When writing I find that just following the life of one person is very unsatisfying I cannot release my imagination into my writing to an extent that I find perfect. This will be somewhat different but in the end it takes place in the same imaginary world of mine, and I assure you, in my head there are room for hundreds of those. Maybe I will write something that is not a part of the fantasy genre later on.

“How fares the hunt?” A woman inquired of her officer, “Terrible, this guy is the real deal and so far he’s beaten up two whole claws numbering about three hundred well-trained soldiers, if I may say so milady I think we would be hard pressed if we put our whole army up against him.” She sighed, “We have lost three hundred to a single youth? That shouldn’t be possible, everyone is wearing resistant armor.” The young officer shook his head, “No milady, you misunderstood me, he literally beat them up. And about the armor, it did not prove very effective against his staff, oh no milady it did not.” The woman stared disbelievingly at the officer, “Are you trying to tell me that a single youth “beat up” two of my claws with a stick of wood?” The young officer started studying the tips of his boots very intently “Not exactly a stick milady, it seemed that it was somehow improved, unbreakable if you will, yet it was long, thin and elastic giving each blow a sickening capacity combined with his strength, speed and agility.” She sighed yet again, louder this time The difficulty of our work is proven yet again, will there ever be a stop to this madness ? She thought, “Any weaknesses?”

“None as far as I could tell, for a time they tried to wound him with arrows, but even when they used the resistant ones he evaded them all milady.” Her eyes widened, dodging dozens of resistant arrows loosed as one, what is this lad?
“Call the remaining claws together, I doubt he will be able to defeat a paw singlehandedly.” “Yes milady.” He said and ran off towards the encampment. Sadly, with these people you never know.. At least hes one of those brainless killers, oh holy lord, we might actually have to bring this one with us. Never before had there been one that had not presented a danger to all their lives, so they had simply disposed of them. With rather large losses each time yes but nothing like this, the ones they had encountered before had ignored physical training beyond endurance and strength leaving them almost powerless to resistant armor and weapons. But, there were of course weaknesses to the troops, the unprotected spots of skin was more than enough to allow one of those special humans to destroy them in the blink of an eye, however no matter how special a human being could be they died like the rest when pierced by dozens of arrows.

The wind slowly, almost lazily blew over the tall trees bending the tiniest twigs back and forth. In the grass, in a relatively large circle devoid of trees sat a young man, seemingly meditating, both eyes closed, legs and arms crossed and sitting on a large flat rock. Abruptly his left eyelid flickered “That’s close enough, I don’t want to hurt more of you people. As I said before, I do not understand why you are attacking me at all, I haven’t broken any of the multiple laws in this country, not even the minor ones.” Among the trees, thinking themselves well hidden were 5 claws, numbering over seven hundred well-trained soldiers. Among them was the commander, and beside her one of the few scouts. “Is he really one of them?” She asked the scout, “Oh yes milady, hes one all right one of them damn warlocks!” The commander saw several of her troops flinching at the mention of the word ‘Warlock’ it was supposed to be unspoken, the Warlocks one referred to as those, indicating they were special somehow.

Warlock, the only kind of magician that was outlawed, for one reason only. Their potential, it was vast, way beyond something as minor as a regular sorcerer for one reason, the warlocks were the only type of magicians with the power to change the true nature of things, air to flames, water to sand, iron to water. Yes even if it seemed they were making things out of nothing most of the time (air being the main factor in all changes of course.) But even sorcerers would have been extremely dangerous if they could change the form of things on a large scale, but for them that is impossible, their abilities draw on their physical strength on a very different scale from warlocks. Whereas for a skilled warlock in a good physical condition could produce mountains or towns without overstepping their limit(the latter never having been a success due to the incredible amount of detail needed), a small hill or a couple of houses was pushing the limit for a masterful sorcerer in incredible physical shape.

The horrible stories of warlocks like ‘Torei the madman’ who made seas of fire wipe out entire cities at a time, luckily he left a few survivors in one of the cities(the third large one), that sought him out and killed him while he slept, more merciful than he deserved but alas they had no other choice at the time. There was also ‘Koldor the rainman’ who conjured rain of steel bombard anyone that seemed like enemies to him, and in his later years that was anyone. There were of course several other examples to this dreaded list resulting in warlocks being killed or thrown out by parents or friends as soon as signs appeared, only a few of the cases were resolved by death early in life because of the incredibly low amount of parents that would kill their child even if it would grow up to be a warlock. Yet in the 30 years since the outlawing of warlocks took place there had been but a single warlock that had been allowed to live relatively free her entire life, the rest had all earned the death penalty through resistance of the worst kind, namely murder of many of the troops that had come to bring them to the estates. The estates being a few houses very far from towns and cities where they with a few guards could live their lives, the last few weeks one of those houses had been occupied and it now looked like one more might become so too.

“So he’s stubbornly refraining from killing, also it seems like he doesn’t even use any of his acclaimed powers how do you know he is one?” She asked the scout, “Well, he has obviously read the law, stating that it is allowed to be a warlock as long as you don’t affect anyone around yourself with it, it seems he has taken it quite literally because the only thing he does with it is aid his own movements, increasing his speed, sometimes even I barely notice a blur of his staff, also decreasing his energy use. There is also the possibility that he has heard of us and knows that that approach is better than trying to force something through hundreds of soldiers armored in resistant armor. ” Resistant armor was simply armor with a few crystals embedded in the suits of armor, all of them from a mountain believed to be created by a warlock, the crystals had the power to return whatever assailed them to it’s original form making it impossible to attack the warriors with simple attacks like fire. “Well what are we waiting for,” She said after a while, and made a circle in the air with her right hand, signalizing attack. Sounds of hundreds of feet crashing down on grass made the young man rise from his position, “Stupid,” he whispered “you people never learn.”

The man was young, about six and a half feet tall, eyes both blue and green with short black hair. He wore a vest of black leather, on top of a grey linen shirt and grey woolen trousers. In his hands he held a long staff almost 6 feet long. The staff was of a dark, almost black wood and a little thicker than man’s a big toe, it was perfectly round, smooth and frighteningly straight. He had his hands placed a small distance from each other almost at the middle of the staff whirling it threateningly. He was surrounded by hundreds of soldiers, the ones closest to him numbering perhaps sixty wielded bows, arrows notched and aiming for his arms, legs, hands and feet. “Do not move unless your life has no value to you.” One of the soldiers called out to him, “Oh, such arrogance.” He whispered to himself, in the blink of an eye he had closed the sixty feet to the nearest soldiers, as he completed a single full-length swing of his staff a dozen soldiers were lying on the ground clutching various parts of their bodies in intense pain.

The snaps of forty bowstrings announced the coming arrows, and at the same time a western wind stronger than a storm went through the clearing blowing each and every arrow off course, it also caused a few of the soldiers to topple. Meanwhile the young man continued his fighting dance, whirling, jumping, sliding and ducking. Every now and then the impact of his staff would lift someone off their feet and throw them backwards into the soldiers behind creating chaos in the ranks of soldiers. The ones that had previously wielded bows had realized the uselessness of it and joined the mass of soldiers that surrounded the young man, who whirled his staff at appalling speed constantly to keep the surrounding soldiers from coming too close damn, I can’t keep this up forever, at least last time they stubbornly kept to their small groups making it a lot easier for me. How about this? He thought as a strong wind started pushing outwards on all sides from the man, the success was limited as the really strong winds were impossible to create without time. The wounded soldiers kept falling to the ground and the young man kept moving away from them, slowly creating a way through the mass of soldiers only to create new individuals he had to get away from. Abruptly several hands grabbed both his legs and even has he swung down and heard bones break he was pulled to the ground and soldiers ran forth to help in the effort to keep him down. Damn he thought as a huge hand of stone dragged him and a few soldiers a foot of the ground and disappeared allowing him to rise to his feet again with a little help from the air. He started whirling the staff as fast as he could all the time, each impact throwing soldiers back up to ten feet, again he felt hands on his feet pulling but simply aimed his staff downwards, and even though the staff hit the rim of a shield the hands flew sideways dragging his feet with them throwing him head first onto a heavily armored soldier Damn, only a few hundred left. he thought as awareness escaped him.

May the last few days of easter treat you well.


Randomness, awaited(or maybe not) creative work.

Thank anyone who votes for me in BoB battles for the continued support somehow I keep winning which is unfathomable to me. Later in this post will be added some random part of a story I’ve worked on for some time, in my head that is. And remember that this is but a small part of that story. Don’t read this is you are easily shaken or feel offended by words, and remember that’s all it is and will ever be.

The wind travelled softly past the curtains covering the lone open window in a small room, the room was part of an inn, one of the more respected and well treated inns in the area, the wind brought with it the terrible stench from assorted animal dung and human sewage into the tiny room. The huge bed was one of two pieces of furniture in the room the other being a tiny table with a bowl of now cold water in it. The bed consisted of a massive oaken frame, with four bed posters, three of which had a rope tied around them, inside the frame was an old feather mattress, that had been expensive a long time ago. The rug that usually was on top of the mattress was lying on the floor to the right of the large bed, in it’s place was a young man. The young man was tall, 6 feet at the very least, with short and ruffled brown hair. He was wearing a thin woolen shirt and something that would have passed for woolen trousers if they had not been thin enough to be almost opaque. Both of the young man’s arms and his left foot was tied to the nearest of the bed posts. The young man lying in the large bed in the middle of the rented room started noticing the not quite subtle steps that were made all around him, he slowly opened his eyes to such a tiny exctent that the intruders would not notice that he had come to from his deep state of sleep.

The intruders were women dressed in cloth of such a dark grey that it seemed like black in the unlit room, and as his mind neared complete awareness he recognized them and as a result he drew a sudden loud breath and the women froze for a second, there were three, no four of them. “Shit,” he whispered “I know who you are.” his whisper was frantic but at the same time he seemed angry. “Damn, he woke early.” One of the women whispered, “Well nothing to fear, just one foot left anyway.” As in response, the young man slammed his only untied foot into the stomach of the only woman within his reach. The impact slammed the young woman into the nearest wall and merely luck kept her ribs from breaking. “Don’t come closer or I..” he stopped as the nearest woman in a flash of movement half-lay half sat upon him, pressing the blade of a small knife against his throat. “Why don’t you stop right about there boy.” She said, flashing him a wild smile. “You know, men are so predictable, instead of keeping their calm and thinking a situation through they panic, they always do, just like you did now. Do you think the choice you made a few seconds ago wise now?” She said silently, the young man slowly shook his head. “I thought not, now tie the remaining leg..” “Please don’t” he silently interrupted, the woman raised a questioning brow “Don’t do it” “I haven’t done anything, I never raped a woman, I haven’t even hurt one.” he continued the words interrupted by frantic breaths. The woman who now sat on top of his chest sighed, “That’s not what I heard, and if you do not quiet down soon I will be forced to do it for you.” She said. Is he really lying? How can anyone look that innocent without trying to anyway, no he must just be trying to look that way she thought. And showed him the piece of dirty cloth in her left hand. The woman started slicing cutting his shirt in half while the two women that remained standing tied his right foot to the nearest post. “I won’t drink it” He said, refering to the herbal tea that forced men to erection against their will, that he had heard about in the tales about these women, seemingly they had encountered problems with that while attempting to rape the notorious rapists he had heard about. “I doubt that you will need to.” She said noticing the bulge between the man’s legs. “Shit” he said, and blushed slightly noticing for the first time the beauty of the woman sitting on top of him, she was more than gorgeous, perfect black hair, sparkling blue eyes and the most.. Holy horse dung I am stupid he thought, I am about to be raped and all I can think about is the looks of my attackers, where did my brains fly off to he wondered. The woman smiled at his slight blush, but didn’t notice the bulge diminishing as the young man thought of the most disgusting things he had ever seen, larvae crawling inside the corpse of an unknown beheaded man. He drew a deep breath just as she tore the remnants of his woolen shirt off him, she quickly rose herself off his chest and silently jumped down on the floor. “Third?” She said, “Yes, first?” one of the women answered, somehow the voice seemed familiar to the young man, impossible he thought. “He’s all yours.” she whispered happily, her smirk making her white teeth glow in the dark. “What do you meaarrhg” the young man was interrupted as the woman known as the first shoved the piece of filthy cloth into his mouth.

The woman known as the third rose onto the bed and sat down on top of the young man’s belly, his eyes were pleading her not to. Every fibre of his body is begging me not to, gods, after all this, and I can’t do it. She sighed and said, “He didn’t do it.” , “Didn’t do what” the first asked, “He didn’t do it, he never raped anyone, I lied about it.” The first visibly shivered in anger “You what? Oh by the lord above, why would you do such a thing? I must admit I was sceptical as the innkeeper praised him as highly as she did, and I’ve never heard her talk well of a man before, but it was your word against hers and I trusted yours..” The third shrank away from the judging look the first gave her, “It’s just that it’s been my turn for weeks now, and this guy seemed suspiscous enough.” she said refusing to meet the first’s eyes, “Suspiscious?” she muttered in reply “This is the most wide-eyed innocent lad of his age I have ever seen, for all I know you might as well be in love with the poor lad. And as I have told you before, this is a scenario that should have never occured, selecting innocent targets lowers us to the level of the rapists causing fear not only among them but men in general, and as we all know, fear is dangerous..” She was interrupted by the young man spitting the dirty cloth out, “That’s you Erin, isn’t it?” He nearly shouted at the woman sitting atop him, abruptly a hand hit him hard on the side of his neck and his he fell down on the pillow, the man now unconcious. “Oh holy lord, you know him too? You’ve just about given this lad a death sentence without him doing anything, anything at all.” The third stared at her trembling hands, “We could take him with us” She said silently.. A few minutes later the four of them were trying to manouever the limp body of a man through the relatively small window and onto the street just a foot or two below, “Great oh just bloody great.” The first muttered, not seeing the small satisfied grin of the third, once again she had gotten what she wanted.

That will be it for now i think, will add more later.

The ‘retired’ asssasin part 8.

As Rendal was looking over his restless men, he could not help but wonder if any of them actually betrayed them, allthough their betrayal might be the only reason that they were alive and free now, it could present humongous problems later. Actually, if there was a betrayer, and if he somehow managed to contact the thieves, most likely none of them would survive this week. God how he hated the damn mondays!

Your plan worked master, you might have saved his and many of his men’s lives.
Sarize thought intently, and made it wander, wander until it reached her master’s mind.
Of course it worked! Have I ever given you any reason to doubt my abilities?
The thought was forced into her mind like a nail into a plank.
Her simple answer brought a long silence upon her mind, after the series of intense interruptions it had suffered this last hour, finally being able to relax was soothing.
The boy must live, see to it that he does, and remember, you suffer the same fate as him.
With this he was gone, no longer did his presence torment her mind.
Not only shall he be alive, he shall serve our will.
Sarize thought.

"The Retired Assasin" Part 6.

Its been a while since the last one, simply because I needed some time to picture how the battle would be.

The sunlight started creeping over the nearing hills as Rendal planted his feet outside the tent, he clenched his fists and shouted “To arms my brethren!”, after the echoes had retreated total silence replaced them, even the horses were silent, then the first warning came in, the howl of a shadowlurker sounded twice. Even if noone had heard the weak wardrums, nobody would ever have missed the penetrating howl, unless they were deaf. Somehow the camp started moving again, the howls had triggered a part of their minds were the only things that existed were warlust and obedience, total obedience. Everyone was getting ready for battle, saddling horses, preparing their armor, sharpening their weapons, eating and drinking, feeding horses and so on. The camp was now a stew of noice and shuffling, but due to effiency and discipline the camp was cleared up in less than twenty minutes, meaning they had less than five to prepare themselves properly for the battle to come, even less if Rendal and the officers’ estimates were wrong. The soldiers had now assembled around the rounded hill Rendal had placed himself on, obviously expecting him to make some sort of speech, so he figured it was just best to get it over with. “This is what we started the journey for!”, he said holding his battlestaff high, “To send them back to their supposed creator!”, he paused and took firm hold of his battlestaff with both hands, “Lets show the thieves that there exists none!” he said as he smashed his battlestaff into the ground, as the wood met the mud the collision made an incredibly loud “bang”. “KILL!” he shouted as loud as he could, his voice dark and rasping. The men, his men, raised their swords and shouted back as one. “KILL!”, the word echoed again and again, and the massive shout spread to the edges of the small hills west of the camp where the enemy forces were moving forward. Sarize rode up to meet Rendal leading his horse beside her, when she finally reached him at the top of the hill she leaned in close and said “You’ve already lost this battle, even from afar I could see that the enemy host was huge, they outnumber us at least eight to one. How can you possibly hope to come out victorious.” Rendal blinked slowly, mounted his horse and said “I don’t.”, Sarize opened her mouth to protest but Rendal raised his hand and said “I mean I know how we can get out of this alive, and victorious.” To this Sarize answered “So, are you gonna tell me what your plan is ?”, Rendal looked calm and sincere as he said “No.”, he started riding slowly down the hill, holding Sarize’s horse’s reigns tightly in his left hand and his horse’s reigns in his right. “Battle calls!” He shouted as he let go of the reigns of the horse beside his own and started riding slowly out of the small collection of trees where a camp had once been. When they emerged into the blazing sunlight, they rode so that they all looked like completely inexperienced riders, and 200 paces away the enemy general thought, “Ah, how fitting, if it rides like a dog, it most likely is a dog!” His men rode with newfound overconfidence, and had allready passed on the battle as won before they even had met with the other ranks. The only one that rode clearly unaffected by the sight of the enemy was “The watchman” of the troop, an elite within all tools and tricks of war, strategy, spionage, and survival. If the troops ended up at a loss the watchman’s only task would be to survive, and inform. The watchman was dressed in a black silken cloak, had black hair, black ringmail and two shining shortswords clearly made of Dorian steel. When the hosts were 50 paces from each other, as the clash between hooves and grass rang loudly throughout the plain, Rendal’s host donned bows and notched arrows, ready to loose at command. Naturally when the other host’s general saw the notched bows he ordered a quickening of the pace, then fell a bit back among the ranks. Even as the first ranks increased their pace to a gallop, their minds affected by adrenaline, they never realized that they were only there to shield the more experienced soldiers from the arrows. Rendal shouted “Loose!” and the sound of bowstrings straightening spread throughout the would-be battlefield, surprisingly the arrows were aimed at the horses, and for each horse that met its bane another 10 horses and soldiers were affected by its fall, and after the second wave of arrows the host had almost been stopped entirely. Somehow most of the soldiers managed to start up again, and even though hundreds of them were dead, there were still thousands left. “Spread!” Rendal shouted, and each and every of his men distanced from each other, to allow riders to ride between. The enemy host was only 10 paces apart from the riders, and as the first wave galloped in between the first rank of rendal’s host closed together and trapped the first ranks among enemies, as their dying screams could be heard the watchman realized that they were dealing with a tricky general, where as the General thought he was dealing with an unexperienced kid. Rendal smashed one end of his staff to the ground, and eight razor sharp blades appeared, four blades placed in a circle near each end of the rounded staff, and rode out into what was now a frenzied war zone.
Whereever he wirled his staff men died in front of him, and his men fought even more fiercily in his presence. As metal smashed against metal, where men’s dying howls could be heard even fierce shouts of anger rang in the ears of the soldiers, and after Rendal himself had joined the battle it seemed as if the men from the north was winning. The general spotted rendal and thought himself the only one worthy to beat him so he started to cut his path forward, the general was riding with his sword in one hand and his shield in the other, fighting men at both sides, as Sarize appeared in front of him, a two handed sword in her hands. The general gave the man to his right a new hole in his stomach and bashed the man two his left’s nose in so hard that the splinters of bone penetrated his brain. He slashed at Sarize’s head but his steel met hers, and witthin the blink of an eye, the end of her sword was flying towards his legs, but when it should have met flesh, it met wood instead, and with a “chunk” her sword was firmly attached to his shield..

The end of this part..


A thread of hope prologue, what do you think?

Warning: Long post, (and for those who worry about such things, I’m told that this is pretty “heavy” fantasy writing.)
At last I decided to just put up the whole prologue of my upcoming book (A thread of hope.. Oh you guessed that already ? Well.. whatever!) and (of course) I want to know what you think of it… Its a pretty long read I guess.. Anyway, good luck! 🙂

Prologue of «A thread of hope» Part 1.«The crystal tower»
A mild south east wind blew slowly throughout the charred town, and spread the macabre smell of death and ashes through the windows of the few houses left intact.
It was placed around the top of a scorched round hill, was about 2000 feet east, west, north and south, it was surrounded by a wooden palisade, and the top was surrounded by 20 feet tall reinforced granite walls.
The streets were literally soaked with blood, crushed coal lay spread on top, and to make matters worse, random body parts lay everywhere.
This left the road looking like a river of bloody and chunky meat soup, spiced with pepper.
The houses that were standing were literally falling apart, and all walls were charred black.

However there where two locations that stood out from the devastated town.
One, a humongous castle surrounded by granite walls, which stood on the top of the hill, in the center of the town.
The other a great stone tower, almost 20 feet in diameter at the foot and more than 100 feet tall.
This Tower was located 20 paces from the castle’s outer wall, was made out of almost shiny, white stone, had a small paved plaza around it, a round platform which it was placed upon, one great iron door, and no holes, in the smooth stone walls, except at the top, where the tower suddenly changed into a giant sphere made out of massive crystal, with two balconies.
In one of the many rooms of the castle, the throne room to be exact, the young Mayor was talking
to one of his generals.
“Now, the part that I don’t understand general, is how the heck did you manage to loose the entire
city guard against dark dwarfs one tenth of your numbers, and survive yourself?”
The mayor said suspiciously to the only other man in the room.
“I’m not the only survivor Sir, The Apprentice named Bayn survived too, and a few of the ones
nearest the oil barrels, in fact Bayn was the one who figured out how we could kill the Shadow Dwarfs.”
The Mayor stared angrily at the general, he definately did not like being corrected.
“And just how did he do that?” He said angrily.
“M’ka Al irbit erk un andrum” The general said.
“Which means?” The mayor asked.
“Shadows only fear the light” The general said dramatically as he pointed at the shadow of his body.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” The mayor asked angrily as he studied the general..
“Flame, they can’t stand flame” The general answered calmly.
“What about steel?” The mayor asked, a troubled look on his face.
“Steel might cut them open, but the tissue grows together in a matter of seconds, which makes it useless in the long run.”
“You still haven’t answered the first and second of my questions general…”
“Bayn told us to dip our swords into the oil barrels, and when we had done that, he sparked them aflame.
This provided us with the perfect weapon against their flesh..
It slashed straight trough.
And when Bayn started lighting up circles of flame around their small groups, it turned from a bloodbath on our side, to a bloodbath on theirs, we could just shoot them down with fiery arrows..”
The general abruptly stopped talking and laughed..
“No sir, I forgot, there were NO oil barrels.. Unfortunately for you, they did not bring any..
Instead he and the rest of the human resistance are locked up and surrounded in the Tower of the Eagle.”
“Then who are..”
The young mayor stopped as the air shimmered around what he had thought was one of his best generals, and the young general disappeared for a second, then reappeared as a hairy gray-skinned female shadow dwarf.
“I think you’ve guessed already SIR MAYOR..”
She said in a deep rasping voice.
“I’m your worst nightmare”
She whispered into his ear a blink of an eye before she wrenched his head off.
“Now Bayn, you’re up next..”
She said quietly to herself.
She knew that the stupid unexperienced warlock was to be relieved of the burden of life promptly.


At the same time, in the middle of the hollow sphere at the top of the Tower of the Eagle, the apprentice named Bayn was talking to the Real general, named Kertain.
“Let me get this straight, apprentice, you knew that the bloody dwarfs were coming?”
Kertain asked Bayn angrily.
“Not dwarfs, sir, something much darker, fiercer, ten times more bloodthirsty.
Something lacking consideration of anyone else than themselves, Something more evil than even the worst of wolves.
No general..
These are Shadow Dwarfs..”
The young apprentice which was about 6,5 feet tall, had brownish blond hair cut short,
and had what was now called an “eye disability”, but before had been known as “warlock’s eyes”.
His eyes were green when he was unaffected by emotions, blue when his mind was distant,
red when he was thinking hard, purple when he was angry, yellow when he was afraid, and orange when he was sad.
The colors where the same for everyone with the so-called disability but,
while some might have orange when they were sad, others could have purple or red.
So, only people who knew the person with the disability well could use it to the person’s disadvantage.
However, this phenomenon only occurred in human warlocks, which made it inevitable,
even though they were the strongest wielders of nature, that they almost perished,
when the races clashed together in The war of endless agony.

“I’ve not heard of these so called “shadow dwarfs” apprentice..”
The general said, looking at Bayn as if he was a stain on his otherwise spotless armor.
“The shadow dwarfs appeared when the war between the dwarfs and humans were
tipping dangerously in the favor of the humans.
When two misguided dwarf warlocks mixed their own blood with the blood of
shadow-wolves, enchanted it with powdered root of a giant oak, and offered
it to the kings guard.”
Bayn said, all the while wanting nothing more than yelling “Ignorant idiot” to the face of the general who was just that..
His eyes turning dangerously purple, he continued
“All though it was meant as one last desperate effort to turn the war into the dwarfs’ favor,
it turned into exactly the opposite.
The kings guards’ skin turned from, the normal suntanned color, into a dark gray.
And where their normal and facial hair had been, brown, red or blond before.
It was as black as a raven’s feather.”
Bayn paused, took a very deep breath, closed his eyes and tried to remember exactly
what Griandares had said about the Shadow dwarfs before he spoke again.
“To make matters worse, oh so much worse, their eyes turned to a glowing red,
and they turned against the race they had once been a part of,
killed their own king, and cut a path through both armies, without loosing a single one of their number, the only thing the remaining normal dwarfs could do, was resign, and flee to their former homes.
The element from which they were made, the earth, so they fled into the mountains.
The remaining humans, fled back to what is now called the plains of the world,
To a country twice the size of these time’s so called empire.
And hoped to never encounter the shadow dwarfs again..”
He paused again, took a deep breath, and sent a glare spiced with despise, against the general, who now had the courage to tap his foot, obviously unaffected and bored by his tale so far.
“Of course, as many other times in history, hope was betrayed when the shadow dwarfs reappeared and raided a large town in the outskirts of the Nation, that was called, “The city of fire”, simply because one of their many specialties was to light their swords on fire when they were fighting a foe stronger in numbers than themselves.

However, the darkness of the shadow-dwarfs skin together with the darkest of nights,
provided shelter from the watchful eyes of the town’s sentries, and when they sneaked
up to the town gates, killed the guards and ravaged the town..
The defenders thought nothing would work on them, until they in one last effort lit their swords on fire, and ran together into the center of the town, where they to their amazement managed to hold the shadow dwarves off, and after one last bloody skirmish, the dwarves turned their tails and fled.”
Bayn paused yet another time, and since he was starting to get enthusiastic now that
the tapping had stopped, his eyes were turning blue as he thought of how to continue his
terribly true story.
“Unfortunately, the word that fire bit through their flesh could not be spread quickly enough,
and a number of towns were completely devastated before the empire could assemble an army,
and locate the shadow dwarfs’ headquarters.However, when they to their own amazement found that they had settled inside their nation’s border, they gathered the entire force of all towns and cities in the country, and marched against the shadow dwarfs’ puny host.”
He paused dramatically, and drew his breath silently to prolong the pause, and strengthen the feeling that the worst was yet to come.

“This, should prove to be a fatal mistake..
When they reached the location where the headquarters’ was supposed to be,
they saw nothing, absolutely no sign that there had EVER been a camp of some sort there..
There was only one conclusion available..
Their scouts and spies, had double crossed them…”
Bayn took yet another pause, and studied the general’s face with satisfaction,
as he realized that the general’s otherwise stony look was wavering..
“The worst has yet to come…” He thought as he smiled broadly.
“This was not a regular betrayal like in the stories however, where the enemies jumped out in ambush and the good men still won.
No, this was endlessly much worse, when they retraced their path, everything looked normal,
all towns and small cities left intact, despite the fact that they had been almost unprotected for a matter of weeks.
The brighter part of the army already thought that this was too unsavage a way for the shadow dwarfs to act, so they prepared themselves for the worst, and headed for the capital.”
Bayn paused yet again, and was satisfied to see the general obviously lost in thought, hopefully inspired by the tale he was telling.
He drew his breath and continued.
“But there was nothing in the entire world that existed then, or now, that could have prepared them from the sight that met their eyes when they finally reached it.
The city had been ruined inside out, the walls were overturned, the castle lay in ruins, all
houses of wood either in ruins, or still burning, the Palace plundered and devastated, the old men, old women and young boys brutally murdered, and the women and young girls raped and
And the worst, a shadow dwarf host, a lot less puny than expected went laughing about the city
and were ravaging what was left to be ravaged, killing the one’s who were left to be killed,
and raping the one’s who were left to be raped.”
Bayn paused, and was pleased to find that the otherwise so stone-faced general, was actually staring intently into the wall.
“A staring face, is the face of a fool, general. I’m glad you finally show your true person.”
Bayn thought, before he continued telling the tale, that made stone-faced men mope.

“Although the human host, would have crushed the one the Shadow Dwarfs had, in a matter of hours, it was not meant to be.
The shock had brought up a deeply buried matter of importance, that was to be the kings death.
The shock of seeing their, lovers, wives, and families either raped or slaughtered, brought up the matter of why one person should be able to control the entire force of the country.”
Bayn paused, sat down on the crystal bench before he continued.
“So the host split up in two, those for the king, and those against him.
If it had been split in half, most likely no one would dare to actually start the attack,
but the ones against the king, outnumbered the others three to one, so they charged, immediately after they had assembled their forces.
It was a bloodbath, and since the humans were in the middle of a fierce battle, no one took notice of the escaping shadow dwarfs.
In the end, more and more humans that were for the king, changed sides by the second, so the rest of them surrendered, and handed over the king, that was decapitated by the oppositions leader, almost at once.”
Bayn paused, and made a mental note to remember how painful sitting on the bench actually was.
“The shadow dwarfs were forgotten and an committee was made and they decided, that the country should be controlled by the mayors of the cities, that should be elected by the people living in the cities.
There should also be a supreme council of senators, chosen from among the mayors, by the mayors.
When this was finally decided, the shadow dwarfs had re-armed and prepared themselves to perform yet another devastating attack against the human race, when the new city guard of “The City of Fire”
caught them in ambush, and thought they killed every last one of their terrifying race.”
Bayn finished, and as the general made as if to speak, he raised his hand.

He had one last thing to say before, allowing foolish questions from the general.
“Unfortunately from what we’ve seen so far today, the so called “master mercenary dwarfs”
that have popped up everywhere these last few years are indeed shadow dwarfs, and,
the law the committee of Democracy made, to prevent invasions of the country from being absolutely devastating, may prove to help invasions do just that.
I fear that if the dwarves have not done so already, they’ll invade the rest of our weak ’empire’.”
The general had no idea of the situation they were in, no idea at all.
Bayn recited the poem out of Gil’Yar’s “Book of prophecy.” his as deep as he was able to make it.
“When the shadow reaches the tower of crystal,
The apprentice must go to the woods of thistle.

And seek help from the hidden races.
Allthough they are hidden in two different places.
The shadow may be a threat, but its just one of many.
Of humans in the end, there might not be any.
The seeker of doom is always around.
Doom for the humans, for him there’s the crown
One thread there is, one last strand of hope.
For the world to avoid withering and going up in smoke.
The three true races, must ally as one.
Or else whats left of hope will truly be gone.
The apprentice and a son of the mountains will meet.
The duty of helping lies at their feet.
So do not give up, no matter what, you must cope.
Remember, there’s still one last thread of hope.

(The poem was of course written in a much more encrypted form of speech, and on top of that it was written in Dwarfish, so this was the easiest way for him to recite it.).

The End Prologue Part 1 of ???

© Copyright 2006 Ragnar, The owner of this Blog.

Remember to tell me what you think.. 🙂

"Sneak Preview" A thread of hope.

Its a few days since I’ve posted anything creative so I thought I’d give you
a sneak preview of the 1st part of my upcoming novel ‘A thread of Hope’

A mild south east wind blew slowly throughout the charred town,
and spread the macabre smell of death and ashes through the windows
of the few houses left intact.
It was placed around the top of a scorched round hill, was about 2000 feet east,
west, north and south, it was surrounded by a wooden palisade, and
the top was surrounded by 20 feet tall reinforced granite walls..
The streets were literally soaked with blood, crushed coal lay
spread on top, and to make matters worse, random body parts lay everywhere.
This left the road looking like a river of bloody and chunky meat soup,
spiced with pepper.
The houses that were standing were literally falling apart,
and all walls were charred black.

However there where two locations that stood out from the devastated town.
One, a humongous castle surrounded by granite walls, which stood on the top of the hill, in the
center of the town.
The other a great stone tower, almost 10 feet in diameter and more than 100 feet tall.
This Tower was located 20 paces from the castle’s outer wall, was made out of almost shiny, white stone, had a small paved plaza around it, a round platform with steps that it stood on,
one great iron door, and no holes, in the smooth stone walls, except at the top, where the tower suddenly changed into a giant sphere made out of massive crystal, with two balconies.
In one of the many rooms of the castle, the throne room to be exact, the young Mayor was talking to one of his generals.

© Copyright 2006 All rights Reserved, Ragnar T. Miljeteig

The Man of The Mountains (unedited version)

Tiny drops of sweat beaded on a huge man’s forehead. He stood in the middle of a humungous mountainside.
The man was young, almost in his middle years, he had black hair, cut short, which he never could quite restrain from looking rough, and green eyes.
His body was muscular, his arms looked like very thick ropes, and his shoulders were broad.
His chest was large, covered up in muscles, and his legs looked like they should belong to a bear.
He wore plain woollen trousers, held up by a worn leather belt holding a hefty axe, a white linen shirt, and new, brown tanned leather boots, which still hurt to walk in.
His eyes moved quickly from spot to spot on the lower part of the mountainside, he couldn’t see anyone, but was convinced that someone was there, following him.
He thought he saw something moving down the mountainside, near the slope, so he quickly started moving again.
“They’re going to catch me, they are, I know it!” He thought, “They won’t, you fool, you are halfway, and they’ve only just started!”

He quickened his pace a little, and moved towards the lowest spire of the enormous mountain, or at least so it seemed.
The mountain was huge, though not very steep, and not really tall, but there were at least 6 jagged spires, and it was all blueish grey stone, with edges and holes everywhere.
There was not really a path up there but, the man had found a way up when he was younger.
In his mind he could see the ones chasing him, catching up with him and beheading him on the spot.
“I haven’t done anything at all.” He thought..
“So why are they chasing you then?”
He had just stood there, on the mountain slope, watching the events.
The little town he had lived in was now partly collapsed, crushed by large rocks.
And they blamed him, claiming the mountain seemed his best friend.
“Like the mountain had its own will and intended those rocks to smash those houses. They are all mad!” He thought.
“It was an avalanche, I had nothing to do with it!” “Didn’t you?” “Then why are you arguing with yourself?” “I’m not…” He realized that he was in fact having an argument with himself, and thought he was going mad.
He had just been sitting a little up the slope of the mountain, when they started yelling for him.
“Fedrin Odilhes!” They had called after him. “Yes, Fedrin is my name”. Fedrin thought, as he continued against the spire, or rather, the row of spires. “Didn’t even remember your own name? Now that doesn’t seem very innocent does it?”
Some inner voice inside Fedrin seemed to say. “Shut up! Just shut up.”
He told it, and it disappeared.

The people that lived in the village called the mountain Odilhesfernat, which meant “Spires many”.
He had been named Fedrin Odilhes (Born by Spires) because the people in the town had found him near the row of spires.
When he finally was at the lowest spire, he went up to the carving in the stone, which looked like a doorframe.
He touched what would have been the door with his hands, and thought of the door moving upwards. And the door of stone slowly started to creep upwards.
Revealing what seemed to be a tunnel.
When the door had disappeared completely into the roof of the tunnel, he went inside and thought of the door of stone closing the opening again.

Before it closed entirely a grey mountain wolf darted through the opening.
The opening closed, and it should have been as dark as night in the tunnel, but sunlight shone through small holes in the roof, Fedrin took the hefty wooden axe from his belt and planted both feet steadily on the ground a few paces from the wolf. He wielded the axe in both hands with a fierce look in his green eyes.
The wolf darted forward, sharp teeth bared, when the axe rushed down and took of its head.
Blood splattered all over Fedrin, the floor, walls and the roof, and then as suddenly as the flow of blood from the neck had started, it stopped.
Fedrin smiled, “Being a lumberman had finally proved useful.”
He thought, as he took up the bloody wolf head and smashed it into the tunnel’s right wall.
He could not help feeling shaken as he cleaned his axe on the wolf’s fur and walked downwards in the tunnel.
He had made his first kill, and if he knew how many more he would have to murder, before this nightmare-like adventure was over, he would kill himself on the spot.

Walking down the plain tunnel, he realized that every bit of this tunnel was carved with precision that seemed impossible.
The stone was not ruffled, like most human work was, there was not even marks from chisels or pickaxes, the stone was completely smooth, almost as if the mountain had formed the tunnel by itself.
Even the holes in the roof, letting dimmed, greyish, sunlight in, was exactly 5 feet apart, and cut in perfect squares.
Being closed up in a tunnel filled with greyish light, it seemed like the walls was closing in on Fedrin, and his pace rapidly increased from a walk to a run, just to get out of the tunnel.
Where you couldn’t tell one meter of stone from another, other than the difference in height. Fedrin’s steps echoed throughout the tunnel, in a way that made it seem like someone was following him.
He was on the edge of giving up, when the tunnel straightened, and a doorframe, just like the one earlier, appeared in front of him.

Desperate to get out, he thought of the door exploding, but unable to really concentrate because of his ragged breathing, he sat down to the stone floor, trying to settle his breathing and the feeling that the walls was closing in on him.
“Ok now, Breath slowly.” He told himself, and his ragged breathing started to turn into a slow and calm one.
He thought once again of the door exploding, and this time the door obeyed his thought.
The door slowly cracked, from the middle and outwards, as if resisting, but then, suddenly it burst out of the frame in pieces, leaving a rectangular hole in the mountainside.
He heard some weird noises outside but darted out nonetheless.
When he came out of the tunnel, he blinked a few times to adapt his eyes, and realized he was in a hidden valley, and, that two very small, muscular, human-like, bearded, grey eyed creatures with grey skin, was standing on either side of him, wielding long handled spears.
He saw a blurred movement and felt two spear-points against his neck, he studied their eyes, looking for some sort of hint, but all he could see, was determination.
All hope was lost, or was it?