Gods & Men: The Ancient Myths: Chapter 1 IC Thread

[trustyside-kick]

Some people would call me a scholar, but I just choose wisely with my words. Others would call me a man of god, a preacher. I have my beliefs, and fear the Almighty for his presence is indeed here, but I do not praise him. Many would go to call me a prophet, believing that my stories fortell possible future events, but I merely re-tell tales of the past, no trickery in this.

I am none of these. So who am I? That matters not. I am untamable, bearing ties to no one. My alliegance lies not with the elves, nor the dwarves, nor even the humans. My heritage, bears little, next to no importance in why I am here. I have been away from home, for so long, after I have told my tale, you too will have forgotten me, for I will not be here afterwards. I am a recluse. I am a hermit. I am a nomad. I am an outcast. But you may call me Caed.

***

...The sword which Kelvin continues to work on is finally ready for cooling. He places it into a bucket of water to do such a task, and he runs back over to the other side of the forgery, and pulls out another piece of metal out of the furnace. He grabs his hammer as he sets the piece of hot metal upon his anvil, and starts to hit away at it with all sense of urgency. One cannot be without some sort of protection, no matter how good a swordsman is. Without but a few pieces of armor, he is still vulnerable to harm. Luckily, he just has to make a few finishing touches on this last piece of metal as his sword cools.

***

Magus' men advance throughout the small town, causing Elwin and Drake to fall back behind the baker's house, as they re-address their means of strategy. Before they had the advantage of their enemy coming from one direction: west. But now, the Caldorian soldiers are in the city deep enough, that they could easily encircle the small group of men--young and old--who stay to defend their homes with Elwin and Drake.

They find it hard to find silence to be able to hear each other, but try to make due. All throughout the town, horrifying shrieks and roars boom.

"The bastards let howlers run loose in our village! But try not to listen to them, men! We have to keep strong!"

Elwin walks over to Drake, speaking but a whisper almost. He wishes to not lower the morale of the group of men before him. They are not soldiers, just average citizens defending what matters to them most. What hope they can hang on to is all they have.

"...It would seem we are starting to lose room to hide and run to, gentlemen. I'm afraid we may have lost."

"Don't say that, Drake! You got word to the Dragon Riders, did you not? Didn't expect you to be back so quickly. Although I suppose--"

"I handed the task to a small boy after saving his life. He goes as we speak now, hiding behind these walls of brick, wood, and straw, to light up one of the beacons. When my brother and the other Dragon Riders see the radiant flame, hopefully it will be enough. If not, I instructed the boy to blow the Great Horn of Keltor."

"All this, in the hands of a small boy?"

"What was I to do, Elwin? Run and do it myself? You need me here, at the frontlines. We do not exactly have trained men here. We must deal with what we have. I couldn't bare the thought of weakening the unit with my absence. I'm more use here, in the brink of battle."

Elwin turns back to the group of men, seeing how his little argument with Drake grabbed their attention a bit perhaps too much. But rather show expression of fear, if anything they look determined to feel just the opposite: brave. The War has slipped into their backyard, if they do not do something now, the rest of the Kingdom may suffer.

"Alright, then. We can only hope the little lad pulls through. So, let's give him the time he needs, boys! Let's use the home field advantage, and strike at these Caldorian cretins when they least expect! Are you with me?!"

The peasants and townfolk all raise their weapons and arms into the air as they cheer in reaction, and Drake turns to Elwin, unable to hide the worry in his eyes. Elwin shakes it off, and takes some of the townsfolk with him, the others with Drake...
​

 

[trustyside-kick]

Centirius, The Woodland Guardian
​

A group of men, getting wood for their village to start the large bonfire tonight to celebrate a special occasion, start to converse and make small talk when one finds a peculiar piece of wood.

"Say, look at this one!"

One of the men bring back to the group a piece of wood, carved into a small bear cub, sitting on a leaf.

"Found a little time on your hands, did you Thomas?"

"What? No. No! I found it further into the woods, I swear it! Such craftmanship! It's so smooth and--"

"Probably some beggar, who got lost in the woods trying to find some berries."

Thomas looks at the carved piece of wood again, admiring the detail and smoothness of it. He looks over at the other men, who continue hacking away at the tree barks for more wood to add to the bonfire pile, and an idea comes across his mind.

"What if it one of those elves, eh?"

"An elf?"

"Sure! They...they're woodland folk!"

"Here? In Splintershire? I highly doubt it Thomas."

One of the other men, distracted by the conversation intervenes.

"What if it one of those nomads. You know, those woodland folk? There's talk about a Guardian that roams these lands, hiding away in the forests."

"Oh really now? And where could one find such a Guardian? Does he just walk straight up to you and tell you he is the woodland Guardian and bid you good tidings? Honestly, Edgar, what rubbish!"

"I heard of 'em too. Only, I heard it was a bear. A great, big, enormous bear! A white bear at that!"

"A white bear? What, like a polar bear? Please Eric, this is a forest! Why in the blazes would a polar bear be here. Tis not even cold! Now get your heads together, and start actually using those axes in your hands, and help us get the wood ready! And Thomas? Toss aside that damn little trinket. Get back to work!"

"...Aye."

Thomas walks back over to the spot he was cutting down wood, and gently places down the carved bear cub sitting on a leaf. When he looks ahead, he sees a bear; a white one. He gasps in shock, and looks back at the other men; they do not seem to notice it. When he looks back ahead, the white bear is gone.

Later that evening, as most of the men were drunk and asleep, Thomas was the opposite. He enjoyed he evening, nothing was to question that, but the image of the white bear had grabbed his mind, even in his dreams as he tried to sleep. He gets up from his bed, and walks across the mud and straw floor of his home, and puts on what clothes he can find to keep him warm. He heads for the woods.

He wanders about the woods, his hands wrapped around his body as the chilling night is upon him and the wind whizzes. He finally spots what he is looking for, the small carved item from earlier that day. He picks it up, and he just looks at it, dazed in the perfect craftmanship of it yet again. He doesn't even notice the footsteps that approach him, the leaves ruffling and twigs being snapped. It is not until he hears a voice, that Thomas realizes he is not alone.

"No one cares for the trees anymore..."

"AH!"

Thomas drops the carved piece of wood, and gets up, looking around at the figure before him. Instead, expecting a man, he sees the white bear from before. Shocked, and scared at the same time, he watches as the white bear walks around him. After circling him, it finally moves closer towards him, and he goes into fright; but he is so afraid he cannot move. The bear is now but a few inches away from him, but not looking up at him, but rather the opposite direction. He steps back a moment, and he sees what the creature looks down at; the carved piece of wood.

To Thomas' surprise, he witnesses something he never dreamed imaginable. Before his eyes, an aura forms around the white bear, and a bright light appears. Nearly blinded by the light, he covers his eyes, peaking through what little he can to see the sight before him. Unable to believe he is doing anything but hallucinating, he sees the bear transform into a man.

The man reaches down, and picks up the carved piece of wood. For a moment, he just stares at it, as Thomas did earlier. Then, he reaches for something in his side, which startles Thomas, as he falls back on his own feet tripping over a chunk of wood. The man takes out a small knife, and carves something into the wood.

"No one cares for the trees anymore...except you. I am not a man of naive understanding, you need firewood to keep yourselves warm in the cold night. But...you seem to see more in the beauty of the forests."

The mysterious man hands over the now finished carved piece of wood to Thomas, and Thomas marvels at it. He easily notices the finishing touches that was made, and he smiles greatly as he gazes at it.

"Perhaps there is hope in Splintershire yet."

"I don't know about that, I just--"

As Thomas looks up, the man is gone. He looks around, and to the distance, he can see a brown bear, walking the opposite direction.

 

[Green Lantern]

Grsh'na, Chieftain of Orcs

Light shines down on the rag tag encampment in the low valley. As the residents of that encampment stirred, the air surrounding them was filled with hoarse grunts, and gutteral growls.

In the most substantial tent, a large orc rolled over avoiding the light that threatens to keep him from his sleep. The tribe's day had come to an end, but light still made it difficult to sleep. Grsh'na drifted to sleep in the shadows of his tent.

Hours Later:

Grsh'na awoke with a start, as noise of battle flooded his ears. His adrenaline surged as he bellowed loudly for the tribe to hear. He grabbed his halbred axe from beside his bedroll and grunted loudly, for a good fight was always welcome.

As he threw open his tent, he looked out to see several knights on horseback, most bearing a standard of a red cross on their shields. They were mowing down his tribe by the lot, and Grsh'na screamed angrily, drawing the attention of the nearest knight.

The man reared his horse and brought the stallion around to bear down upon the Orc chieftain. As the animal and rider charged at him, Grsh'na growled loudly, loud enough infact to scare the horse. The animal whinnied and bucked, throwing its rider to the ground nearby as it ran away from the Orc. Grsh'na laughed as the man fumbled for his sword, obviously afraid of the thing approaching him with a rusted axe. The knight managed to get his sword from his scabbard just as the axe came down on his neck, clanging against the metal of his helmet as it dented, breaking the bones in the man's neck.

Grsh'na looked around to see more of his orcs finally starting to turn the tide on the rest of the knights.

"Come you pansies! I think you fight like elven! Fight!"
​

 

[Andy C.]

Liam of Nottingham
Part I: Legacies​

Sir Rowland's horse has thrown a shoe.

That's why I'm spending the rest of the afternoon working a hell-hot oven, bashing hammer and steel together, forging a new one-- instead of visiting her like I'm supposed to. Today's the anniversary, and I won't even be able to give her the flowers she likes until after sunset.

Three years ago, this day, my mother died.

It wasn't from any murderous enemy or wicked curse. It was simply the cold that took her. I'd worked hard to try and keep the house warm, but the simple fact was that we were too poor. She had taken care of me all alone since I was too young to remember, and when it was my turn to take care of her...I failed.

Since then, I've made it a point to go to her grave on the day she died, give her a handful of her favorite flowers, and let her know that I never let the house get cold anymore.

But today, Sir Rowland's horse threw a shoe. And whenever Sir Rowland wants something, the people of Notthingham had better make sure that he gets it.

"I want Thunder up and about by supper," he told me, "or my men will burn your little shop to the ground."

Sadly, that's the way things have been ever since I can remember. Not a year before I was born, England was still a relatively peaceful kingdom, all banners united for the good of the realm, all men and women glad to fight for the just and righteous at Camelot. Once the good King Arthur died, though, the ideas of right-over-might were shoved aside by fat, greedy men, men who flexed their muscle over people who could not do anything about it, simply because it made them feel important. Men like Sir Rowland.

It seems like I was born at just the wrong time, in just the wrong place. I know how bad the country has gotten, but I'm in no position to do anything about it. That's why I'm a lowly blacksmith, pounding out horseshoes for a man the whole shire is too afraid to hate.

"Excuse me, blacksmith."

I look up from my work and my thoughts, and see an old man on a horse, draped some manner of official robes. His colors aren't those of Sir Rowland, however. They are the red and gold of the old Round Table. This man was, in his day, a Knight of Camelot.

"Can you tell me the way to the Lord's castle? I must speak with William, son of Godfrey of Nottingham."

I never knew my father, but I did know that was his name. Why would a Knight of King Arthur come looking for his son, and why would he think to find him in Rowland's castle?

"I live in no castle, sir, but William is my name and Godfrey was my father's. As far as I know, I'm the only one in Nottingham who can say that."

The old man narrows his eyes and looks me over, inspecting me like I was on display.

"Ah! Of course! You look just like him," he exclaims before fumbling through his saddle-bag and producing a parchment.

"This, then, is for you. It's your father's last will and testament."​

 

[Johnny Blaze]

Slieken drops to the ground from his perch, letting his bow fall from his hands, as he pulls Urndagnir from its scabbard. The blade felt right in his hand, and Slieken smiled as he brought it up to parry the blow of a hobgoblin's knife. The metals of the blades clanged and with a flick of his wrist, Slieken disarmed his foe. The beast snarled and bit at him, but Slieken kicked it in the knees and watched it buckle to the soft mud. The elf quickly drove his blade into the back of the wretched monster and turned to his comrade.

"You appear to be of my home country, what brings thou to Deutschlande?"

"Why, I had heard tale that it was such a beautiful country", Rothgar states with a laugh as he brings Banahogg crashing through a wooden shield of a hobgoblin, the burning blade biting deep into the beast's chest.

"Filled with such interesting people and places", Rothgar continues as he brings his sword around, slicing the weapon arm cleanly off the hobgoblin that approached from the rear.

By now the few remaining hobgoblins wanted nothing more to do with these two brutal opponents and began to turn tail and run back into the forest.

"Why, I just had to come and see it for myself", Rothgar says as he takes out a throwing axe and hurls it towards an escaping goblinoid, burying the blade deep in the back of it's skull.


"So far the stories ring true. Why", Rothgar says as he calmly walks over and rips the axe from the back of the beast's head.

"Meeting these fine individuals here was worth the trip alone", Rothgar says with a laugh as he cleans the blood from his axe on the goblinoid's tunic.

 

[EasternComfort]

INN of Remus: Twenty miles outside of Rome

Latrunculi was a dangerous game to play on the outer cities of the Roman Empire especially for a foreigner. In the city it was respectable and played by Aristocrats in halls and even between matches at the coliseum. Here they were played by bandits and those naive and greedy enough to think a high stakes game wouldn't end in their deaths if they won. Bandits preyed on wealthy travelers and merchants looking to make some quick money while in town. Enki wasn't worried, in fact the bandit sitting across from him was.

"Make a move Uruk." the bandit said loudly, trying to mask any fear he had.

It was two years back when Enki was playing at an Inn outside of Rome when a group of Bandits attacked him after winning a high stakes game. None survived and his Reputation became well known among the towns along the road to Rome.

Enki didn't even look at the man he just picked up his piece and took one of the bandits. "Your move."

Latrunculi was not a game of luck it was a war of battling ideas. Enki's focus was not on the board though it was on the questions that plagued his mind for weeks. His mind was split between thoughts of his love and that of revenge for his master. Rome and answers was less than a day travel time and for the first time in his life Enki was unsure he wanted to follow through on his plan.

"Haha running low on pieces, eh Uruk?" The bandit said mockingly moving slightly over the table toward Enki with a grin on his face taking a piece.

Enki glared back at the man with a blank expression on his face as if he were a statue. One might have thought it so if not for Enki's eyes piercing into his opponent, the way you picture an arrow piercing the neck of a deer. Enki took a deep breathe and nonchalantly glanced around the room before turning his attention back on the man in front of him.

"Mate." he said exposing the trap he had laid for the bandit.

"You!" the bandit yelled rising from his chair infuriated.

Enki sat back in his chair putting his hands to his side while keeping his eyes fixed on the man. Slowly the bandit lifted his hands never taking the angry look off his face as he spoke.

"I don't want any trouble with your kind just take your money and get the hell outta my face."

Nothing. The bandit did nothing to stop him from leaving and even walking down the road where he expected a trap like so many times before there wasn't one. In a way he was glad, reputation was a very important thing in his line of work and it had obviously had gotten around. At the same time he thought to himself most of the fun is gone now. Now he understood why many of his order left after attaining high rank, no one wanted to face them. He frowned.

"Well hopefully everything else goes this smoothly, I guess."

He continued walking, by morning time he'd be in Rome.

 

[Green Lantern]

"Why, I had heard tale that it was such a beautiful country", Rothgar states with a laugh as he brings Banahogg crashing through a wooden shield of a hobgoblin, the burning blade biting deep into the beast's chest.

"Filled with such interesting people and places", Rothgar continues as he brings his sword around, slicing the weapon arm cleanly off the hobgoblin that approached from the rear.

By now the few remaining hobgoblins wanted nothing more to do with these two brutal opponents and began to turn tail and run back into the forest.

"Why, I just had to come and see it for myself", Rothgar says as he takes out a throwing axe and hurls it towards an escaping goblinoid, burying the blade deep in the back of it's skull.


"So far the stories ring true. Why", Rothgar says as he calmly walks over and rips the axe from the back of the beast's head.

"Meeting these fine individuals here was worth the trip alone", Rothgar says with a laugh as he cleans the blood from his axe on the goblinoid's tunic.

Slieken wiped his blade on the grass, cleaning it of the goblin blood.

"Ugh. It will take weeks of good clear spring water to remove the stench from my sword."

Slieken sheathed the sword and extended his hand to Rothgar.

"You seem that you could be a good companion, friend. What is your story and name?"

 

[Johnny Blaze]

Slieken wiped his blade on the grass, cleaning it of the goblin blood.

"Ugh. It will take weeks of good clear spring water to remove the stench from my sword."

Slieken sheathed the sword and extended his hand to Rothgar.

"You seem that you could be a good companion, friend. What is your story and name?"

"Name's Rothgar Skullsplitter, friend", smiled the Norseman as he clasped the elf's extended hand with a hearty handshake.

"I hail from Medelpad, in Norrland, and I am an adventurer by choice and trade. I was hired on as a guard by these merchants", he said as he looked around at their dead bodies.

"But they didn't want to take my advice about hiring more men. Poor, stupid souls wanted to save as much coin as they could. And now look were it got them", he stated with a sad sigh and a shake of his head.

"But when the Norns decide it is time to cut thread, there is nothing a person can do."

"Your accent catches my ear, my pointy-eared friend", spoke Rothgar as he changed the subject to something less grim.
"You are from Svealand, yes?"

 

[Green Lantern]

"Name's Rothgar Skullsplitter, friend", smiled the Norseman as he clasped the elf's extended hand with a hearty handshake.

"I hail from Medelpad, in Norrland, and I am an adventurer by choice and trade. I was hired on as a guard by these merchants", he said as he looked around at their dead bodies.

"But they didn't want to take my advice about hiring more men. Poor, stupid souls wanted to save as much coin as they could. And now look were it got them", he stated with a sad sigh and a shake of his head.

"But when the Norns decide it is time to cut thread, there is nothing a person can do."

"Your accent catches my ear, my pointy-eared friend", spoke Rothgar as he changed the subject to something less grim.
"You are from Svealand, yes?"

"Aye. And that is where I make journey to return. I have some family business to resolve. Mayhaps violently. You have proven yourself in a fight, perhaps you'd care to make the journey with me?"

The elf dusted off his armor, and looked to the north.

"Only another day's travel 'for we reach the sea."

 

[Johnny Blaze]

"Aye. And that is where I make journey to return. I have some family business to resolve. Mayhaps violently. You have proven yourself in a fight, perhaps you'd care to make the journey with me?"

The elf dusted off his armor, and looked to the north.

"Only another day's travel 'for we reach the sea."

"HA! Those are the best kind of resolutions", laughed Rothgar as he sheethed his sword.

"So, since it seems that we are to be traveling together, shall I call you something other than elf", joked Rothgar to his new companion.

 

[Green Lantern]

"HA! Those are the best kind of resolutions", laughed Rothgar as he sheethed his sword.

"So, since it seems that we are to be traveling together, shall I call you something other than elf", joked Rothgar to his new companion.

"Twould be preferred, actually. Some folk around these parts hold prejudices against my kind. My given name is Sil-Kano, rightful king of Tiveden. But you friend, may call me Slieken."

As the pair walked along the path, Slieken looked up.

"It is my birthright for which we journey to reclaim. By Ullr's grace, I hope that we succeed."

 

[Johnny Blaze]

"Twould be preferred, actually. Some folk around these parts hold prejudices against my kind. My given name is Sil-Kano, rightful king of Tiveden. But you friend, may call me Slieken."

As the pair walked along the path, Slieken looked up.

"It is my birthright for which we journey to reclaim. By Ullr's grace, I hope that we succeed."

"Yes, I would prefer success over defeat", quipped Rothgar.
"It has been a long time since last I saw my homeland. So this journey will do my heart good. Besides, I owe you my life for the save."

"And it is an honor to meet you, Your Majesty", Rothgar stated with a respectful bow.

"And if by my life or death I can help you regain your crown", the Northman stated, his face turning to a sudden serious look, "I shall."

 

[Johnny Blaze]

The lich glided across the rocky floor effortlessly, the purple energy radiating from his eye-sockets casting an eerie glow in the tunnel around him.

Back from the ruins of ancient Babylon, Charaun's quest for the Crown of Horns had finally come to fruition. The fabled dark artifact rested comfortably on the lich's head as he walked silently down the Underdark passage underneath his castle, Warlock's Rest.

All was silent for a time, but, as he delved deeper into the Earth, the sound of crunching bone began to cut through the quiet gloom.

Soon the lich found himself in an immensely large cavern lit dimly by green glowing mold and fungi. The crunching sound echoed loudly here, and soon Charaun came face-to-face with the source.

The shadow dragon was gigantic, it's pitch black scales barely shimmering in the natural light as it slowly chewed on the remains of what appeared to be a dwarf.

"I see that recent hunts have been successful, glorious Nightshade", greeted Charaun as he bowed respectfully to the dragon.

The dragon stared hard at the lich as it swallowed it's meal down.

"The dwarves' greed brought them into my hunting grounds", spoke Nightshade in a booming voice akin to rolling thunder.
"The foolish creatures did not know what had happened until it was too late."

"You seem different, Charaun. I sense a greater darkness within you", Nightshade stated.

"As always, you're senses do not fail you", replied the Lich.
"I have finally obtained the prize I long sought. I am now much more than what I once was. And it is now time to begin the next part of my plan."

"Truly", spoke the dragon as it moved closer to the lich, "and what makes you think that I shall still go along with your plans, wizard?"

Charaun gave a slight chuckle. Nightshade was simply posturing, wanting to keep an air of superiority about her. Typical etiquette from a dragon when dealing with the "lesser" races.

Though Charaun was as far removed from those races as she was.

"You know as well as I do that we share a common goal", replied the lich.
"What I desire would benefit you immensely."

Nightshade stood directly in front of the lich, gazing at him as if trying to gain some measure on his new-found might.

"You speak the truth, Charaun", spoke Nightshade after many silent moments.
"Our partnership will continue...for now."

"Excellent", replied Charaun as he nodded his head in satisfaction.
"Now, it is time to gather your brethren, great Nightshade. Long has it been since this world has witnessed a Flight of Dragons. It is a thing only spoke of in legends and lore. I think it high time to show them that legends are more than just stories. To show them what fear truly is."

"Very well", replied Nightshade, "I will go and gather my kin. I will return to Warlock's Rest in ten days, a mighty Flight at my command."

"Excellent", spoke Charaun as his eyes flared with purple energy.
"Then in ten days the world will know war unlike any it has seen since the times of old."

 

[Byrd Man]

Germany

"Will you hurry up!"

Dante Giovanni, also know as The Docktore carefully walks backwards. In his hands he carries a brown sack carrying black powder, he carefully tilts the back and it spills the powder on the ground, it forms a neat black line all the way up the mountain.

"Sorry, sir!"

Watts, The Docktore's heavy set assistant comes bouncing down the mountain towards his boss.

"No time for excuses! It's time to see how it works!"

The Docktore places the bag on the ground and bends down to look at the line.

"There. The Chinaman's so called 'Devil Powder' should be a good enough starter for the chemical."

"And what is the chemical again?"

The Docktore rolls his eyes as he reaches into one of his coat's many pockets and removes one of his first inventions, a piece of flint and a small, spring-loaded, metal poker. All he need do is release the spring and the poker strikes the flint, causing sparks to shoot out. He named the device a "Liteur"

"How many times must I tell you? It's something I found outside of Turin. Highly unstable. All we need to do is set a fire to it and it goes up. I was thinking of calling it something scientific. Nightro-Glycerin?"

"Sounds good to me."

"And it should. I did create it after all."

Bending down to the black powder, The Docktore releases the spring on his liteur and sparks shoot out, igniting the black powder and sending fire shooting up the mountain towards the chemical.

"If I am correct, and I probably am. When you mix the Nightro-Glycerin with the devil powder you should have....."

BOOM!

The whole mountain shakes as the Nightro-Glycerin and gunpowder create a lethal combination.

"Yes! Aha! I did it!"

"...Sir?"

"Who need spells when you have brains? Ha!"

"S-..sir?"

"They were all wrong about me, Watts! I'm greater than they can ever imagine!"

"SIR!"

"What is it?"

Watts points behind The Docktore, the explosion rattled the ground so much that rocks and rubble are now rushing down the mountain to meet them.

"Avalanche!"

"....I don't know how, but I blame all this on you."

The two of them turn on their heels and run as the rolling rocks race behind them.

England
Two Weeks Later

"See, with these devices. You do not need magic!"

A large group on English peasents stand wide mouthed as The Docktore and Watts give their show.

"Bear wtiness to the magic of science!"

Watts hands The Docktore two metallic gauntlets, a nozzle and hose on the wrists, the hoses connect to two small jars containing nothing..or so it would appear.

"Thank you, now using these gauntlets. I will demonstrate the power of instant fire!"

He slips the gauntlets on to his hands and opens up the side valves on the nozzles.

"In these jars, a mysterious gas I have collected from the far reaches of the Earth. With this gas, I can put the world's greatest wizard to shame with just a spark."

Watts carefully places a liteur next to one of the nozzles, with a small spark the nozzle comes to life with fire.

"Behold! The power of the gods, in my hands!"

The crowd stares, their jaw hanging as the fire erupts out of the nozzle.

"What do you say, now? Is science not greater than magic?"

One man finally speaks up.

"DEVIL!!!"

Out of nowhere, rotten fruit and vegetables pelt the two as the crowd turns to an angry mob.

"Watts! Prepare the wagon, I'll take care of them."

The Docktore points his fire gauntlet at the crowd, they flee and scurry as the fire nips at their heels.

"Back, you feinds! Back I say!"

He laughs as the crowd runs for their lives. Suddenly, the fire dissapears as the gas in the jar runs out. The Docktore starts to back up as the mob walks towards him.

"Uhh...yeah..."

In a blur of motion, Watts and the horse-drawn wagon come in between The Docktore and the mob, The Docktore grabs on to the back of the wagon as it passes. He shakes his fist in triumph as the wagon rolls down the road.

"Haha! Nobody bests the Docktore!"

He climbs up next to Watts as the horse thunders down the small road.

"I really hate when that happens. Why are they so ignorant, Watts? Why won't they accept that there is something greater than what they can see?"

"I don't know sir. So where are we going next?"

"Back to mainland Europa, lad. And then North, to Scandinavia."

"What's in Scandinavia?"

"People willing to learn..oh and comely Viking wenches. They're as big as your head...the ah, brains...of the people.....yes...the people and their brains which we wish to enlighten....Not the wenches."

 

[EasternComfort]

Enki was surprised that Callista was not at the spa like he had been for so long. The life of a Noble woman was not for of surprises in fact Callista confessed on many occasions it was as exciting as a turtle race. Considering that she was a woman "on the block" Enki should have known better, perhaps he was still in denial. Her father was an honorable man but to allow his daughter to marry a foreigner especially one not of royalty would be most certainly an impossibility. He tried to block it out of his mind he only wished to see her again hold her in his arms. It had been two years and alot of jobs since he last saw her and he was stuck in anticipation.

"Spare some change young master?" A begger said as he approached Enki.

In Rome as in most places the people walked by the poor as if they didn't exist. It was there mistake. Since the poor walked all day from one area to the next they better than anyone knew where to find people and in Enki's line of work it was a precious commodity.

"I'm looking for Callista Cicero." he said handing the begger a coin.

"Ah I believe the young lady is home now but if you have business with her make it quick because I hear that her father is bringing home a potential suitor in the later hours."

Enki felt like running at full speed to reach his love before her father but instead walked. In a place like Rome running was a sure fire way to draw attention to yourself. Scaling the wall he stood just outside her window watching her comb her hair. She was even more beautiful than he had remembered as he lightly tapped on her window.

"You aren't supposed to be here" she said loudly glancing back at her mirror to continue grooming her hair.

Enki smiled.

"Typical."

 

[SuperFerret]

Edited.

 

[trustyside-kick]

Some people would call me a scholar, but I just choose wisely with my words. Others would call me a man of god, a preacher. I have my beliefs, and fear the Almighty for his presence is indeed here, but I do not praise him. Many would go to call me a prophet, believing that my stories fortell possible future events, but I merely re-tell tales of the past, no trickery in this.

I am none of these. So who am I? That matters not. I am untamable, bearing ties to no one. My alliegance lies not with the elves, nor the dwarves, nor even the humans. My heritage, bears little, next to no importance in why I am here. I have been away from home, for so long, after I have told my tale, you too will have forgotten me, for I will not be here afterwards. I am a recluse. I am a hermit. I am a nomad. I am an outcast. But you may call me Caed.

***

...The metal is almost finished. It is but cooling now as Kelvin has his sword laying out on the table before him. Kelvin has but one last thing he must do to it before it cools: just as it finishes cooling off. He clasps his hands together, and rubs them gently back and forth. Words start to utter barely a whisper from his lips as he starts to pick up speed as he continues to utter these words, and a sort of glow emits from Kelvin's hands.

"Let the strength of my ancestors be guided to my hands. And let their fury and might channel through me, so that I may act as merely the chalice of their power."

The glow in Kelvin's hands start to light up brightly, almost blinding and he separates them. He looks at them, almost smiling, and then clears his throat as he takes a more serious tone as he places both hands at both the hilt and tip of the sword.

"And let that power be funneled into this blade. And let their fury and might channel through me, as I use this blade to undo wrongs, and only do good."

There is a flash of light, and a crest starts to become engraved into the edge of the blade: a Caldorian crest. Marvelling that his efforts had worked, Kelvin turns his attention back at the piece of armor which cools in water, and then looks at his own two hands. He smiles. He puts on two gloves as he walks over to the piece of armor to pull it out of the cooling water.

***

Drake and the armed peasants are able to fend fairly well when they encounter two howlers, but they lose one in the process. After the howler bites one of the peasants in the torso, Drake drives one of his swords into the beasts back, blocking the slash of the other with his second sword. He then kicks the beast back, pulling his sword out of the now wounded howler and the rest of the peasants in anger for their loss of a friend go to work with the hindered animal.

Drake starts to get into a defensive stance as the second howler encircles him, its growl growing more fierce as it hears the dying welp of the other howler. Drake quickly turns his head to the side, smirking as one of the townspeople pulls their pitchfork out of the dead howlers neck, and then he brings his attention back at the still present threat.

The howler stops encircling Drake as it finds itself surrounded by Drake and the townspeople. With one final attempt to survive, it jumps at Drake and lands ontop of him. However as he fell, Drake's two swords went clearn through its chest. Grunting, Drake throws the animal corpse off of him and stands up.

"You see. These are merely mortals...these demons. They die by the sword just like any other vile creature. Now, take back your village! Drive them back!"

The peasants all raise their weapons cheering, and following Drake as they continue to fight for their village.

***

"...And let my ancestors watch over me and protect me. Shield this armor as if it were me. Let not an ogre, nor a golem's own might be enough to crack its brilliant shine. It is but an extension to my own skin, and so it will be indestructable."

The piece of armor starts to glow, and it too resonates a shine so blinding as it is beautiful and a crest starts to become magically engraved into it; the same Caldorian crest. And so, Kelvin slips on the piece of armor, and walks over to where he laid down his enchanted sword. He picks it up, and slides it into its holster. He stops for a moment, somehow he was able to find a peace of mind to utilize his enchanment spells...but he couldn't simply block it all out. The ear-bleeding howls and screeches of the howlers that run rapid through the villain along with the horrifying screams of their victims remain audible to him.

He takes a deep breath, and opens the door. He draws his sword, adjust his piece of armor, and walks out the Forgery...
​

 

[Green Lantern]

"Yes, I would prefer success over defeat", quipped Rothgar.
"It has been a long time since last I saw my homeland. So this journey will do my heart good. Besides, I owe you my life for the save."

"And it is an honor to meet you, Your Majesty", Rothgar stated with a respectful bow.

"And if by my life or death I can help you regain your crown", the Northman stated, his face turning to a sudden serious look, "I shall."

"Save the formalities, Rothgar, my friend. For my crown still rests on the head of the undeserving. Until I win it back, I have lost my right to its claim."

A day of travel passed and the two weary travelers arrived at the port town of Bremerhaven. Breathing wisps of white vapor in the cold winter air, Slieken threw open the door to an inn.

"Come, friend. I believe I owe you an ale."

 

[Johnny Blaze]

"Save the formalities, Rothgar, my friend. For my crown still rests on the head of the undeserving. Until I win it back, I have lost my right to its claim."

A day of travel passed and the two weary travelers arrived at the port town of Bremerhaven. Breathing wisps of white vapor in the cold winter air, Slieken threw open the door to an inn.

"Come, friend. I believe I owe you an ale."

"HA! Now that sounds like a plan", laughs Rothgar as he gives Slieken a freindly slap on the back.

Rothgar moved towards his horse and climbed into the saddle.

"Well, Slieken, it seems that there are some extra horses available", Rothgar spoke as he looked around at the dead bodies of the merchants.
"Might as well put them to use."

 

[Johnny Blaze]

Charaun stood on the outskirts of Warlock's Rest as he watched the Flight disappear into the horizon as night began to descend on the countryside.

The lich let out a chuckle as he watched the dozens of wyrms, led by Nightshade, travel to loose the first strike in his war against Europe.
And this first strike was one carefully planned out by Charaun.
Not only will he devastate a powerful city of mages, but he would get a manner of justice as well.

Tonight, Athens burns...

--------------------

The waxing moon, though hiding behind some clouds, illuminated the fields outside of Athen's wall just enough for Diokles to see. He had served with Athen's army for many years now, as his father did before him and as his son will when he comes of age. For the past few nights, Diokles has been given guard duty on the Athenian wall. Ever the patriot, Diokles accepted the duty proudly. Though he did silently lament at the boredom of it all.
Diokles yawned and leaned his spear and shield against the wall. Reaching to the heavens, Diokles stretched his joints and muscles trying to wake them up. But, as he looked to the sky, Diokles froze, his eyes wide with horror.
Quickly picking up his spear and shield, Diokles shouted the alarm just before the large green dragon's acidic breath melted the flesh from his bones.

The two dozen dragons descended upon a surprised Athens under the cover of darkness, destroying every building and killing any living thing in their path. In the first minute, many died still sleeping in their beds as dragons came crashing down atop of houses. But it was not long before the entire populace emerged from their slumber to find death had come. Soldiers scrambled to fight the draconic horde, and the mages of the city quickly organized and took the attack to the legendary reptiles.

A series of lightning bolts cut across the street to strike a young black dragon on it's side. The beast howled in pain and toppled over to it's side, dead. But the four wizards who had slayed the beast were soon roasted alive by the flames of a low-flying red wyrm. A dozen city guards shook as bolts of electricity coursed through their bodies from the two blue drakes.
And so the battle raged on. And though the mages and soldiers of Athens managed to kill a handful of dragons, the wyrms were quickly decimating the entire population.

Through it all, Nightshade focused her attention on a single structure: The Athenian School of The Art. Charaun was specific in his request that there be nothing left of this building. So, along with four other wyrms, Nightshade attacked the school, slaughtering many would-be mages.
But to her surprise, she found no resistance at all. Instead, after the initial surprise attack, it seemed the school had mysteriously and suddenly been abandoned.

It had to be the wizards, Nightshade thought. They knew that they were defeated, so they began teleporting all they could away to safety. All through the city people began to disappear as the remaining spell-casters did all they could to safely whisk away anyone they could.
The dragons' attack quickly intensified as the beasts tried to quickly slaughter anything they could before they make it to freedom.

Within the hour, Athens was no more. Every structure of the city now lay in ruins, and every living thing that hadn't been fortunate enough to escape lay dead amid the rubble. The dragons looted what they could, and gorged themselves of the bodies of the slain. Then, as quietly and quickly as they came, the wyrms took flight once more, disappearing into the night...

 

[Green Lantern]

"HA! Now that sounds like a plan", laughs Rothgar as he gives Slieken a freindly slap on the back.

Rothgar moved towards his horse and climbed into the saddle.

"Well, Slieken, it seems that there are some extra horses available", Rothgar spoke as he looked around at the dead bodies of the merchants.
"Might as well put them to use."

"I have no need for a horse of this quality..." Slieken said as he put two fingers to his mouth. A shrill whistle filled the air, and within minutes, the serene quiet was broken by the pounding of hooves getting closer and closer. As Avalei appeared on the horizon, Slieken smiled and turned to his companion. "For I have a fine horse of my own."

The ranger's horse slowed down as it approached the travelers, its white hair shimmering in the early sun. The horse whinied as she came to a stop, tossing her mane and bowing her head for Slieken to have an easy mount. Slieken effortlessly threw himself on the horse.

"I think it may be safer for us to travel by land."

 

[Johnny Blaze]

"I have no need for a horse of this quality..." Slieken said as he put two fingers to his mouth. A shrill whistle filled the air, and within minutes, the serene quiet was broken by the pounding of hooves getting closer and closer. As Avalei appeared on the horizon, Slieken smiled and turned to his companion. "For I have a fine horse of my own."

The ranger's horse slowed down as it approached the travelers, its white hair shimmering in the early sun. The horse whinied as she came to a stop, tossing her mane and bowing her head for Slieken to have an easy mount. Slieken effortlessly threw himself on the horse.

"I think it may be safer for us to travel by land."

"Safer", chuckled Rothgar, "you mean boring."

"But I'm sure we'll be able to find some trouble if we look hard enough", smiled Rothar.
"After all, it is a long ride to Svealand."

"Well, Slieken", spoke Rothgar as he motioned with a wave of his hand, "after you."

 

[Byrd Man]

Norrland

The small horse-drawn cart carrying The Docktore and Watts rolls across the hard, snowy ground.

"Are we there yet?"

"No, sir..."

"Okay..........how about now?"

"No..."

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

The cart comes to a stop in a small viking village. The Docktore looks around and smiles.

"A fine village, indeed. It even has it's own minstrel!"

Just then, a young man walks around the cart, singing and playing.

"Ahhhhh!!!!! Ahhhhhh!!!!!!
​

We come from the land of the ice and snow,
from the midnight sun where the hot springs blow.
The hammer of the gods
Will drive our ships to new lands,
To fight the horde, singing and crying:
Valhalla, I am coming!"

"You there, boy. Tell me who rules this land."

The minstrel stops and nods at The Docktore's request.

"That would be the kind King Skullsplitter."

"And where would we find him?"

"To the west, there is where his throne lies. You can't miss it."

The Docktore smiles in approval and flips the boy a gold coin.

"Don't spend it all in one place. Now, Watts...to the west!"

Watts gives a disapproving look as he clucks the horses forward. He waits until the minstrel is out of sight before he speaks.

"Is this really a good idea? These viking are savages."

"Pssh, they're just like us. Looking to make it through another day and survive."

"They pillage, plunder, and destroy.."

"So they like to have a good time who doesn't?"

"Their king is named Skullsplitter!"

"Probably just a childhood nickname. Like my brother, Lumpy."

The two men look in awe as they pass a wooden pike with a half dozen severed heads shoved onto it.

"Okay...so it's not a childhood nickname.....what matters is that the good king's gold is shiny and his wenches are kind. Now, to the west! What was that song the minstrel was singing? Oh yes, Valhalla I am coming!!!"

"Sir...that's the Viking afterlife..."

"Well, ****e...."

 

[Green Lantern]

Grsh'na, Chieftain of Orcs

Light shines down on the rag tag encampment in the low valley. As the residents of that encampment stirred, the air surrounding them was filled with hoarse grunts, and gutteral growls.

In the most substantial tent, a large orc rolled over avoiding the light that threatens to keep him from his sleep. The tribe's day had come to an end, but light still made it difficult to sleep. Grsh'na drifted to sleep in the shadows of his tent.

Hours Later:

Grsh'na awoke with a start, as noise of battle flooded his ears. His adrenaline surged as he bellowed loudly for the tribe to hear. He grabbed his halbred axe from beside his bedroll and grunted loudly, for a good fight was always welcome.

As he threw open his tent, he looked out to see several knights on horseback, most bearing a standard of a red cross on their shields. They were mowing down his tribe by the lot, and Grsh'na screamed angrily, drawing the attention of the nearest knight.

The man reared his horse and brought the stallion around to bear down upon the Orc chieftain. As the animal and rider charged at him, Grsh'na growled loudly, loud enough infact to scare the horse. The animal whinnied and bucked, throwing its rider to the ground nearby as it ran away from the Orc. Grsh'na laughed as the man fumbled for his sword, obviously afraid of the thing approaching him with a rusted axe. The knight managed to get his sword from his scabbard just as the axe came down on his neck, clanging against the metal of his helmet as it dented, breaking the bones in the man's neck.

Grsh'na looked around to see more of his orcs finally starting to turn the tide on the rest of the knights.

"Come you pansies! I think you fight like elven! Fight!"
​

When the battle was over, not human was left alive, not a head remained on their frail bodies, and not a horse was left unbutchered for the meals of the tribe. Black smoke rose from the valley, as the dead bodies of the knights burned in a large pile at the center of the camp. Erstwhile, the orcs ripped into the flesh of the dead horses, blood running from their fanged mouths. After their feast on the horse meat, Grsh'na growled, garnering the attention of the rest of the orcs.

"We go north! This land plagued with manflesh!"

The orcs gathered up the heads of their enemies and shoved them on to pikes. The orcs with these brutal displays of victory marched at the front of the tribe, scaring off all civilians who saw them coming. Those who were unfortunate enough to not see them, well lets leave it at that.

 

[Green Lantern]

"Safer", chuckled Rothgar, "you mean boring."

"But I'm sure we'll be able to find some trouble if we look hard enough", smiled Rothar.
"After all, it is a long ride to Svealand."

"Well, Slieken", spoke Rothgar as he motioned with a wave of his hand, "after you."

For days, they had ridden eastward without even an encounter. Both the adventurers were beginning to become restless. On the eighth night, in the fields of Polska, Slieken looked to his friend and shrugged.

"Perhaps, you were right. This way has been boring."

Off in the distance, Slieken's ears picked up a noise. A drumbeat approaching from the south. The elf squinted in that direction and his eyes went wide with excitement.

"I opened my maw too soon, friend. Ready yourself for battle, because battle is marching this way."