A better story, no title yet.

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The whole story so far!!

A fantasy story, maps and other stuff to come soon, Here go's:


Prelude

Monday, 18th of April. Year: 592. 5th Age. Stonefire, Diplomacy City: Palace

‘Your Majesty, a messengers here,’ the chamberlain told her as she finished of her letter to her father.
‘Bring him in,’ she said without looking up.
The door opened and the messenger walked in and bowed his head, ‘your majesty.’
‘You’re from Ancients mine?’ He nodded. ‘So, what news?’
‘Majesty, Lord Char Ital says, we have stuck gold and found the hidden drawings. There’s a prophecy that dates back to the time of the dragons. It says an evil will come forth again thirty-five score years from back then. We say that this is sometime in the next 5 years but the records don’t show exactly when. We also found that it would come through a gate at midnight at winter’s middle. We are in need or more miners to find out more, can you spare us 300 more? That is all he says.’
‘You have done well,’ the Elven queen said as she gave him a silver noble. ‘Arthur! Call the council now, for one hour past middle sun.’

* * *

The grand hall was the masterpiece of the palace. Many rows of seats where positioned around the central floor for eating and debating politics. In the center was the royal chair where the king of the dwarves sat for political debates. Numerous Tapestries and paintings lined the wall.
Elves, Dwarves and Kobolds started filing into the hall. Elves walked down to the back, Dwarves to the right and Kobolds on the left, each with a quickly made chair for the Kings and queen for the three nations. No one had a smile on his or her faces and chatter was extraordinary low.
Only once in known history had all three of these races had come together, in the age of the dragons and the destruction of the ancients.
The two kings and queen bowed to each other, and sat down, behind each the nobles of the lands sat down. When the hall was silent the queen of the elves stood up and slowly moved to the center, which was raised up. The royal chair had been removed for the council.
‘Last Age, seven hundred years ago, a great threat faced us. Dragons threatened to kill not just our cities but also our nations, our races and our world. But here, in this council chamber all those years ago stopped the threat, our nations drove the black dragons away,’ Queen Lath Në Töldra told the council. ‘Since then we have prospered, our nations spreading to the north and south. We live in harmony as brothers and sisters, but it is all being threatened by one thing. Something we’ve never seen or heard of before. We are being threatened with something far more deadly then dragons. We have no name for this evil. We have found a prophecy that was found in the ancient mine, which you know was a former ancient city rich with platinum. It says that sometime in the next five years the strike through a gate at midnight at winter’s middle.
‘The Humans continue to remain ignorant. The Goblins continue to kill themselves. The Centaurs are obsessed by their own power. We must find a way to stop them coming, or if not we must find a way destroy the evil. That is all I’m saying.’
The Queen moved back to her seat. The hall was silent with fear and astonishment at what they where going to face. The King of the Kobolds, Zarno, had his mouth open wide, until one of his friends nudge him.
The Dwarf king stood up and moved to the center and looked around the room, ‘I am willing to attack this evil but I, and my fellow king and queen need your help, we cannot attack without you, we cannot raise a army without you. Think about your children and what might be the world they live in if we don’t do our job, think about that. You might never have grandsons; you might be killed by something so terrible. And we need to you stop it. Do you want to stop it?’
‘Aye!’
‘Then let this meeting be adjured so that we may discuss the looming crises.’
* * *

The Golden Horse raced through the meadow. Wind trailed behind as the horse made for the coming river. The sound of a horse galloping behind made the rider of the golden horse go faster and faster. The gold skinned man kicked the horse’s sides trying to make the horse faster. Trees started racing by as the river came into view. The chasing horses were drawing nearly, only about a hundred feet behind.
The gold horse came into a clearing that led to the river, when suddenly an arrow shot into the riders back. The rider fell off, but the horse kept going and the pursuer swore. He jumped of his horse as it slowed down and went to the dead rider.
The rider was wearing a hood that kept his face covered. His hands were icy cold; frostbite had appeared on his fingers. A massive medallion around his neck, in the shape of a dagger, opals and rubies were embedded into the middle.
The Pursuer looked into the rider’s pockets and found a piece of paper. He stared in shock at the letter and his body slumped down in horror of what he had just done.
The note fell from his hand and was slept away by the wind into the river. The Pursuer wept in sorry for he had done what no man or animal had ever done before. He had done the impossible, the evil, but also done well. He had caused not just the death of a man, but the death of countries, but also the life of many more. He had caused the end of the 5th Age…

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Chapter 1

Wednesday, 27th of April. Year: 592. 5th Age. Taren: Knowledge District.

A young boy raced done the street, swerving through busy people, dodging food stall and jumping over rubbish. He turned and found himself on the main road, which headed to the palace. He looked around to try and find his friend who he was chasing but saw no sign. He took a final look then realized that it was nearly school time. So once again he raced of done the road, it was easier on the main road as there was a lot more space so he didn’t knock into anyone. He rushed up the steps of his school and into the line outside his classroom for his teacher.
‘Just in time, Robert,’ another boy commented.
‘Is Skipp here?’ Robert replied.
‘Nah, he’ll be in trouble. Shh, there’s Mr. Royce,’ whispered Nelson.
The teacher walked done the line of students counting them and marking them of a roll, ‘where is Skipp?’ he asked, ‘Anyone?’
‘That’s two marks for him, that’ll teach him not to be late again. Into class now, no talking,’ he said a lot louder then needed.
The class filed in, and sat in there seats, Robert got out his workbook. The teacher went around and handed out the quills for the day.
‘Now today we’re be learning about the line of Prince Martin and his contributions to the modern day, he was the great founder of the city Taren, changing it from a hamlet to the thriving city of today. He also build the stunning palace which I have had the great privilege of going to and meeting his and her royal highness. It was a splendid palace with tapestries, paintings, sculptures and much more. The painting on the left when I entered was made by….’
This was always the most boring part of the day for Robert, history. It was just endless nonsense about useless junk; from Princes to the way they built the three bridges. Mr. Royce also kept going on about his trips to the palace and his distant nobility and how he shouldn’t be teaching Robert and his classmates but that he did it out of generosity.
Skipp finally arrived through the door and his face whitened as he realized what his consequence was going to be for being late.
‘So. You’re late again. Twice this month, shocking, I think you need two marks,’ Skipps face lost all colour as he heard Mr. Royce, ‘now and here, where everyone can see what stupid mistake mister skippy does. Put your hands on the table. No the other way around, we still need you to be able to write, don’t we,’ the class snickered, almost silently.
Thwack!
Thwack!
‘You had better not be late again or it’ll be five for you. Now sit down and lets get on about Prince Martin’s son Albert. He had 4 sons which….’
Once again Roberts mind drifted away from boring history. He hoped he could get away from this school and go to another one. But most in Taren where as strict of stricter then Royce’s Training House. It was in the southern half of the city just south of the noble’s quarters. It was a run down house that Me. Royce bought to start his teaching in. A swarm of people came to the school as most couldn’t get into any other schools as they required money which was mainly for merchants sons and daughters. Roberts mother sent him here straight away, but after the first day he instantly hated it.
It was a half hour walk away from his home on the other side of town. It was a fairly big city with about twenty-five thousand people living there. A large river spanned from the north to the south that had three bridges across it. Barges also took you across but where slower and more expensive.
The only relief for Robert at school was his friend Skipp, who he walked (or chased) to school and from school. They were best friend even when they sometimes get each other a mark.
‘Robert!’ He gave a start as he saw his teacher leaning towards him. ‘If you don’t listen in class what is the point of being here? I’m giving you three marks and then sending you away and you will never come back. Put your hands on the table.’
Thwack! The pain tore through Roberts’s hands as he tried in vain not to show any emotion. Burning pain surged up his arms as if his hands were put into molten lava.
Thwack! Burning pain once again tore through him, more violently then before. Robert yelped in pain. Tears started coming from his eyes.
Thwack! His hands splayed blood everywhere. He moved towards the bathroom to wash his hands, but Mr. Royce intercepted him, ‘you aren’t a part of this school anymore so you can’t use my bathroom. Get out before I count to five. One, two, three…’
Robert raced out down the steps and onto the main street and ran towards the river. Blood splayed everywhere, but he got to the river and put his hands in, even through it caused him considerable pain. He stayed down there until his hands stopped bleeding and made his way back home.
Robert felt that something was wrong, he thought it might have been his cut from the school but he was sure that it wasn’t. He felt wrongness was everywhere except in the water where he washed himself. He was trying to figure out what it was when something blunt hit him in the back sending him onto the ground. His head knocked against the pavement, spilling blood.
He turned his head and saw a black man with a hood crouching over him with his hand moving towards his face, Robert tried to yell but nothing came out of his mouth. The hand touched him and it was icy and cold.
Roberts’s vision swirled around and he went into blackness.