Prelude to War

[Quinticus]

Part One: Discovery

 

 

He hated this land something fierce. More than he hated the land, though, he hated the people. To him they were disgusting. The stupid barbarians were always at war with each other for nothing other than territory. He hated them with Entropy’s wrath.

 

As he broke from cover into the river just south of Grubani’s Styks Swap, he turned southeast crouching beside a rock formation from which the river sprang thinking of the story of the great battle of Grubani his grand father had told him as a child. On impulse he had entered the region from the border of Naralik. The terrain had changed from the humid swamp to grasslands littered with rock formations weathered by millennia of harsh weather. There was a sprinkling of trees here and there, but not much for good cover. He would have to wait until nightfall in order to minimize his exposure.

 

"Something’s amiss,†he quietly muttered to himself as he spotted a mast on the horizon. A ship on land? That made no sense at all, especially this far north. The only place on the peninsula that had docks was Omlinor. Omlinor was on the southern peak of the peninsula, quite a distance away. He wondered who would risk the raids of the Ywarstav barbarians by building so close. The shipyard must be new because the Ywarstav had a tendency to slaughter any who infringed on their territory. These people were defiantly trespassing since the Ywarstav clan was on the other shore of the peninsula and just a little south. He decided that he would wait until nightfall then sneak closer to get a better view of those who going to lose their lives very shortly. He would only have to wait a few hours.

 

Waiting for nightfall, he had a rationed dinner and entertained the idea that he might just get to see one of the legendary battles of the Barbarians. It might just be quite a spectacle to see the barbarians crush each other, or their new neighbors for that matter. Even though they were repulsive, he was always enthusiastic about watching combat. It would be good time to study their tactics.

 

Of course tactics were not his job, he was an assassin. Ascertaining potential enemy tactics was for spies; his job was to prevent the employment of tactics by eliminating those who ordered their use. He thought on what his purpose was in this mission. Why would Lord Whitestone send him this far south to gather intelligence on the barbarians? Moreover, he couldn’t figure out why they would send an assassin instead of a spy.

 

Night soon came and his shadowy clothing began to blend with the darkening background. He stood from where he had been contemplating and was off into the mid-length grass. Even though he couldn’t see the mast on the horizon he could almost feel it getting bigger and beginning to loom over him. He was suddenly struck with a strange feeling. It wasn’t a feeling of anticipation, it was more than that. He felt the ethereal presence of magic. He could smell it in the wind and could almost see a soft luminescence from where intangible mana had be transformed into palpable workings of magic. Something was definitely afoot.

 

As he got closer and the luminescence brightened, he realized that the ship was no longer where it had been before. In fact, it wasn’t there at all. He crouched and gazed out on a patch of grass that slowly transformed into a beach. To the horizon out to sea the terrain had the faint iridescent light of magic. The waves breaking on the sand cast an unnatural glitter that he found somewhat disturbing. It was almost as if the air sparkled with every crash of a wave.

 

 

He had aquired an ability to detect where magic had been used in his years in the school of magic. The land before his eyes was saturated with its beautiful ethereal essence. Someone had destroyed the ship, which must have been why it was no longer where it had been. But why use so much energy to destroy a single ship? He could see for miles on a clear night like this, and as far as he could see had been touched with a magic of some sort. A waste of energy like that didn’t make sense. Enough magic had been harnessed to melt a village if not more.

 

The implications of it all were terrifying. There wasn’t a single mage he knew that could control that much power without burning him or herself out. He wondered if the Ywarstav had something to do with it. They had their shamans, but they never had the kind of training a real mage had. Their knowledge was passed down from teacher to pupil in a single line succession. At least that’s what the books at the school had said…perhaps the books were wrong.

 

Still something felt wrong about the whole thing. Something foreign had infringed on an extremely territorial people’s land, and then disappeared. That something disappeared by a great feat of magic that neither of the peoples of this region could procure. Finally, neither of the peoples had known of the invasion of the lands they so regularly fought over. If they had recognized an invader, there would be nothing left of them—nothing left of them in a different sense than what was now. The land and sea before him now would be ablaze with battle. The dead would litter the ground and any building effort would be razed to the ground. There was no evidence of that sort, and any sign of life had just been erased.

 

The assassin could feel his apprehension rising the longer he stayed crouched in his position. Despite the darkness of night, he felt exposed in the open like this. As he turned to leave he felt a faint rumble under his feet. He stopped. A second later he felt another, then another. It was too late to leave now, he was about to have an encounter. By the feel of the vibrations under his feet, he could tell that it was going to be an unfriendly one.

 

He glanced over his shoulder to see the silhouette of the local Cyclopes approaching and found himself hoping his dark garb would be enough to keep the creature from finding him. He’d used the traditional musk to hide his human scent, but it had been days since he last applied it. It was doubtful that the musk would work now. The Cyclopes was getting closer, so he calmly remained still. Due to their single eye, Cyclopes’ have poor depth perception. He could use that if needed, but to make up for deprived depth perception their eyesight was almost always perfect, day and night.

 

The Cyclopes stopped and sniffed the night air. The assassin’s breath caught in his throat as he tensed to make a getaway. He’s onto my scent, He thought as he conjured the necessary essences for a Harm spell into his hand. He planned to Harm the Cyclopes and run as it recovered from the invisible spell. He didn’t want to make a scene for any possible unwanted viewers in the area battling the gargantuan beast.

 

As he extended his hand to release the spell, the night sky exploded with a brilliant orange light. The air shimmered as a ball of liquid fire appeared, seemingly from nowhere, hurdling toward the beast. The commotion ripped his attention from the assaulted Cyclopes to where fire had come from. Four more followed in the subsequent seconds, leaving the air rippling. It was as if he were standing before a great wall of quicksilver. Each time a ball of flame had come through, the wall faded to translucence. During these briefest of intervals he caught a glimpse of the ship that had disappeared.

 

Concerned with the allusions of it, he was dimly aware of the Cyclopes hitting the ground and hardly felt the tremble. An illusion! He told himself. The mana saturation is an illusion spell! No one on Seridia knows how do make such spell. And there’s no way in hell there’s anyone on this continent has enough power to pull one off of this magnitude.

 

He gathered his composure and studied the area around him, noticing the charred remains of the Cyclopes. The wind blew off the sea, dashing away the smell of cooked meat and replaced it with a smell of something else. Now he understood what it was that felt so amiss. It was the smell. When the wind came from the south east, it had carried the smell of freshly cut timber and the soft sound of clanking metal. Timber for a ship and hammers hitting nails.

 

Silently he moved toward the corpse to inspect the damage as he pondered what had just taken place. The Cyclopes wasn’t as big as he had originally anticipated. From the length of it he guessed it to be adolescent. It carried a small purse and was unarmed. He wasn’t sure if the blood on the tattered, unburned remains of the shirt were the Cyclopes’ or were a recent victim's.

 

After a few moments of inspection he felt, rather than saw, the air ripple again as two silhouettes came through the barrier. Swords drawn, they made their way toward the fallen body. The pair chatted loudly unbeknownst to the fact that they were being watched from without the boundary.

 

“Let’s hurry this up,†one growled. “I have to visit the latrine!â€

 

“This I what I get for listening to you, death bag duty.†the other muttered angrily.

 

Once again the assassin tensed. This time he could get away without being seen, but information was worth more than the risk this time. He still had the essences in his hand and he centered himself once again. He waited until the two approached and began to spread out to loot the corpse. They walked around the body once examining for bags and, as luck would have it, were coming around to meet close to the place he was crouched. He drew his dagger in preparation.

 

“Get a load of this!†this the first cried with excitement. He had picked up and opened the purse.

 

“s’in it?†The other replied, shuffling over to have a look.

 

“Looks to be a dozen gold pieces and a medallion that kind of looks like that smeg assassin’s.â€

 

“He’s no smeg. You just ‘ad to go ‘n get on ‘is bad side. Now lookit where we’re at?â€

 

Instinctively the assassin clasped at his neck. He then realized he wasn’t wearing his medallion. He had forsaken that heirloom long ago. Who is this other assassin and what medallion do they speak of? There were no medallions given to those accepted into the Guild.

 

The two men began walking around the corpse searching for any other fallen treasures. He crouched lower near the dead Cyclopes’ arm. It was time to spring his trap. He sprang up and the thrust a hand into the darkness loosing his spell, silencing the man to his right in pain. A soft grunt of surprise was all the other could manage before the assassin’s blade spun around severing his wind pipe. The assassin completed his spin, facing the victim still struggling through the pain of the spell as the other man fell to his knees in desperation. The victim put out a hand, imploring for aide. He grabbed the hand and held it up for a closer look as he cut the victim’s throat with the same blade that dispatched the other man.

 

The tattoo on the back of the hand said it all…he was going to find out what was afoot.

 

 

 

Part 2

Lord Keltom Whitestone paced his chambers for what seemed like the thousandth time that night. It could probably well have been, too. Since he had sent Lasicue to Grubani he hadn’t slept well, it had weighed heavily on his conscience. He had thought his sister was mad before he’d sent the preliminary spies. They’d reported some unusual activity in the area. It was then that he acquiesced to her demand that he send the best he could find. He thought it rather ironic that the best had been her very own husband. He wondered if she would have made the same demand if she knew before hand.

 

The family had always known about her prophetic propensities. She had always been reticent about it because it set her apart from the family. Mother and Father had shunned her when she mentioned the ability. He was of the like mind, though he still loved her dearly. He was always fearful that if she caused a commotion because of it she would get hurt. Now it wasn’t just her that could get hurt because of it, it was her whole family that she’d put in danger. Now Lasicue couldn’t be there to protect them should something happen.

 

He’d considered finding another to send to Grubani, someone more expendable. He would have if he wasn’t so positive in Vermor’s ability, but he hadn’t earned his Masterman’s name for nothing.

 

Instead learning the stately duties of his inevitable succession to the throne, Gier Vermor spent the youth of his life as a student of war. First born in the family he forced his way into military functions, which seemed to naturally suit him. Younger than most, he was promoted to captain and given leadership over a thousand men. He had attained his leadership out of excellence, not because he was nobility. He was good at killing, it was almost a natural thing to him.

 

It was during Gier’s years as captain that Keltom first met him. He had been a stunningly fit man, for being of noble blood. His men were loyal to him because he didn’t carry himself like nobility. Those men would have followed him through the seven circles of hell. Many had actually preceded him on the field of battle, but he always did his best to limit his casualties. They would never hesitate in battle because of that. It was for that reason, and that of their loyalty, Keltom had met Gier. Keltom would often visit Vermor castle to discuss the troop’s loyalty and confidence.

 

King Vermor had given his late father the task of forming and training an elite group of warriors. His father perished before the task was finished, so it was left to Keltom. He completed the job with his Myrmidons, the greatest fighting force he’d ever witnessed in battle. They had out performed in every aspect that the king had outlined. Before he recognized the kings acceptance of the force, he was out to find ways to make sure the greatness wouldn’t go to their heads. To do that, he had brought his commanding officers of the unit with him to train under Gier and himself for a time.

 

During a joint training exercise they got a message from the castle about an emergency north of Vermor Castle. They were to take their companies and join with the king. When joined forces with the king, they learned that a hoard of monsters had raided Arbor Valley and was making their way to the castle. They had cut hoard off before they could reach the grasslands before the castle. It would be a good test to see what the companies had learned from each other because they were going to have to battle the monster invaders in the Elavro Mountains.

 

For two days they battled. The monster army was mainly comprised of armed goblins. Their command structure, however disorderly and tyrant-like, was mostly orcish overlords. The goblins natural submissive instincts were what kept the hoard together. They were too stupid to understand that and rebel against their abusive leaders. They also had a penchant for fighting and destruction with little inclination for saving their own lives.

 

The men the king had brought to battle were getting slaughtered. They were little more than boys that he, himself, had be out training when the messengers had come calling. Keltom and Gier took their men from one hot spot to another, hoping to keep the king’s lines in tact. It was a tedious and arduous task trying to maintain the lines of inferior soldiers.

 

On the eve of the second day, the monster army slipped an assassin goblin through the mountains and around the lines and managed hit the king with a poison dart. The king’s men killed the goblin and quickly took him to the medical staff that was on hand and did their best to keep the troops from knowing. By the end of the day and despite all their efforts, the king died from the poison. The staff was forced to tell the men.

 

Word of the death of the king spread through the ranks like wildfire, the men’s moral plummeted to a fatal low. When the monster army figured out that the king was dead, withdrew for the night, content to let the human army wallow in it’s cesspool of negative moral. The next morning they would have their defeat, and they would continue on their path of destruction.

 

He remembered the look in Gier’s eyes when he heard of his father’s death. It was a look of insurmountable rage. For what seemed an eternity he stood there trying to control the burning desire. It seemed like he was standing before a door and couldn’t decide if he wanted to step through or not. He seemed to have finally decided something when he grabbed his father’s sword, a family heirloom, and rushed out of the tent. He was not heard from nor seen until the next morning.

 

Keltom heard years later, after Gier had been accepted into the Assassin’s guild, that he left his father’s tent to visit the battle mage that had been sent for. Supposedly, he had the mage summon the soul of the goblin assassin back into it’s dead body. Then, it was rumored, that he made the goblin lead him into the enemies camp where he hunted down each of the commanding orc’s officers and decapitated them. After that he impaled the heads on spears and surrounded the orc’s tent with them. It was said that attached to one was note challenging the orc to single combat.

 

Whether it was true or not; Gier called out the orc in the morning. Gier seemed to be dwarfed by the orc, it wasn’t going to be a fair fight. Before the two gathered armies out on the plain before the castle, it seemed like hours but lasted only minutes. The orc, overconfident, made a mistake and swung his sword too high. Gier utilized the moment to lacerate a tendon on one of its lower legs, with his dagger. Once the orc was a more manageable height, he cut it clean in half at the midriff before severing an upraised arm and the head with the sword he had inherited only the day before.

 

He paused for only a moment after he killed the orc to watch the torso separate from the lower half and the head roll away. He held the bloodied sword up, acknowledging what was now his cheering army. He proceeded to thrust the sword, blade down, into the ground at his feet. It was left there wobbling in the light breeze, as he drew a second, long bladed knife. It was then that Keltom saw the raw rage that was in Gier’s eyes the day before come unleashed. In anger at their leader’s defeat the goblin army rushed the Gier and his men. With an intense cry of fury, he raced to meet the enemy lines and his army followed.

 

They won the battle that day and another every day for a week. Gier, along with Keltom and his men, forced the monster army back north through the mountains. They routed them all the way back to Arbor Valley. The people of Arbor Valley had formed a militia in case the monsters returned. When they did, they were sandwiched between the two forces.

 

All but the last of the monster hoard was demolished quickly and ruthlessly. The ones that escaped with their lives fled into the woods. The townspeople managed to capture a male goblin that sought to escape lurking about town, hunting for easy prey before it made off. Hands bound behind his back, he was brought before Gier to decide his fate.

 

He grunted as it was forced to his knees, a broken tooth grin cracked his face. Long wisps of hair from his nearly bald head blew across his green face. He stared into Gier’s eyes and gurgled a laugh.

 

Knew death bringer to thy father, he defiantly spat. Killed him good, did he? Much like great Lasicue! He cackled again, his breath laboring.

 

Like Lasicue, eh? Gier calmly responded. Sneering, He sure didn’t die like him. He died like one of your female pups. Crying as I crushed his wind pipe beneath my boot. It was Gier’s turn to smile. It wasn’t true of course, but the goblin’s attitude was vexing even to Keltom and Gier wanted to crush the spirit.

 

The goblin’s demure changed, from defiant to enraged. Wants you the great God, and have you he will! Hunt you down and miserable he will make you. These words he gave us! King of war hungers to make you suffer now!

 

Gier extended his hand to a townsman near him, beckoning for a weapon. The man handed him the only weapon he held, a hatchet.

 

Give our dear Lord of the Underworld, Mortos, a message for me. Gier commanded grimly. He waited until the goblin’s eyes met his own. With a grunt he burried the hatchet in it’s face.

 

Gier left a detachment of what was left of his father’s force at Arbor to protect the city until they could get an organized defense again. Keltom joined Gier in returning home and visiting the dead king’s burial. The castle waited with a silent grieve for the morning, when Gier was to be named king.

 

When the morning came, Gier was nowhere to be found. The only evidence of his passing from the house was a note pinned to the throne with a royal daggar. It read:

 

Dearest Family,

 

I have spent my life in the service of the Vermor name. Our family has always passed down the crown two swords, given to us by god’s. Muramassa and Masamune have been given to each heir to aid in service of the throne as he chose. Little is known of the propensities of these two blades, but i will tell you what I have learned. In Masamune lives the nurturing love needed to cultivate peace and prosperity in our land. It avoids death and destruction while seeking to preserve life. In Muramassa resides a presence that craves chaos; it hungers and attracts violence. With tenacity I sought to protect the House by the ways which are not suited for the ruling of a kingdom. Those ways reflect the vile nature of Muramassa and my rule would end in bloodshed. I fear not for my own life, but that of the kingdom our family has built upon for many generations. It is with a heavy heart that I renounce my heritage and my family name. The Crown now falls to the head of my brother, and the next in line, Geribald Vermor. From hence forth his word supercedes my own.

 

Long Life to Kingdom Vermor,

Lost son of Vermor

 

 

Three weeks later Gier showed up at Whitestone castle, seeking Keltom’s aid. He was no longer calling him self Gier Vermor, but had made up an alias. Under an assumed name, Vermillion, he had now come to Keltom looking for advice on seeking his revenge on Mortos. At a loss, Keltom suggested that vengeance of a violent nature would be furthering the god of war and destruction’s ambitions. That the only way to get back at him was to turn to another god. To give up his faith in Mortos and quit his worship would decrease his power. There was not much difference in the faith of one person, but if he could convertm the effect could be much greater. He suggested the priesthood of Zarin or Aluwen.

 

Merely three months into his service to this new god’s faith, renegade bandits attacked the small temple in Naralik. He quit the Order of Faith and traded his vengeance for love that he'd found in a woman he'd met. However, both being young and full of ambition, they parted ways with a promise to meet again once they were ready to settle down. She headed to Whitestone and Gier to Tarsengaard. He enrolled in the School of Magic and soon lost track of his puppy love, forgetting his promise to meet again with her. His life took a turn onto a more dangerous path after he left the school and placed a bid with the assasins guild. He was accepted and placed into apprenticeship immediately.

 

From that point his life became more complicated.

 

 

____________

Part Three

 

In the past week, Gier had seen more of the Grubani peninsula than he had ever cared to. He had also seen a few more sights he never thought he would see. One such sight was that of the encampment spread out before him. He’d only been counting for 2 days, and then he’d been estimating the counts. By his estimate, forty percent of the southern half of the peninsula was covered by the encampment. Nearly a hundred thousand had gathered, some of them were beings he had never seen before. From the information he had managed to attain, these beings were not from the world he had known. They had sailed here from another world, some place named Irilion. More arrived by the day via boats sailing into Omlinor. And a makeshift port near the shipyard in the middle of the peninsula.

 

On the second day after he learned of the illusion he had found a way to penetrate the barrier without alarming those who had constructed it. What he found behind the veil was more unsettling than what he’d recently discovered on land. For every creature that walked the land, two were aboard ships within the illusioned area. Many of them being deck hands and inferior sailormen on what he considered to be the largest fleet of ships he‘d ever seen. Most of the sailors were unskilled and inadept at their duties. However, by the looks of it, they had been conscripted from the locals. This told him that the fleet was relatively new.

 

However, the creation methods of the ships were a derivative of long dead theories on building ships of huge proportions. Gier had only seen mention of such processes at the School of Mages library where texts from prehistoric dates were stored and studied. Most of the ships were of a transport nature from what he could guess. The bellies of such ships were swollen and the decks closer to the water than those that he guessed to be of a military nature.

 

The ships equipped for military purposes seemed to be largely of the attacking nature. They were jugernaughts of vessels, with thinner sides and machinery attached. Dwarven rockets were sticking out of the sides like big metal fingers. Others had catapults and other object hurling machines. Still others had thick hulls near the bow shielded in metal for ramming. It was a wondrous, yet humbling sight.

 

If the sight of the ships was wondrous and humbling, then the rate at which they were produced was down right miraculous. Mages of some sort had summoned Cyclopes and trolls to carry the huge cuts of timber to site. Still other creatures, mainly orcs and dwarven slaves, manufactured the ships from the materials.

 

Once again Gier watched the sun set on a Grubani horizon. This time, however, he afforded himself a small fire. The comfort of a cooked meal was worth the risk of being discovered by the enemy. His excursion into the enemy’s encampment had been exhausting as it had required his attention to be at its sharpest for duration of his journey.

 

In the midst of gathering intelligence, he had even found a few occasions for assassinating various officers. Never missing a chance, he even took out a commander along with four close subordinates in one instance. If the assassin hadn’t been there to experience it, he’d have never believed that the commanding structure of a full military division could have been so unguarded.

 

Discipline in the encampment was almost non-existent, he had slain the entire company in broad daylight with almost less than a passing glance from passersby. Murder appeared to be a common occurrence within the ranks since only the strongest ruled. One only ruled by deposing the last leader in combat to the death. His act went scrutinized but unquestioned as onlookers considered Gier a soldier contending for his right to command. Gier wore a scowl as he strolled unchallenged from the gruesome scene.

 

The disorder of the camp lead back to one person, a elf named Torsage Danbane. He was the one in charge of the whole operation. This had come as a surprise to Gier as Torsage had been a comrade and good friend since they both were appointed to the assassins guild together. Gier, of course, hadn’t spoken to him in years due to his busy life. Now he contemplated on how an assassin could find his way to leading the biggest army Seridia had ever seen.

 

Gier stood in a rush, sword drawn. He had been so deep in thought that it was not until a cloaked figure stepped into the light of his small fire before he was aware of its presence. He gave the darkness beneath the hood a glare, and leveled his sword at the shape. “State your business or continue on,†He warned the figure.

A pale hand pulled down back the hood to reveal an elven face. His long blond hair shone in the firelight as a grin cracked the face that reminded Gier of a weasel.

 

“Now, is that any way to treat an old friend?†the man questioned.

 

Not lowering his sword or glare, he stared at the man. “I was just thinking about you, Torsage. Nothing good it would seem, though, since you do not appear to be doing the work of a friend.â€

 

“Come now,†He replied, “did you think we would never be on opposite sides? We’re killers for hire.â€

 

“I was under the impression that was the agreement the day we were given our appointment. I would not accept missions you were involved in, you would not accept missions I was involved with. It was an accord of friendship. What could possess you to bring an army against not only your own country, but against the whole of the continent?†He questioned. “It isn’t always about the money, either, especially since your parents are nobles of Tyrnwood.â€

 

A look so fast that Gier did not have the time to assess passed through Torsage’s eyes. “You’re asking of price? Unolas and Selain, two gods that were once mortal. Selain offered to show my the path of enlightenment he and Unolas discovered long ago. I would no longer have to live and kill by shadow. Transcention will be my reward.â€

 

It now struck Gier what he had missed in that first look, madness. “You actually think Selain, god of corruption, will keep his word? Do think any god would? There is nothing to bind them to it.â€

 

“A pact was made,†He retorted, “Between Selain and I.†He hefted an amulet hanging from his neck. An S was embossed in gold on the silver disc. “With this gift from Selain I already have great power. I alone have the capability to lead an army such as this. And it’s quite apparent that you are here to make that endeavor difficult. I won't tollerate such an effort. So, I suggest you concern yourself with your own affairs from now on,†He chuckled. “In fact, I’ve arranged a family event for you in the near future to assure that you keep out of business that will no longer be yours. And if you care to arrive in time, I advise you leave immediately.â€

 

Gier took a moment to consider Torsages words, his madness. He lowered his blade and stood as erect as he could. “Selain’s madness has infected you like a plague,†He hissed maliciously. “You’re no better than a mercenary, and the guild council will not stand for this. If my family is harmed by you or your men, I will end you. Demi-god or no, and I will personally see you to Mortos’ door if I have to. By involving my family you have made this travisty my business, and I will see to it that you pay for your association.†With that he cast a water essence into the fire, extinguishing the flame, and took of into the night. He fled north toward Naralik. Toward his wife and son.

 

____________________________

 

 

Three days later he strolled through the ashes that used to be his front door. Most of his mansion had taken heavy fire damage and there was not a window unbroken to be seen. The main supports of the building had been damaged as well, so he cared not to stay within the dwelling for fear of it collapsing.

 

“Alliana,†He called out. “Jarris!†The only response he got was the sound of the wind whipping through building, moaning like a tortured lost soul. He couldn’t contain the fear bubbling up from within; it felt much like the bile he was now fighting to keep down.

 

His first thought was to check the main floor, but he decided to check the upper floors. It would take more time to remove any unconcious from the second and third floors. He took the stairs from the main door way to the second floor, noticing blood splatters on the wall. The blood had coagulated, telling him there were multiple people injured as long as couple of days ago. His concern started to rise.

 

As Gier made the landing to the third floor he spotted a pair of bodies on the floor. One was armored and the other was that of a goblin. Someone had put up a good fight, this made him proud of his wife and son. He regained some hope that they had managed to get away. Finding nothing more on the third floor he moved back to the second.

 

The second floor had more square feet than the third, but the architect that built the home planned the floor for the servant’s quarters. Having no servants, they dedicated the space to their son’s quarters. He bedroom, study, and personal training occupied most of the rooms. Storage was held in the remaining rooms.

 

Right away he could feel something wrong. The dwelling shuddered as he checked his son's room in the eastern wing. To his relief blood splatters were missing from this part of his home, the only blemishes on the wall were dark shadows. He turned, preparing himself once again to discover the worst. On completion of his revolution he stopped in his tracks, before him stood a hunched figure. In the dim light, Gier was unsure of who stood before him

 

“Alliana?†He whispered in hopes of a favorable answer. The figure moved from shadow into the light. A green face mocked him by bearing a crack in the shape of a grin. A cackle escaped its dried lips as it slowly drew a crude serrated short sword from over its injured shoulder.

 

Gier growled as took a step forward to confront the creature. He stopped short when he heard a light thud from behind. As he glanced over his should to check for a threat, the goblin before him moved. With stunning speed the beast was on him, its light frame pressed against him. He didn’t have to see to know that the blade was making its way toward him; his life time of training told him that.

 

He balanced himself, grabbed the creature’s free arm, twisted and heaved with all his might throwing the creature faster in the direction it was headed and relieving it of its weapon. He now saw what had sounded the thud before he was attacked. A white blur was now entangled with goblin that had thrust at Gier only a moment before. The entanglement didn’t last long as the goblin sank to the floor, its head rolling from the gory mess.

 

The white blur fell with the body of its victim, once again landing on the floor with a light thud. This time it paused long enough for Gier to comprehend what he was looking at. Before him huddled what seemed an otherwise normal rabbit, though he knew different because of the spectacle he had just witnessed. The only stain on its otherwise perfectly white coat was that of blood about its mouth, which was now closed. Beady red eyes complimented the color of the leftovers that still clung about the beast’s maw.

 

Gier half expected the rabbit to hop at him as it attacked him as it had with the last casualty. Instead, it took a small step forward with one of its front paws. Then it complimented the first step by following with the opposite rear one. Slowly it crawled toward him in this fashion as it opened its gore stained jaws emitting a small, eerie growl.

 

Experienced as Gier was, he still did not want to cross something that had made such short work of the goblin. Taking check of his position, he decided it would be most prudent to make an escape and turned to make it. He just could not decide which would be the best way to do it. He then realized that he would not be able to return in order to complete his search. What had become of his family would become a mystery.

 

Before him the air began to sparkle with in the manifestation of ethereal presence mana. Seconds later a form began to materialize in the shadows, lightened by the light given off by the energy expended to complete the spell. A Dreagoni man stood before him, colored facial scales reflecting light from a window in the room behind Gier. He gave a sigh that turned into another growl as once again a figure stood in his way.

 

“I suggest you not run,†the man-dragon said quietly but arrogantly. “She may be little, but she is very fast.â€

 

Gier regarded him sarcastically as he cocked an eyebrow, “Hard to run with you in my way, though I have no intention of it. Begone, creature, by my sword or by my door.†To make his challenge more apparent, he drew a plain black stained short sword, his personal choice in assassination weapons.

 

The dreagoni man smiled in response, then started, “Though it may not seem it right now, I am an ally. I was here when the party came, and I can tell you now that at this moment they return.â€

 

“Then why did you not stop them? What happened here? Where is my family? If you are friend, then tell me!â€

 

“I never declared my friendship to you. I was unable to stop them because I cannot make my treason known. It would spell disaster for more than you could imagine. More than this continent is at stake. The continent that I come from has already been consumed by the tide of this regime. Torsage Danbane gained much in the years that you have lost touch with him.

 

He has captured my family and forces me to work for him. There are many others of my kind that are just like me. The Dreagoni did not fall for his propagation, so he took by force what he wanted. He alone has the say for what happens to our families. He does not, however, have as much control over me as he would like, my family is prepared to die and wish that I see him destroyed.â€

 

“So you have done your research. So what? That did not help my family, and it will not help you kill Torsage. I would think that if you have been in the game this long and had been successful at killing him, we both would not be here. So what about my family?â€

 

“I cannot tell you of your family. I arrived during the attack and summoned a few surprises for the assailants and waited for you. What happened to them is as much of a mystery to me as it is to you. I am sorry. You will have to search the for those answers yourself.

 

My true purpose for being here is to inform you that there are those among his army that yearn for freedom as much as you do. Indeed, since they have fallen under the foot of Danbane’s rule they most likely hope for it harder than you do. Their intentions are unknown and their loyalty to him is a farce, so when, and if, the time comes to strike you will have their allegiance.â€

 

“What is your name?†Gier questioned.

 

“I am Sigmand Segment, of SegV,†the Dreagoni replied. “You will need my name to gain the trust of those who lie and wait. For now we must part, they come.â€

 

“Who comes?â€

 

“Those that attacked your wife and son,†the dragon-man came back evenly. “They come for you, and this time they brought summoners. I suggest you flee. What happened to your family happened, it cannot be undone. If it is meant to be that you reunite, then so be it.â€

 

“I will not abandon their fate,†Gier growled. “Run and cower, beast. I’m going to find out what happened.â€

 

As he finished, Gier could hear the sound of hooves coming to a stop. Voices could be heard but not distinguished from outside the dwelling. Sigmand vanished as he teleported to some unknown, presumably safe, place. The ethereal resonance from his spell faded quickly from Gier’s sight as he looked over the second floor railing to the foyer. A very large shadow engulfed the entrance to his teetering home.

 

Short sword still in hand, Gier vaulted the railing, plummeting to the first floor. He landed silently and made for the door, making sure he was not seen or heard. Upon arrival he flattened himself up against the wall, hoping whatever was coming through the door wasn’t colossal.

 

When the figure finally slipped through the door it was quite the opposite. A gnome waddled through casting a gaze upwards, checking for a threat from the other floors. Not checking the immediate threat zone was the last mistake the little being ever made.

 

Gier pushed himself off the wall, and like lightning he was behind the gnome before reaction was possible. His blade was even faster and the gnome’s head was rolling across the floor almost before could reach the body to stop it from falling. Behind him, through the doorway, he heard a deep reverberating growl. Too late, he had just learned of his own mistake—the gnome had been bait.

 

The doorframe and wall subsequently attached seemed to explode as the thing casting the large shadow burst through the doorway. Chucks of debris flew everywhere; a solid piece of wood struck Gier in the head, hard, knocking him to the ground and disorienting him. As he shook his head to clear the ringing from his ears he stared up at the hulking form of an adult male ogre. Upon its head rested the symbol of its “captor†the one who had summoned it.

 

The sound of boots hitting pavement filled the room. Suddenly Gier was surrounded by man and beast. Two burly men, clad in armor, stood to each of his sides, and one behind him. Filling in between them were two summoners, one a Dreagoni and one gnome. By the medallions they were wearing, Gier could tell which the ogre belonged to.

 

“Not as ‘ard of a catch as the master said it’d be,†the man behind him, presumably the captain, uttered mockingly. “Some great assassin you are.†The man chuckled, swelling with pride from his easy victory.

 

“What did you do with my family?†Gier shot him a look that could almost melt iron.

 

“Whoa, bit touch about the wife an’ kid?†The man grinned, as he took a step closer. He was armed with a crossbow, which was politely aimed at Gier’s head. “Oh we took care of them. Took care of them right, we did.†He winked and demonstrated a lewd gesture.

 

Gier exploded with rage. In seconds he turned, lurched forward, sheathed his sword in the man’s vulnerable gut, delivered a blow to his face, and then relieved him of his weapon. Without taking aim he fired the already cocked weapon, hitting the gnomish summoner, who’s ogre nearly clobbered Gier upon it’s entrance, between the eyes. After that everything turned into chaos.

 

The ogre, free of it’s bonds to it’s summoner, went berserk, attacking the man to its left. Gier used the opportunity to make for the other armor clad man. The man swung his sword with ferocity as the unarmed Gier thrust for him. He caught the man’s fist, broke his lower arm, and used the man’s own weapon to nearly decapitate him.

 

Out of the blue, a fiery ball blew past Gier’s head, singeing his hair. As a matter of luck the fire ball flew past striking the man and the ogre locked in battle. The ball burst on impact sending both flying. They landed on stairs leading to the second floor, for a moment they lay there in shock that neither of them had caught fire. With a groan and a pop the stairs gave way, plunging them into the basement.

 

So engrossed with watching the man and ogre Gier was that he didn’t notice nor have time to react when the second ball of fire hit him. Not more than a few feet away from the first blast, the second did much the same to him. It hit Gier and burst the force of the concussion throwing him toward what was now a gaping hole.

 

He hit floor before and slid into the gap. Before he could fall, he snagged a hold of a board still attached. The maw of the cathedral ceiling basement was open wide as if to swallow him. Slowly the Dreagoni summoner ambled up to Gier, now in a predicament. He hunched down to taunt Gier.

 

“Shame you assassins don’t have eyes in the back of your head,†He chortled. “Kind of makes you understand your victims a little bit better doesn’t it?â€

 

Gier grunted, trying to maintain his grip yet knowing it was a losing battle. It was a long way down below him. He had had the basement built deep so he would have plenty of room for training and for his assassin work. The first floor, and essentially the whole of the house, was supported by two giant pillars. Gier knew he didn’t stand much of a chance if he fell, and if he survived the fall he wouldn’t remain whole enough to escape.

 

“I hope Danbane tortures your family the longest, you serpentine bastard,†He growled. Then he grinned taking note of the clear offense showing on the Dreagoni’s face. The dragon-man howled and stood. Then he stomped on Gier’s hands, forcing him to lose his grip and plunge into the depths.

 

 

(work on better descriptions)

________________

 

Welcome. Came the call of a female voice.

 

What am I hear for? He replied. Am I…?

 

That will be determined by outcome of this meeting. Called another, deeper, voice. Malice rang clear in its tones, as well as caution.

 

Who are you? And why am I here? He questioned again.

 

You would know me as Zarin, goddess of freedom and beauty. The female voice chimed back in. The other present is Mortos, all others wished not to attend. You are here because you have the virtues...and vices that we have purpose for.

 

My home and family was destroyed, he came back. I forsook the gods long ago. You never helped me then, and you did not when one of your own took my family. I want no part in your schemes. Send me to the deepest circle of hell, i decide my fate.

 

Long have you defied me, The deep voice roared in response. For your past transgressions, I had special place for you in your time after life. However in my leniency I have I taken only one of your family and it is by my good graces and will of the other gods you do not share her fate at this time. Test my patience, mortal, and see how far you get.

 

What are you saying? My son is alive?

 

And waiting for you to return. Zarin Replied He does not know what has befallen you and still expects you to return. Mortos has domain over issues of death. I will remind you that it is he who controls how long your son has to wait for you.

 

You did not answer my earlier question. If I have forsaken you, then why do you choose me? Why have some of you always aspired to meddle with my life while the ones I needed never answered my needs?

 

Our reasons are our own. Do not question them. boomed the deep voice.

 

He is right, but know that the Vermor family has always been under the watchful eye of the immortal ones. Nobility and glory has been inheirent in the family blood from the beginning of the line. Just because you renounced your heritage, we did not cast aside our interest in you. Your eminance does not come from just your blood line, but from your free will as well.

 

The choices you made in your life determined how and when we intervined. The voice of the Mortos reverberated. Now we are placing you in a position to choose live again or enter my realm.

 

I'll d...

 

Before you choose, Mortos cut him off. allow me to expound upon the commitment each choice consists of. In order to rejoin the living, you must stop Selain from taking Seridia. We along with Glilin, Glydoc, Alluwen, and Centau will provide you with things that will be of aide. Shy from this choice and you will join me in an eternity of pain, the place i originally reserved for you.

 

We know that you wonder why we do not make you do this task. Zarin spoke before he could deliver his response. The One with a higher power has bound us to your choice. We are forbidden from divulging more. Freely make your choice now mortal, walk again and avenge or cower and perish...

 

(Major revision and finishing needed)

 

_________________

 

Part Six

 

Keltom looked up from his reports and pondered about what he was going to do about the uprisings that had been occurring here of late. King Vermor was none too happy about it. Neither was he, for that matter. Two citizens died in the last protest turned riot. The citizens of Whitestone were becoming most fervent in their pursuit of secession from the Vermor Kingdom.

 

His gaze wandered around his stately office. Generations of Whitestones had occupied this room, and each had added an object from an important event in his life. An axe and morning star had been fixed to the wall behind his desk. The worn blade and ball had fallen many monsters in his father’s campaign to ward off an invasion of gargoyles. Many towns people had lost their lives fending off the attack and expanding the town to full-fledged city. The very desk he sat at had been a gift from the Elves in Tyrnam (check spelling of tyrnam) Vale. It was the desk that a peace treaty had been signed on to avert a war and save lives of both peoples. Keltom wondered if the sword at his waist or the pen in his hand would be his legacy.

 

He didn’t blame his people, though, for their raucous behavior. Gier’s youngest brother ascended the throne after Geribald’s death. The boy had been quite tyrannical by raising taxes, drafting all first born males and females, and declaring war on his neighbors with the idea of expanding his borders. Lately, the people were upset about a new ordinance forcing the worship of Mortos.

 

“You’re looking worse for wear these days, my Lord.†A quiet voice disrupted the silence.

 

Keltoms chuckled, “A life of leadership is a taxing role. You would know that, had you taken what was yours when you had the chance. Now come out of the shadows and tell me what you’ve found. I prey the shadow my sister is so fearful of hasn‘t risen to bite her.â€

 

“More literally than you could fear,†Gier replied grimly as he slipped from the doorway into the room. His form becoming more than a silhouette.

 

Keltom was stunned to see Gier’s face covered with soot. Even with the black mask, he looked ages older. He stood from his stately office chair, aghast. “What in Glydoc’s name happened?â€

 

“A raiding party attacked her and my son and set fire to my home. I was not fast enough save her.†He answered evenly.

 

“That‘s why you‘re so filthy…,†Keltom trailed off shocked by the news. “What of your boy?â€

 

“Brought him with me. I must ask that you take care of him until I can find other arrangements,†He replied, seemingly unfettered with the recent happenings.

 

Keltom growled, unsettled by Gier’s attitude. “You seem to be handling this all pretty well.â€

 

Gier leveled his gaze at Keltom, the defiance in the assassin’s eye burned through to his soul. “I promised my self that the bastard who ordered the attack that would never see me suffer. Come hell and high water, I will abide by that pledge,†he sneered in return.

 

Keltom couldn’t believe what he was hearing, he fell back into his chair in grief. “Who sent them?†he asked as loud as his voice would allow. It came out weak and shaky.

 

“A fellow assassin, and I use the term loosely,†Gier spat. “Torasage Danbane, is his name.â€

 

Keltom knew he need not waste the breath for asking if Gier would seek revenge. “How can I help you rid us of his dogged presence?â€

 

“I need an army,†Gier replied quietly. "I need the Myrmidons."

 

“You’re daft,†Keltom replied, incredulous. “You need that many men to kill but one? And do you think you’re brother would ever authorize me to give you command of the Myrmidons? He’s already wary of me in control of them.â€

 

“They are the only force that has the ability to do what I need them to do. They will not hesitate about assaulting a larger force, and they won’t get discouraged. I cannot reach him behind the barricade he has constructed.â€

 

Keltom frowned and became suspicious. “What do you mean larger force?â€

 

“Alliana was right,†he came back. “Indeed a storm brews in the south. Grubani is overrun with foreigners and monsters.â€

 

Keltom felt a pang of fear at the news. His sister had given him a prophecy in almost those exact words. Be wary, brother, and heed my warning. There will come a storm from the south. A foreign storm that will swallow the land, should nothing be done. He hadn’t given Gier this information prior to his commissioning. He didn’t want the assassin’s judgment to be compromised with some false prophecy.

 

“The peninsula is being torn apart then?" he tested then followed. "You knew of Alliana's prophecy?â€

 

“Hardly,†Gier replied. “I’ve never seen a venture so jointly, yet so undisciplined, put together. Last I estimated there was close to three hundred thousand and another quarter to their force. As for my intimate knowledge, lets just say i have low friends in high places.â€

 

Keltom pondered on Gier's inferrence and was overwhelmed with trying to put a mental picture to it. “Any idea as to why they have gathered? How are the Ywarstav and the Olminori cooperating?â€

 

“I wasn’t able to discern the exact reason why they’re there. I do know that they are hell bent on moving, and soon. I’d say within the year. They have men on land and nearly double that by sea. As for cooperation, well I‘m not inclined to call it that. Toleration is more like it.â€

 

“The beasts must be multiplying like rabbits down there,†Keltom growled.

 

“Not all of them are from this land. There are other...creatures among them. My count also did not include their summoning capabilities."

 

“If they have even half the numbers that you say they do, then the effort is pointless. This army you are requesting is not going to stand a chance against a half a million or even a quarter million men! The odds are to great.â€

 

“Do you want your sister’s death to have come about for nothing?†Gier shouted. “Man and monster killed her, but Danbane is just as guilty as they were. If he leads this army through Seridia, he is going to be guilty of countless other deaths. I will not allow it!â€

 

“Then kill him!†Keltom shouted back, his face flushed red. “You don’t need an army to do that. For the gods’ sake, you’re the best assassin in the last hundred years.â€

 

“You don’t think I tried?†Gier questioned. “I killed almost every one of his underlings, but never got a glimpse of him until he sought me out. Besides killing the ones in command won’t do the trick, what I did will only delay them for months. The months I need to bring the battle to their doorstep before it begins. He has the backing of a god. In order to remove Selain's influence on the army, I must take Torsage's life.â€

 

"And how, exactly, is an army going to flush out this foe that even you cannot find?"

 

"I am thinking insurrection. I do not need the men to flush him out. I need them to keep his minions off of me long enough to do the deed."

 

Keltom considered for a moment. “There’s no way I can give you the full legion, not with the Vermors threatening reprocussion. The people of Whitestone want liberation; they are looking to secede from the Vermor Kingdom. You’re brother is not too happy about it.â€

 

“I don’t need the full legion, then. I’ll only need a few.â€

 

“You actually think you can win?†Keltom inquired.

 

“I think I can stop them and avenge my wife.†The assassin answered, looking at Keltom with more determination than he’d ever seen in a man.

 

“You shall have them, then. When do you require them?â€

 

“Three weeks from now. Give them leave for two weeks starting tomorrow. Make sure every man that you chose has family at home. They have to know what they are fighting for.â€

 

"How do you plan on beating a god's agent?" Keltom inquired skeptically.

 

"Like i said," Gier responded in a voice that sounded like grating gravel. "I have low friends in high places."

 

Keltom raised his eyebrows, “Any other requirements?â€

 

“Yes, get me Dantin Dragartonâ€

 

“So be it.†Keltom uttered as he watched Gier turn and stroll back into the shadows, his boots making little sound on the marble floor. "What are you going to do in the mean time?"

 

From the distance he could hear, rather than see, Gier's sword being lifted a few inches from the scabbard. "Make preparations."

 

The last thing Keltom heard of the assassin was the sound the sword sliding back into its resting place. His thoughts drifted to how he was going to keep His Majesty from knowing about the disappearance of a thousand men. He also wondered how he was going to dig Dantin Dragarton from the Morcraven Marsh.

 

(Revision to be done)

 

_____________

Part Dantin

 

Traveling south over the Orvale Mountains had been a treat compared to actually dealing with the onslaught the environment had thrown at him since he had arrived into the Morcraven Marsh.

 

_____________

Part Seven:

 

 

A little over a month ago nights in the Grubani peninsula had been cool and drier than they currently were. Gier stood before four hundred and of his men just south of the camp in the north eastern part of the peninsula. It had taken them almost three weeks to travel the distance from their training grounds in south western Nordcarn where the camp now lied. Traveling in the company of over twelve hundred men and women had been slow.

 

A full thousand of those troops were men of the Myrmidons, most of them looked hardly more than teenagers. It was hard to comprehend the destruction they were capable of in combat if one did not know of the training they had to endure. Further training the Myrmidons in assassin warfare had been a task. He had to call in a few favors from council owed him for spare assassins and their apprentices to teach his mini army to kill without thier conscience. The last of his numbers was comprised of Mages. He had wooed them, with a little help from Unolas, from the School with promises of knowledge of foreign magic technology in return for healing and protection of his forces.

 

Much to his dislike, Gier had returned to the peninsula to find that it was brimming with outlanders and monsters all the way to the swamp. There was now five hundred and a quarter million people standing between his men and Olimnor. It was a good thing he wasn’t here to take Olimnor, he considered it an impossible task. His goal was the shipyard, that was where his enemy awaited.

 

The goal he had in mind for his army was quite different. They were with him merely to kill. He didn’t care who or how, only that they did. (^ Revise)

 

Gier was grateful for the current weather. With the warm, muggy nights, the enemy would be more aggitated. He signaled for his men to spread out and conceal themselves. It would take a greater part of the night to sneak all of them into the camp without raising an alarm. Slowly during the night they would wander into the camp in small groups or individually to

 

(TBC Major Revision)

 

Weapons/artifacts to be entered - likenesses only not the actual legends

(Gungnir - lance of Odin. For purposes of this story, Gungin was a lance given to their god Odin known to the humans as Selain. Gungin is a lance much like Gungnir, in that it has supplies greater accuracy and deadlier power. However it does not have the raw power gungnir does. Gift to man, not weapon of god)

(Masamune – japanese sword of legend. Could do violence, but avoided it.)

(Muramasa – Japanese sword of legend. Attracted violence.)

(Nastrond - name of the battlefield on which the final battle is fought.)

Edited June 10, 2005 by Quinticus

[Roja]

i just read part 1, it's great so far! I won't make many comments, since you said you'll be changing/fixing things anyway

[Quinticus]

Comments are most certainly welcome! I'm not looking for grammar or spelling fixes. Any other imput is welcome.

[Roja]

Ok I read up to part 3

 

Masamune --isn't this the name of Sephiroth's sword or something from final fantasy? The name sounds very familiar..

 

Forest of the Fall was never a city, just a small town. The name of the town was not "Forest of the Fall", it was something else. Forest of the Fall was the name given to that area after a curse had been placed upon it.

[Quinticus]

Yeah Masamune and Muramasa were swords in the Final Fantasy VII game. There are also other references to them in other games. However, i don't plan on using these names in the actual story. They will be changed, i just like the idea behind the legend.

 

Final Fantasy actually did not create the names of these swords. There is a japanese legend of a great blacksmith creating two great swords that were supposed to be the sharpest ever made. However, one was made to avoid violence and protect life, and the other was made to attract violence and take life.

 

I made a reference to this at the VERY end of the story. In hindsight, placing it at the end of the story wasn't really a good idea. I'm going to leave it there, though because i'm going to make a index/dictionary thing for the artifacts and weapons of importance used in the story. You'll see there a reference to Gungnir, which was the lance of the norse god Odin. I like the idea of the lance and will probably keep the name. However I'm going to change its abilities just a bit.

 

On the Forest of the Fall thing, i actually didn't really think of it as a big city. Perhaps that's the way i illustrated it. I thought of it as a small to medium sized town or large village. I'll make a note to take a look at that and fix it accordingly. What was the name of the town? Or can i just make one up? I believe it was inhabited by elves (which i don't think i portrayed it as either, another change to be made). Am i wrong?

 

Thanks for taking the time to read it.

Edited March 16, 2005 by Quinticus

[Roja]

I think forest of the fall was inhabited by humans, there are not many elf settlements on Seridia...if there are elves then they are mixed in the towns iwth the other races. There is not a name for the original town,so you can make one up.

 

I'd prefer you use original names on artifacts and such. You can keep the ideas of them, just change their names

[Quinticus]

I didn't really plan on keeping the name as Gungnir. In fact i had changed it to Gungin...ooooo big change , lol . Given your preferences, though, i'll make it something different. I have no problem with that .

 

Good, i do not think that i will have to change my story all that much. I'll just substitute another name for Forest of the Fall. Have any suggestions? I don't really like making up names. The place is heavily wooded so, it might have something to do with trees or something. Arbor Valley? (due to it being surrounded by mountainous terrain?)

[Quinticus]

Things to be done;

 

1.) Finish parts started

2.) Add part with Dantin

3.) Add part between Gier and brother for sword.

6.) Add return to whitestone

7.) Add part with guvuti (sp, check role play) and enter ember's and enlia's characters, Romas, and others

4.) Finish editing on parts done

5.) Add last 2 parts.

Edited June 10, 2005 by Quinticus

[Quinticus]

With the major part of the contest being finished i managed to almost complete the third section. Probably another 500-1000 words and it's finished. Also just started the part with Dantin.

 

It feels so good to be actually writing again!