with his equally drunken friends. He drained his tankard and the lot of them swaggered towards her, weaving as they walked. "Heya sweet’ art" he drawled, reaching for her bread as he did so. Here we go thought Glod glumly. As he pulled himself to his feet, ready to intervene, he was surprised as, with a sharp cracking noise the sodden lad was rapped across the knuckles, and then caught a blow to his shins from the backhand blow. "This food doeth belong to you not!" she said, and Glod recognised the old tongue. Oh great, he thought. A sorceress, just what I needed. The woman then turned her back on the louts, and for a moment it looked like they'd be violent, but they turned and slouched back to their table, scowling and swearing.

Shivan squinted at the two combatants below. They had separated, and could be more clearly seen now. One was a human, the other a drow; neither seemed to have the upper hand. After a few exchanges of words, Shivan reminded himself that this was not his business, and returned to the pile of sticks and twigs. The breeze would make it far too difficult to light a fire conventionally, so he bent down over the fire and began to mutter a few words under his breath. Shivan was an inept mage, and he had no runes, and it was therefore at least ten minutes before the first tiny spark jumped from his finger onto the logs. He began to sweat slightly with the effort, and, not for the first time, cursed that he had left his tinderbox in a town he visited over three weeks ago. It was several minutes more before the next few small sparks appeared, and sweat was visibly streaming off his forehead as he tried to concentrate.

Finally, a tiny flame appeared on the end of his finger, and he immediately sheltered it from the wind. He lowered it to the wood, and, using himself as a wind-block, he began to light the logs. Thankfully, it worked first time. Fortune, it seemed, was still smiling down on him. Tired now, he waited for the fire to catch on to the rest of the logs, before moving back to his small knoll, where he crouched down to see the figures below. It was much darker now, though, but Shivan could still hear the heated exchanges of the drow and the young girl.

Suddenly, he realised something. He cursed his foolishness and went back to the now-merrily burning fire, which was illuminating the surrounding area like a beacon. It was no use trying to pretend he wasn't there now. He sat down next to the burning wood and tried to get comfortable. Sooner or later they were going to see the fire, but Shivan was strongly against the idea of putting it out, after the effort spent in the first place. Besides, he had no qualm with them. It wasn't as if it was a crime to build a fire in the middle of the countryside

Drakengarde was growing restless. She used her staff to help her get back to her feet, and dusted off her robes. She flashed a sort of glare at the guards, as she paced back and forth. Soon, the young woman paused, to scratch some runic symbols in the dirt - the symbols for protection and comfort. With a slight grin, the elven woman sat down to meditate upon these symbols. Her breathing slowed to a barely noticeable rate, eyes closed, and she sat, silent... she seemed unaware.

Ray lay there, shocked. Impressed of his disarming techniques.

She quickly rose up and nodded.

''Aye, I see skills of a daring warrior there. My compliments to you.''

She picked up her dagger from where it had landed.

Creighton watched while she did so, and said: ''I came here to discuss our deal, not to play games. Speak forth!''

Ray looked at him and nodded again.

''Right. As I said, I have an offer. I know that you have been sent out on a mission to eradicate that goblin army.''

Creighton impatiently crossed his arms.

''Tell me something I don't know.''

Ray sneered at him.

''Relax! This deal will benefit both of us. At least be patient!''

She continued: ''I offer my aid to you, as a spy. I can infiltrate the goblin army. They got a lot of human slaves, they won’t notice if there's another one. When I'm inside, I'll be able to sabotage them, if lucky, and find out their plans for their next move. Once a week, I will come back at our meeting point and hand over the information I've collected. How does that sound?''

Creighton smiled slyly. This would prove good indeed, and if she was to fail and get killed, he wouldn't lose anything.

''Sounds fine with me. But you still haven't said what you want in return. Wait! Let me guess, you want gold, right?''

Ray smirked.

''This one's on me.''

Creighton lifted an eyebrow.

''Oh, really? That doesn't make sense, strangely enough. How can I know you're not going to cross o-...''

He suddenly noticed Ray looking at something behind him. Not wanting to let anything surprise him, he spun around and looked.

'Nothing. Wait, is that a fire up there...?' he thought.

He turned around again, only to see Ray disappearing behind the nearest trees.

''Meet me here in a week!'' She yelled back as she ran away.

Creighton cursed under his breath. Someday he'll teach that girl not to play tricks on him.

He then remembered the fire he had seen, and quickly took cower behind a large rock.

After a while, without sensing any danger from the direction of the fire, he began walking home, thinking on the conversation. 'Ohh, yes. I'll get her for that!' he thought to himself.

After the ladies departing he began to think... She never even told me her name.... Ah well.... Now about that man near the fire... He set off walking. When out of view of where the fire was he ran, darting in and out between trees and bushes. Eventually he was close to the fire and could tell this man was no mere traveller. He watched the man for a few minutes. Creighton thought maybe this man will want into my army.... Creighton strode right into the camp and said. "Hey stranger, wish to here a proposition?"

Shivan had been idly watching the drow approach him. The man had a vague grasp of stealth, but his movements were not difficult to follow. For the sake of amusement, he acted almost surprised when he strode into view.

Shivan squinted, an old habit of his.

"What proposition would that be, neighbour? You are indeed a strange sort to wander around these parts at twilight seeking errand-goers."

He stoked the fire, if only for an excuse to appear busy. "Please sit. My hospitality will leave much to be desired, but I was not expecting guests." With that, the white-haired man took out his small knife and began to carve a few slices from some dried goat-meat he was carrying in the recesses of his clothing. Carefully, he began to cook the meat on the fire.

He glanced up at the drow, who was watching in silence.

"So," continued the young man. "I believe there was something that you wished to ask of me."

Creighton watched this man. He was surprised that this man did not fear or hate his Drow heritage... Must have heard of me Creighton decided. Anyways on to more important business.

"Well friend, I run an Army that is camped near here about 8 miles that way." Creighton points east.

"Anyways I was just wondering if you had interest in joining and maybe taking a Commanding position? See my other commanders mainly all died awhile back and I'm looking for new ones. You seem to have skill to have not of shown yourself for awhile so I'll ask you."

Creighton turns around. He stares east towards his camp already he misses he's friends and companions. He decides to lead this man there no matter what. In a movement as quick as lightning he throws a potion at the man's face. As the man faints Creighton picks him up and halls him off towards camp.

Upon arrival Creighton sees a magic user at front. He checks her over and decides she must be here to join up.

"You there follow me! If your here to join that is! Men open gate!"

He walks in and goes into a tent and lies his passenger down....

There was pain.

Shivan's eyes refused to focus, and he rubbed them to shake off the mildly stinging liquid. The sharp pain still jabbed strongly at his face, but this eventually began to subside. Pain was replaced by confusion. Confusion became realisation, and realisation led to fury. As far as Shivan was concerned, these emotions could take their path unhindered. He swung himself out of his crude bed that he had been left in, clenched his fists and tried to focus his sight.

Rage… rage was no good here. He tried to calm down, anger filling his veins. Such dishonour. Such cowardice. Such humiliation, to wake up in this - tent? Shack? The place resembled a slum. That drow. He had to be around somewhere. He stumbled over to a well in the floor, pulled out a bucket and washed his face, then checked his belongings. Nothing was taken. Coins, knife, bolts... all here. Drawing his knife, he left the rudely-made structure and was accosted by a guard.

"I have no time for such frivolities," snarled Shivan. With his right hand, he made a feint with his knife; with his left, a sudden punch to the stomach.

What was this? From the words of that drow, this was a military encampment. Such a place meant weapons, and from Shivan's Guard experience, he thought he could spot the archers' tent, around forty metres away. Making no attempt to conceal himself, he entered the tent and took a medium-sized crossbow off the wall. The mechanisms were oiled, the string was of a fine quality, the...

"Hey! What the hell are you doing?"

But of course. There would be others. Shivan flicked a single bolt from his bag, deftly caught it and slotted it into the crossbow. He pulled the handle backwards and there was a satisfying click as the metal wall adornment became a lethal weapon once more. He pointed it at the indignant archer.

"I'm stealing a bow, netaii," Shivan spat. "What does it look like I'm doing?"

With that, he swiftly grabbed some steel-tipped bolts from a box nearby, turned, and left the room.

That was foolish, of course. Those were archers, and charisma only gets you a certain distance. Still, it was far enough.

There was no time to steal provisions, or equipment. It was time to leave. At once.

The insolent drow could wait. Shivan was excellent at holding grudges, and the time would come when the deed would be repaid. With these thoughts, he fired with malicious accuracy a single bolt into the top of the nearby watchtower, towards a face he had seen a few minutes before. A horrified cry told him grimly that Fortune still held Shivan very close to her heart.

With the guard otherwise engaged, Shivan scrambled up the railing, not for the first time thanking his military training, vaulted its edge, dropped, rolled, and disappeared into the forest.

Keistera Drakengarde was stirred from her meditation by a strong presence, and proceeded to look up. She had awakened in time to hear a man tell her to follow him, so she got to her feet, stretched slightly, and leaned against her staff to gaze at the fellow for a moment. "Aye-aye, sir," She muttered, giving a faint salute. The elven woman was weary from her travels, and the incomplete meditation; she followed the Drow, not really taking notice of what he was, for it didn't matter. All that mattered at that moment was that she was being allowed in.

"I am a Wisewoman, apparently, sir," Drakengarde said, keeping fair stride behind Creighton. "The name is Keistera Drakengarde. My main occupation is healer, although I can crack a few skulls with this staff of mine --" She paused a moment to hold it up, oblivious to the fact that nobody really payed attention to the thing. "Magic 'appens to be my main feat. If ye have any use of a 'Caster." The elven woman stopped just outside the tent.

The guards passed, without spotting the person hiding behind the barrels. Ray had been spying in the goblin-army camp for two days now, and it was time to get out.

With the guards out of sight, she sneaked towards the gate, carefully avoiding the eyes of the guards around her.

The gate was made by wood and was guarded by two watchtowers, each with one guard in it, and two guards to open/close the gate itself. 'This wont be easy.' Ray thought.

Climbing the gate was not an option, seeing as it was well over 2 meters tall, heavily guarded, and on the middle of the day.

She observes the guards from her hiding place for a while, in hope of finding a weakness or two.

An hour passed. Then two. Still no sign of a tired guard, or anything which would give her a chance to get out.

She finally decided to save her luck for another day, and went back to the slaves department. They had already been hiding her for two days now, and she was sure that she could hide there until the afternoon too.

She managed to make it back, with a few detours to avoid going the same way twice.

Back in safety, she sighed and decided to rest a bit. Nilande, one of the slave-elders, had promised to wake her up when it was time to leave. In turn, she promised to get them some food later on.

She soon fell asleep.

Creighton walked into the food tent with the young Elf trailing behind him. There he saw a Dwarf. Well, I guess today is just my day for getting recruits thought Creighton. He signals for the Elf to follow him to the Dwarf and goes to sit near him.

"Hail Master Dwarf and Lady Elf! My name is Creighton and I lead this Army. If you guys are looking for a job then I do indeed have some openings. Lady Elf, I could use a good wizard and healer in the back lines when we are at war and I think you would fill the spot nicely."

He looks at the Dwarf.

"Master Dwarf, if you wish to lead our axe brigade of maybe 100 men then you look like one capable of doing so. If not you could always be one of the Axe Men."

Creighton doesn't wait for them to respond before going back to what would be polite protocol.

"Oh by the way.... What’s your guys and ladies name's?"

Creighton waits in response.

Running out of breath with the exertion, Shivan pulled himself up to the top of the forested hill, where there was a clearing. In here was a small spring in the ground, leading into a tiny stream. For the first time in a few days, he looked into his reflection. There were over 20 nasty cuts and scratches on his face alone, but it seems that someone had at least removed the shards of glass. With renewed pain, he rolled over on the grass.

"Such diplomacy", he muttered sardonically, thinking idly of the dark-skinned drow who had become the object of his hate. With that, he traced out a simple circle in the ground, and began a short prayer to Guthix, and to Fortune, the unnamed goddess whose debt he was so fully in.

When completed, he began to think, long and deep. Scars. Shivan hated scars, and he had been so pockmarked by the attack... but such healing white magic was beyond his tiny range of spells. War. An army encampment, readying for some event. Treachery - ah, yes, that one was firm on his mind. That fool... would pay.

He drank from the spring, washed his battered face, retreated back into the forest, leaned against a tree and began to get some needed rest.

Drakengarde bowed low. "The name is Keistera Drakengarde," She said. "Seeing as y' are my commander, and the majority of the commanders I have had do so, it may be yer preference to call me by my last name."

The woman grinned. "I would be happy to do as ye ask of me."

Then, quickly, she turns and bows to the Dwarf.

Creighton was happy to see that the magic-user did as he asked. He turned and scanned her over. He could not say she was built for war but then most magicians weren't. He turned and started to explain her job as the Dwarf though this over.

"Ok Drake, your job as one of my only mages you will be in the back of the battle. I will dispose myself and 4 other warriors to keep you safe while you cast your magick."

He thought it over pretty good.

"Well, it'll be dangerous for you. The archers will go after you when the magick comes from you. You'll have to keep a low profile until I tell you."

He pats yer on the back and says, "Welcome to the Dark Rose Army Head-Mage Drake."

He turns to the Dwarf and awaits his response.

After listening to the flowing formalities given and received by the commander and the elf, Glod thought of the most elaborate entry he could.

"M' names Glod."

They both looked at him, as if waiting for more.

"And... I like beer"

Still watching him, the others' faces had turned to grimaces.

"And," he said, picking up his huge double-headed axe from where it lay on the floor, "this is my axe. And I can use it. Well."

Glancing at their faces, he noticed the smile that crept onto Creighton's face, and the obvious disdain that the magic-user had for such a crude weapon.

Creighton is kind of shocked by the Dwarves lack of intelligence... Every Dwarf he had met, which was a grand total of 3, had been with supreme intelligence.... Oh well, this one might not even be in the hundreds yet. Anyways on to more important things.

"Both of you follow me"

He leads the Mage to the mage tent were 10 other mages were. Then he led Glod to the axe camp.

He left them both and went back to his tent and went to sleep after a long hard days work.

The quiet squeak of a bat above him woke Shivan up. In truth, he hadn't meant to sleep this long, but it had certainly done him good. The smell of roast deer from the encampment at the bottom of the hill stirred his senses, and he got to his feet. He could just go back to the camp and steal food, of course, but he had stole enough for one day. Thieving wasn't naturally in his character. Instead, he headed down the other side of the hill, through the dark forest, keeping his bearings as to where he was heading.

After ten minutes, the trees abruptly finished, and the plains stretched out before him, illuminated by the gentle splashes of moonlight. He rubbed some life back into his legs and set off towards the faint lights of a small village a few miles away.

Shivan no longer asked himself "Why am I journeying?". The answer was to see the world, to discover its sights, and its people. Soon he would be back doing that again, yet the memory of the events today still tugged at his mind.

Vengeance was inevitable.

As Creighton left him in the forest near the Axeman's camp, Glod grimaced as he saw the "welcoming committee". Three large young men with scowls on their faces were coming towards him. Here we go again he thought to himself.

Now a few metres away from him, the one that looked like the leader spoke.

"Oi, stunty, we don't need no arm rests here" he said, nudging his cronies into a forced laughter.

That's it? Thought Glod. That's all they can come up with? He grimaced again.

Mistaking his expression for anger, the first one laughed. "What's wrong dwarf? Did your mummy forget to pack your gravel? Bet she can't even find the right cat pee! Haha!"

Slowly Glod's face grew red, with his pained concentration on his words.

"Leave... my... scrintzul... out of this!" he bellowed as he dropped his pack, finding that his axes would just hinder him in the dense woods.

Screaming his ancient battle cry, Glod launched himself in a feint at the leader, turning at the last moment to kick the legs out from under one of the others with his steel capped boots. There was a sickening crunch as he brought his head up into the face of the other, and then embraced the leader in an enormous bear-hug before dropping to the ground on top of him, bringing his gigantic weight to bear.

"Stupid try-hards" he muttered under his breath as he picked up his pack and walked towards the camp.

Creighton awoke to several complaints that the Dwarf had attacked his men after the routine make fun of the new guy stunts. Creighton figured he would have to have more disipline from his new recruits and well today he would teach the Dwarf that they'd been there longer and in such had the right. He coated himself with black not-to-baggy jeans and a black short-sleeve shirt. Over that he put on a chain mail and over that a leather surcoat. all in all he felt quite comfortable and still had a massive amount of flexibilty in his ensemble. He put on his sword belt and walked toward the axe tent. He see's the dwarf there with his axe ou only being about 3 or 4 minutes after the Dwarves attack on the soldiers.

"Glod, sorry bout this but it has to happen. If you can lay yer axe on me you won't be put to shame and the fight will be over but that's never happened before and I don't plan on letting it."

Creighton drew his two swords out from the scabbards. He charged the Dwarf man before he even considered his move. Since the Dwarf was short he'd keep going for the head shots until the Dwarf was tired to continue. He shot one leg out at the Dwarf coming up in a round about move he spun both swords at the Dwarves neck...

The twin blades glanced off glod's bullet-head helm, making a gonging noise, as his huge war axe whistled through open air where a second before had been Creighton's torso. So he's fast admitted the dwarf to himself too fast for this big thing, anyway. Dropping his twohanded axe to the ground Glod quickly drew hist twin axes. Much better he thought, as he advanced towards the drow. "Filthy raiders!" he muttered, as he closed with the formidable scruklnor style, swinging both axes in a scissor ark and then bringing his large bulk to bear, crushing down towards creightons blades and using his armour to knock them away from his attack.

KANDARMSKAAAAA!!!!

Ray watches the fight from the shadows in a nearby tent.

'So, that is how he welcomes his new recruits.' she thinks.

She summons two paper rolls from her cloak and leaves them on the ground. Eventually, they'll end up in Creighton’s hands.

She sneaks out of the camp from where she came, the unconscious guard still lying hidden behind a tent.

As she walks through the forest, she promises herself to stay away from that type of people again

Shivan had come about half a mile, and, happening to glance back, he thought that he saw the slightest hint of a touch of movement from the forest he had came from. Of course, the only light was the three-quarter moon dappling the landscape, so there was no way to be sure, but...

...interesting. It seemed that he could well be being followed, which of course made sense. He wasn't exactly popular at the camp: but no would-be stalker would possibly follow at this time of night. He waited with interest. Finally, after several minutes, he saw someone enter the full moonlit area. Impressive. Whoever it was almost completely invisible, and he could only make them out by their slightly pale brown face.

No sense in leaving a potential enemy behind you. Shivan sat down, clearly visible, and waited for the figure to get closer.

Drakengarde slowly entered the tent, keeping her hat low over her face. The only thing obvious about her at that moment happened to be her pointed ears, which were covered by neither her hat nor her hair. The other mages shifted slightly to look at the newcomer.

"Who goes there?" An older male asked, and Keistera looked up. She was met with the friendly face of a man of approximately fifty years of age, unshaven, wearing black robes. He sat with a carving knife and a block of Yew wood in his hand.

"Keistera Drakengarde," She stated, professionally. The man smiled warmly, setting the knife down and extending his hand to her.

"Pleased to meet you," He replied. "I am known around here as 'Elder Angus'. Just call me Angus." The fellow looked her over. "Are you the new head mage?"

"Aye," Keistera said, slowly. At this, the other mages looked up. They seemed surprised that an outsider, let alone one of mainly elven blood, would be placed in such a position so early. Angus was not surprised.

"You won't hold up well in the line of fire, you know, not if you're anything like the last one. He panicked."

With a slight nod, Drakengarde said, "Indeed. 'Tis why I was raised around such things -- I know that being fearful puts ye where they want." She paused for a moment, pondering. "I never expected that I would be placed in a combat position, but, then again..." She shrugged.

Angus laughed. "None of us know what's going to happen, day-to-day... believe me," he pulled his robes aside at his shoulder, slightly, to show a gruesome scar. Even Drakengarde flinched. "Sometimes, you get caught off guard." He finished, and went back to his carving -- it seemed to be an animal totem of some sort.

One of the other mages raised his head to stare at Keistera, steadily. A smirk slowly crossed his face.

"Pointy ears. Just what we need. Being in the forest makes you soft kid. You'll see."

Keistera drew her eyes in his direction, looking to the youthful, yet smug, face. The young fellow was a human, and although he was probably an adept mage, his overconfidence bothered her. Without a word, the young elven woman pulled up a free chair near Angus, took out her herbs, pestle and mortar, and some small glass containers -- and got to work on some of her medicines.

I wish I had not come here, she thought. This doesn't seem right.

His target, a badly beaten up human seemed to be aware of his presence and was awaiting confrontation but his craving for meat could no longer wait, he picked up speed, determined and persistent to kill his game.

Something hit him and Jaiyon ceased his trek.

Why is the fool stopping? Why isn't he running away? Does the person know not who i am?"

These thoughts raced through his mind and then he realised that his prey's back was facing the sun.

"Ah, no wonder!"

Satisfied with his answer and grinning zealously, Jaiyon plodded on towards the easy kill

There was a rhythmic pounding that woke Shivan up. It seemed he had slept throughout the night, and it was now early morning. The morning sun was still bright, and it shone brightly through the cloudless sky. The source of the pounding noise was an eight foot tall being, heading towards him with a fixated grin on his face.

Shivan got up, but not without a fair degree of curiosity mixed with apprehension. You just didn't get fire giants in the kingdom of Marik. In fact, you didn't get them anywhere in the civilised world. Well, if this one wanted food, he was going to find it not worth his while. Shivan, making no effort to conceal his movement, slotted a single steel bolt into his crossbow, pulled back the handle and waited for the click as the string went taut and the bolt became loaded. He then pointed it idly at the giant's head, which was now only twenty metres away. Even the newest of recruits at the Northern Guard could hit something from twenty metres, even if more by luck than judgement. It didn't matter how thick someone's skull was either. A bolt at this range would mean one less fire giant to worry about.

"Stop." Shivan said, clearly and audibly.

Jaiyon, amazed at the speed and alacrity of the human target stopped as he was commanded. Staring in his line of sight was a loaded crossbow ready to fire at the flick of his target turned hunter's deft hands.

To his knowledge, a crossbow fired at the short distance of 20 metres would mean instant death to him. He decided to play his target and entwine him around his fingers.

"Whoa mister, I don't mean any harm to ya"

"Well, it doesn't look that way to me"

Shivan apprehensively looked at the behemoth.

" First off, let me explain my presence. I am here on a quest. My fire giant clan was attacked by a group of Mawoj leaving in its wake my dead father. I am here to avenge his death" said Jaiyon who was blatantly lying.

Curious, Shivan asked, "Wait wait wait, what the heck is a Mawoj?"

"The Mawoj is a relatively new race. They are a hybrid of Orc and Ogre. I am travelling to their underground motherland in the kingdom of Marik to destroy the infidel that killed my father"

Well, Creighton thought to himself, this Dwarf knows how to fight I'll give him that. Creighton decided he'll end this fight. He dodges the Dwarfs attack making the Dwarf go off balance.

"Master Dwarf, I commend your fighting skills. I really must end this little fight though since you have proven to be a good and worthy axeman. I will know and forever let you treat my men like dirt, well at least the axeman who you can beat."

Creighton smiles and shows some of his un-Drow charm. He puts away his sword and pats that Dwarf on the back.

"Well, I must be off." Creighton strolls off in the direction were he saw the girl come and go. He found her scrolls and picked them up. He gave them to his guards and told them to put them on his bed. He ran off after the girl hoping to catch her and question her about a few more things....

Shivan's brow furrowed. Avenging the death of his father. Something about that, coming from a large red-glowing humanoid didn't ring true.

Not that it mattered. Shivan clicked the tiny metal piece holding the crossbow string taut and the bolt slid off the bow before landing a metre away from Shivan. He stooped to pick it up, then tried to look calm and businesslike at the enormous being. He suppressed a small shudder.

"An honourable cause indeed. Very well," Shivan replied, trying not to look directly at the face. "I mean you no threat and I'm sure such an honourable" ..Shivan paused for the slightest second.. "warrior like yourself means none to me. If you'll excuse me, I may just have overslept a little, and I have to be going."

Shivan took a step towards the village, and his honed danger-sense screamed about the danger of turning his back to this giant. He began to curve to the side, so as to still have a good view of his conversant. Just to be safer, he added:

"And I wish you the best of luck in your quest." Again, his senses protested against the validity of the giant's words, but to confront him now would be an invitation to a fight that would kill stronger men than himself.

Better to try and play along with the game and to get as much distance as he could from him. This plan, however, proved unsuccessful, and the giant's rumbling voice began again.

Jaiyon was so very tempted to unleash a barrage of Fire Bolts upon his enemy but he restrained himself and decided to forge a friendship with this stranger.

"Where are you headed mister? Shall we be companions on this arduous journey in this uncivilised region of Marik?

Shivan paused and proceeded to reply to his 'kind' invitation.

Having not been able to find the girl Creighton walked back to the camp. Walking through the woods he heard a few noises and stumbled upon no other then the man who had disappeared from his camp. He watched for awhile as he was interested in the Fire Giant. He lost interest though and started to walk away. It was only a few days before his troops were scheduled to fight the Goblin Army so he thought time to start marching. Once he arrived he called on the mage Kei and the axe man Glod. He awaits them while doing some arrangements with the other leaders. He ordered on some food and had some places set for his visitors-to-be. He hoped this campaign would go better then the last....

Upon receiving word that Creighton requested her presence, she quickly changed into a new set of black robes, and went to meet with him. As she stepped out, Angus placed a hand upon her arm.

"If I were you, m'Lady, I'd keep a low profile -- even among the leaders."

She nodded, taking in this bit of advice, and left. She approached his tent, stood in the entrance, saluting her superior... and awaited the permission to enter.

Creighton looked up in time to see Kei salute.

"No need for that round here Kei, if I may call you that. When you see me just act as if I' one of the guys...or girls... Please please come on in and have a seat."

Creighton pulled out a cushioned chair for Kei.

"Now we just must await Glod, I have special missions for you two; which you can decline of course. Care for a drink?"

Jaiyon's instinct told him someone or something was watching him but he could not pinpoint where exactly.

"Gotta keep a low profile now, gotta find my meaning in life. That’s not going to be prison" as Jaiyon thought deeply...

Glod thundered up to the general's tent, giving the guards a look that left them with their mouths open. "Wanted ta see me, grajvelt?" he said as Creighton turned towards him.

Creighton turned to see the Dwarf Glod marching to him using a Dwarven word he didn't recognize. Gotta learn Dwarf one of these days he thought.

"Hail Glod! Glad to see you here and so prompt! Please please have a seat."

He pulled out another cusioned chair. Then he took his own seat.

"I have something to tell you guys...."

Keistera happily took her place. "You may call me Kei, if you wish," She said, with a slight grin. "No drink for me, either... I'm hoping we may just get down to business." She tilted her head slightly, as she watched Creighton. She gave a slight wave to acknowledge Glod's presence.

Creighton watched the two take their seats. He waited until they were all settled in and began to explain what the mission was.

"Well, we have a slight problem... The leader of the Goblins seems to be an excellent collector and strategist. My strategy while good can do nothing against his. His numbers exceed ours about 5 to 1. Though if we can kill their leader it might give us an edge over them seeing how only he was able to bring them together."

Creighton stood up and started pacing around the room.

"What I want to do is send in a 3-warrior group and kill the leader. After that it'll begins the real job we'll have to fight our way out. If you two wish not to accept then I won't hold it against you...."

Glod sat there, silent, processing what the grajvelt had just said.

"We... kill goblins?" he asked. His brow furrowed with the effort.

Grinning as she stroked her chin, thoughtfully, Keistera said, "So, you're willing to take a couple of new recruits along on a very important mission, are ye?" She pulled the brim of her hat down over her face. "If ye really trust us, Creighton sir... well, I'll come along, at least." She looked to Glod.

"Aye, us... kill goblins... what we were hired to do!" A pause, she awaited the outcome of this...

Shivan stopped, and turned round.

"Your offer is good, but there are many things that I myself must accomplish. I am sorry. I believe there is a military encampment over that hill behind you, and judging from the beings from which you speak, the people in that camp would be pleased to help you, for they too hunt such similar creatures." If only from fear, Shivan added mentally.

He was quite pleased with this idea. There were almost certainly none of these hybrid creatures - if they existed at all, which he doubted - in the land of he goblins, but as excuses go, it was rather a good one.

"Again, good luck, friend. I am sure we'll meet again."

You're not hard to spot, put it that way, his thoughts added again.

With that Shivan turned back around and headed towards the waking village.

As Ray entered the clearing in the forest, she immediately spotted the figure in sitting in the middle of the clearing. With the back turned against Ray.

''That idiot never learns to watch his accursed back!'' She thought.

This part of the forest was known for being a very dark place, and dangerous creatures lurked around here.

She summoned a dagger from her suit, and snuck towards the figure.

''Something isn't right here...'' she thought to herself. ''Why isn't he moving?''

As she got closer, she noticed something: Some leaves were lying around the figure, whilst pines made this part of the forest.

Now alert, she reacted quickly, and threw herself at the ground when she heard the well-known sound of a blade flying through the air.

The throwing knife flew over her head and hit the figure.

She quickly rolled away, kneeled and threw her dagger back in the way the other knife had come from.

She heard the knife hit a tree. She unsheathed another dagger and waited for the stalkers next move.

Then a man stepped forth, 2 meters left from where the knife had come from.

She prepared to defend herself, but then she saw who the man was.

By the nine hells, Alarik! Did you have to do that?! She cried out.

The other man, silently laughing for himself, bowed.

Yes. Yes, I had to do that, Ray. And I see you haven't let my teachings be waste. He replied.

He took the dagger from the tree where it had landed, and Ray picked up the knife from the dummy, which he had thought was Alarik. They then exchanged weapons and quickly hid them.

So. Ray started. I suppose you got news for me?

Alarik nodded and handed Ray a few paper rolls.

Troubles are stirring at the royalty. Head General Malay have been very active lately. It's all described in the documents.

She cut the seal and quickly scanned the content, nodding thoughtfully a few times.

I see what you mean. She finally said.

Oh, and I bring greetings from N'jentai. He says he miss you stealing his jink. He added.

Ray smiled and thought of him. Well, tell him that I actually could need his help up here.

Alarik chuckled. Oh! I will, indeed.

I will take my leave now, I got other business to attend. Good luck Ray

They shook hands and he turned around to leave, only to be grabbed in the arm and pulled back.

Ray smirked. My wallet, please.

He first looked surprised at her, then startled. Then, knowing her stubbornness, he gave up and handed her the purse.

Aye, you definitly have become better since I last saw you. He admitted, though smiling.

As they parted, Ray went back from the path she had come from, all smiling.

''Yes, she sure had become better. Else, her life would pretty much be a waste. Weak persons often tend to become the target of the bigger, and she herself was no small fish.'' She thought while walking.

Upon arriving at the waterfall, she went through the trespass-check-routine, and, not finding any trace of intruders, she laid herself on her improvised bed and rested - Rebuilding energy for her next move

Good, Creighton thought to himself, maybe we will stand a fighting chance after all. I'll just need to catch up with the spy girl and then the guy who ran away from camp.

"Well, I most be off now. I have 2 people I need to see and then we will be heading out."

Creighton didn't wait for a response but left with his 2 weapons. He went by the Guard office and picked up 2 guards.

"Ok Ricklin and Castlo we will be moving out. We are looking for a man and a woman. You guys stick with me and maybe you'll come back alive. I figure one of them, maybe both, don't like me much."

Ricklen and Castlo: "Yes, Sir"

The 3 moved out of camp. Creighton in the lead and the other two taking his right and left flank. They traveled through the woods ac quietly as they could. Creighton figured he'd find the man first and then the woman. He had a fair chance at finding both of them but he didn't want to take any chances.

They darted in and out between trees for about 2 hours before they came upon the man. He had just left the fire-giant and was walking. They followed him for about 10 minutes before Creighton halted them.

"Listen, you two go and run ahead of him just a little bit. I'll confront him and I'll show you this sign when I want you guys to come out." Creighton made a C with his hand.

Ricklen and Castlo ran up about 100 feet in front of them man and then Creighton made his move. He came out a little ahead of them man with hands in the air in a gesture of peace; although with Creighton’s agility it didn't mean much for him to have his hands away from his blades.

"Hello again there! I never did catch your name. You left my camp in such in uproar! I hope you have found our supplies useful. I'm sorry I subdues you in such a bad way, but it was necessary to bring you to my camp!"

Creighton edged closer.

"I wish to offer you a spot in my army. I need some skilled warriors to take down a Ogre leading the Goblin armies."

Creighton awaited the man’s answer.

His gut feeling sensed that something was not right, hunters were coming. He had to leave soon. Summoning his energy reserves, Jaiyon started running towards where the weird man pointed. After running at his maximum for an hour, Jaiyon started to feel weary. He spotted a small creek and proceeded to have a drink of the sweet water.

Having soothed his parched throat, Jaiyon continued towards the encampment 'Mr Point-the-crossbow-at-my-head' told him about.

The sun soon glared down upon his back, feeling the heat, Jaiyon wanted so badly to find shelter but in the distance, he saw flags fluttering in the dry wind.

That must certainly be the encampment he was talking about

Lets see what creature he was talking about

As he neared, the Goblin watchmen awaked from the heat-induced slumber and sounded the alert.

AWAEEEE!!! The Goblin shrieked to the base camp.

Goblin Warriors poured out from their barracks ready for attack. Some goblins were apprehensive of this attack from all the false alarms started by the Commander to 'test their reflexes'.

Jaiyon saw that he had been spotted and he saw the creatures were hideous goblins. Can't eat them goblins, taste bitter to the palate he remembered his Uncle Jawed say...How was he to clear up this mess?!

It was almost midmorning now, and the heat was starting, as usual, to feel uncomfortable on Shivan's skin. He had begun to accept that no amount of life in these temperate regions would change the fact that he was still, deep down, a Northernman, and that the tundra would forever be his home.

Yet this couldn't be. Not yet. He sighed and entered the cosy village next to the wide stream coming down from the hills, and began once again to collect his thoughts from the past 24 hours. The angry scars across his face stung again, and he went to the clear stream to try and clean them. He winced as the cuts protested at the touch of the water, but carried on until satisfied that his wounds were healthier. The thoughts of the cuts inevitably led back to the man who had made them, and Shivan decided that he would have to take steps with the man, whose name he didn't even know, to become even once more. This time, he would not be caught off-guard.

With those thoughts, he went into the nearest inn and used his coins to buy food and a room for the night. It was still eight hours from sunset, and later he planned to go out and practise with his new bow. He would need it after all, when that drow showed his face.

Shivan began to realise that he would not think clearly until the score had been settled, and resolved to change these matters the very next day.

Shivan took his time over his lunch. It wasn't the best he had ever tasted, but for tavern fare it was adequate. He sighed. The day would take forever to pass like this, and it was time to get some crossbow practise in. He went to his room, fetched the stolen bow and bolts, pocketed the bolts and held the crossbow loose at his side. Stolen crossbows do not have straps, and this was unfortunate.

He left four gold coins on the table for the innkeeper for the meal, and left the inn and the small village, making a note not to wander too far in case it was dark before he returned to the inn. Many innkeepers in his experience did not take kindly to their patrons returning after Sundown.

He had not gone far when he saw three men approaching. One was a human, one was a half-elf and the other was almost certainly a drow. He resisted the urge to spit upon thinking the word 'drow'.

As they came closer, Shivan swore, quite audibly, as he recognised the leader of the military camp.

Shivan's teeth grated. "Neighbour," he grated as civilly as possible, "I am unsure if you know, but I have no interest in serving in an army, least of all the world's armies being yours. I will not take mercifully the dishonour that you have earlier shown me. I see you yet again are armed. I too. Make a single move further towards me and one of your guards will curse your stupidity for the rest of his life." He paused. "That duration will not be long, however." With that, Shivan flicked a bolt from his bag as was his habit, deftly caught it, slotted it into the bow and loaded it in one conjoined movement. "Take the hint, Drow. The day I serve under your banner will be the day that snow falls in the Underworld and the great cold lands North are no more."

As idioms went, that wasn't one of the best, but Shivan's native tongue was not that of the Kingdom of Marik.

"Go, Halfling," Shivan sneered at the drow. "Perhaps when you are less occupied with your little squabbles you and I will meet again, with less civil results."

He cursed of course that he did not just raise his gun and shoot. The dark-skinned drow and his men were not more than ten metres away. This would not, however, have been excruciating enough. Such an encounter did not provide enough potential for grim revenge.

Creighton took the man’s hint but in a different way then the man would have thought. A move fast as lightning and his swords were up gleaming in front of him. In a flash his men disappeared into the forest. Creighton edged yet another step closer to the man not knowing what to expect.

"Shoot me if you wish! By Paladine I've seen enough death that when mine comes I will not fear it. I wish not to be your enemy, though an enemy you see me as. I am sorry for my past act against you."

Creighton let his swords lower. He moved yet another step closer.

"I need people of skill to save a country. If you lack the will to save the people whose village you just left then I fear it is not I who is a coward! Think of them; think of those men, women, and children down in the village. Can you really turn your back on them without even giving them a fighting chance?"

Creighton turned and walked towards a hill were you can see the village. Then he turned around to stare at the man.

"Can't you place you past problems into the past? Just until this village...no this country has been saved?"

Creighton walked to stand right in front of the man. He put both blades away and buckled the scabbards.


Coding Addition By Frogger