Dragon Realms Seventh Dawn

**Give Dragon Realms a chance! Read what I got so far. Trust me, you'll like it!

**New add-on's...an all NEW Chapter 5!**

Book one

Chapter One

The new snow lay deep and undisturbed beneath the silver light of the dawning sky. Overhead, a raven surveyed a silent landscape as its black wings feathered the cold, thin air. The bird’s rasping call was the only sound to be heard for miles, breaking the frozen solitude in irregular staccato. All around, the land lay asleep in the depth of winter.
         All through the land nothing moved, nothing stirred, save the raven wheeling slowly overhead.
         The silence was abruptly broken as a scream split through the stillness. A young woman ran blindly down the trail-some little more than a snowy footpath. She cast a hasty glance over her shoulder as she ran, expecting the man on horseback to come charging into view at every turn. Her strong legs dodged and turned and flew as fast as they could carry her away from the scene.
         Presently she became winded and ducked into a close passage between two bushes. She lay under the brush out of view of the path, she waited to catch her breath and think. Her body shivered and each pant brought an icy haze from her frozen blue lips.
         “Go back to The Crossings,” she remembered her father's voice saying. She knew the city was a way off. She had no horse, and the city was at least a four days ride away. She could not make it on foot, alone, without provisions; those she would need to secure. She had no idea how or where that might be accomplished.
         She began to rise when in the same instant the rider bolted from the horizon, sword drawn and a small arm shield, held ready to ward off his captive’s blow. She ducked and crouched down again. Glancing from beneath the brush, she saw the enemy rider turned toward her. The rider jumped form his mount and approached her hiding place.
         Thinking quickly, she jumped from the brush and leaped right at him in the same fluid motion. With a loud yelp, the startled horseman fell backward. She was on him in a heartbeat, tugging at the knife in his belt.
         The rider recovered from his momentary fright and grabbed her hands, but not before she had the knife. The man scrambled to his feet, his fingers tight around her wrists. Eyes bulging, he laughed unconvincingly.
         She twisted her wrists in his grip and the blade bit into the flesh of his arm. “Ah!” he dropped his hands. She raised her knee in the same instant and planted her foot firmly on his chest. She kicked with all her might, springing backward through the air to land on her hands. The rider stumbled and stuck the ground; his breath rushed from his lungs in a gasp and his helmet clattered from his head.
         The young woman shivered violently in the cold breeze. A moment later hands were on her, an arm thrown across her throat. She was dragged off her feet and thrown viciously aside. Her head landed heavily against a tree trunk. Pain shot up her spine and into her brain in a sickening, black flare.
         With a groan, the woman dragged herself to her feet. She stood, leaning against the tree trunk, shaking her head to clear the gray mist from her eyes as the snowflakes fell lightly swirling around, fluttering up and down. The enemy horseman moved toward her.
         “I will finish with you,” he said, his voice thick with rage. There was blood splashed over his clothing from the cut on his arm.
         The blow caught her on the jaw just below her ear and nearly took her head off. She rolled against the tree trunk but did not go down. She closed her eyes.
         His fist lashed out and smashed her cheek. She tasted blood in her mouth. Her fingers fought to hold onto the trunk. The man drew his arm and loosed a vicious backhanded slap that snapped her head to the side. The pain cleared the gathering mist and she saw the man coming for her, hands grasping for her throat. She slid back against the trunk, holding on with one hand.
         Her attacker stepped close and reached for her and she spun. Bringing the knife up as she turned. The blade slid easily between his ribs and blood spurted with a bubbling hiss as the pierced lung deflated. The rider stared at her dumbly, his hands fumbling at his side.
         “Stay back!” The woman spat through bleeding lips. “Come again and I will kill you.”
         “It will not do any good, the old man is dead. They will find it.” the man wheezed, his hand pressed to his side
         Startled at these words her grip tightened around the dagger. “We will wait and see.”
         “They will find me and send someone after you”
         “Let them.”
         “Give me the knife and I will see that you are not harmed.”
         “That old man is my father. I will not see innocent lives ended here now.” She snapped, and winced at the pain the words cost her.
         The rider grimaced and pressed his hand to his side. Blood streamed from the wound, and in the silvery light, she saw that his face had gone the color of ivory. He swayed on his feet. “Give me that knife.” He held out his hand and stepped toward her unsteadily.
         “Stay back!” She hissed.
         The rider lurched forward; his knees crashed down on the snowy ground. His eyes rolled up into his skull, he toppled onto his side and lay still. The woman stared at him for a moment and then, cautiously, crept to him. She pressed her fingertips to the side of his neck and felt the flutter of a weak pulse. She pulled the man’s garment aside and examined the wound. It was clean and the blood already clogging. Her experience told her he would live.
         She heard a shout from below and, with her hands on her knees, she straightened herself, feeling hot knives ripping along her spine. The pain was making her groggy, but she gulped air to keep her head clear and moved to the ground. Five of the enemy troops had climbed the snowy hill and were running up the rise toward her.
         She sighed. She could not fight another enemy soldier, let alone five. She turned, and picked up the dagger. She slipped among the brush and slumped over catching her breath as the enemy soldiers came pounding up the mound.
         A second later, the first one arrived. He glanced at his wounded friend and crossed the ground to where she hid in three quick strides. Searching about the brush his hands fumbled across the woman. Pulling her from the brush, she raised the knife. The man’s foot lashed out, and the knife went spinning from her grasp.
         An instant later, her arms were jerked over her head and she was dragged across the white ground. She caught a glimpse of two other soldiers tugging at the body of the rider she had stabbed. The soldiers had gathered for a quick consultation, which ended abruptly. One of the men came to her, jerked her upright and hoisted her across his back.
         She allowed herself to be carried a little way while she gathered her strength. When the party reached level ground, the man carrying her put her down and shifted her weight to the other shoulder. That was all she needed.
         She stepped to the side and kicked at her assailant’s knee. The man’s leg buckled and he fell, yelling to his comrades, but she had already leaped away and had four strides on them before they knew what had happened. Ignoring the pain, she fled up the hill.
         As she reached the crest of the hill, one of her pursuers caught up with her, seizing her arm and spinning her around. She pulled her hands back, drawing him toward her and at the same time raising her knee sharply. The man gasped and crumpled to the ground, clutching his groin and rolling in agony. The next one to reach her was more wary, although no more lucky. He dived for her feet, hoping to trip her. She timed her jump and landed on the man’s arm snapping it right in half. He screamed in woe as he reached with his other hand to his broken bones.
         This time two charged at her at once with broadswords in hand. She looked around and lowered herself to a kneeling position. The men were close now, almost at melee range. She closed her eyes and counted silently to herself. The men drew there sword high ready to strike. Her eyes flashed open and she jumped into the air doing a polished and swift back flip out of harm. She landed with a wobbly arm as she pressed her abdomen in pain. The men charged into each other. The other man drove his sword into the heart of the soldier. They stared at each other in amazement at what went wrong. Then he collapsed dead. The other soldier yanked out the sword from his dead companion and looked around for the woman, she already several passes ahead of him, limping in pain. He ran at her; still not quite catching up.
         She did not dare look behind her. She just went on running. She Suddenly felt a hand on her back. The soldier jerked her around and she was facing the last soldier the last one coming in steadily. Before she could react, she felt a stabbing pain in her abdomen. The man pulled out a small dagger drenched in her blood. She gazed at him stepping back unsteadily. He grinned hastily and kicked her causing her to fall on her face.
         “Damn bitch.” Cried the soldier. He reached for her. She soon found herself being lifted slightly. The man glared into her eyes and spit at her. She next felt his fist. Her jaw cracked and blood spewed out more then before. She fell back on her side. She reached for her dagger but the effort was futile. She was kicked again, the force sent her back. She was nearly lifeless and felt her being slipping away.
         She prepared herself for the next blow but she did not feel it. Instead, a high-pitched scream echoed in the remoteness. She wearily opened her eyes and looked about the find the man dead on the ground two arrows penetrated into his back. After a few more silent moments, she heard footsteps. Before she could make out who was coming, she fell over on her back, unconscious.

Book One

Chapter Two

I would embrace humility and wear it like a cloak, among unsuspecting men. I would hold commerce with humble things of the world and so pass unseen and unmarked through the Land of Dragons. For men seldom heed the humble things that surround them; and what they do not heed; they do not hinder.
         By the time I reached the southern lands, warmer weather turned to an early spring, and soon soft air soughed in new-budded trees; blossoms quickly appeared, seeding the drifting currents with sweet, heady fragrance. Water ran high; river, lake and stream swelled to overflowing. In a little while, the hillsides blushed shocking color; yellow, crimson, and blue. The sun wheeled through dappled, cloud-crowded skies, and the moon steered her bright course though star-filled night.
         Coming to the end of my travels, I set out for the settlement just south of the town, The Crossings. I found a goodly size village straddling the ford of a swift-running river. A muddy track had linked the two half’s, whose houses were mud-and-twig thatched with reed, poorly made; but two large cattle enclosures boasted wealth. Thick black smoke trailed form a lonely chimney rising from the center of town, a working blacksmith shop. These people as traders and merchants would be helpful in my journey; they knew the happenings of the world here-abouts.
         I adjusted the hood of my cloak, my guise of a wandering priest of the Mighty Thirteen gods, my hair in dismay and my face smudged with dirt and soot--I surveyed the place from the side of an overlooking hill.
         As I approached the holding, the skin at the nape of my neck prickled to danger. I thought better of my fear and silenced myself. Walking with head down I pushed through the crowd of people, who were now beginning to gather around the cattle yard. Stepping from a low doorway of the center of a house, a man with an oaken club appeared. He straightened and strode forth with a swagger.
         "Greetings," he said, more threat in the word then welcome. "We do not see many of your kind about. Travel is difficult these days."
         “Agreed,” I answered, “If need were not great, I would not trouble you for hospitality.”
         “Hospitality?” The word obviously had no meaning for him. His heavy-lidded eyes narrowed with suspicion.
         I feigned indifference to the man’s rudeness. “I ask a little water and I will continue on my way.” the man grunted and swung the club against his leg,
         The man bristled. “Water is all you get, mind.”
         I was shown a stone trough filled by a trickle from a hillside spring through an ancient clay conduit. I drank cupping the water into my hands. I indulged myself in the cool water, yet lacking sweetness it was refreshing nonetheless. Drying my hands on my robes, I thanked him.
         "I have been in the north," I said, as I reached into my leather pouch. "We are still too far north to be near the Tiger or Wolf clans. Who's lands are these?" I took this as my opportunity of knowledge.
         "Bull clan territory"
         I nodded, "I have never heard of your clan before, nor even known of its existance. I thought these lands were controlled by the Order of Ecnock?"
         "I say Ecnock is a fool and a coward." the man spat.
         "The man who calls his brother a fool stands in danger of the god's wrath," I reminded him. "Surely, you must have good reason for such harsh judgment."
         "Good reason right enough," snorted the man, "I call him fool who lets another steal his lands and lifts not a hand to stop the thief! I call him a coward who stands by and watches his son as he is slaughtered and does not demand blood price."
         "This is a serious matter. Land stolen, a lord's son killed; who has done such things?"
         The man grimaced in disgust for my ignorance. "Who else?" he sneered. "Dihultus of the Shadow Order of course! Two summers ago it began, and since then Ecnock's every holding must defend itself, for we can expect no protection from Ecnock."
         I shook my head sadly. "It grieves me to hear this."
         Ha!" barked the man scornfully. "Let your grief defend you! I mean to hold what I have." His lips curled in an ugly sneer. "You have had your water, now get gone from here. We have no use for priests." The man hefted the club.
         From my pouch I pulled out some Copper Kronars and dropped them on the ground. I closed my leather boar pouch and began my journey to The Crossings.
         Oh poor Elanthia, it's land was now soiled by thieves and rouges; nothing Lanival the Redeemer dreamed it to be. Lanivals dream was falling apart and many were afraid it would disappear among the evil of the land forever.It was vital that I reach the City with haste, and with haste I traveled; being careful as to not forget my humble disguise.

         The Crossings lies in one of the five provinces of the Realm; The provence of Zoluren, home to all seven races as well as immigrants from the Gorbesh and far Western lands. Zoluren being culturally and racially diverse enjoys the commercial advantages of it's geographical position in the center of the defunct Seven Star empire. I should not of been so surprised then, to find a settlement based on trade so close to the city.
         Like Shard the city of Elves to the southwest in the provence of Ilithi, The Crossings maintained a wall of stone around the perimeter. But The Crossings wall was never as high as Shard's because it was never as needed, until recently; it served as a reminder the cities strength, rather then then it's real defense.
         So I was amazed coming upon the city at dusk: the wall of The Crossings had grown tall indeed. And a deep ditch had been dug below the wall to make it higher still. The City of The          Crossings was now a fortress.
I neared the northeast entrance. The gates were already closed and barred for the night, although the sky still shone light over the horizon. I halted on the narrow causeway to wait, and then answered rudely.
         The surly gate-men were loath to admit me, but as I claimed business with the temple-the temple was the largest and moth breathtaking of the Thirteen god's in all the lands made it a refuge for the spirit- they grudgingly, and with much cursing, unbound the gate and let me in. Least they fall foul of the high priests, whose sharp wit, and sharper tongue, was renowned in the region.
         I passed through the gate. The streets of the city were dark with shadows and smoke from the hearth fires beginning to glimmer behind the thick glass of narrow windows. The Crossings was a wealthy city still; those of it's people who could maintain life during this time lived well.
         I knew my destination and needed to move quickly. Several blocks north rose the building that houses the Paladins' Guild. Light glinted off its crystal-paned skylight and circular stained-glass windows, surrounding the edifice with an aura of power and purity.
         There was the end of my journey. Only there I could receive the help I needed. I found myself standing before a pristine white building, two stories high - the Paladins' Guild. Its roof angled to catch the rays of the sun, moons and stars through a crystal skylight set into one of the eaves. The only color provided was a by round stained-glass windows, depicting vignettes from the lives of illustrious paladins of Elanthia's past. An arched doorway topped by a carved wooden lintel led inside.
         I dropped some kronars in to steel tithe box as I walked through the great arched doorway, the paladin guard nodding in approval.
         I stood in front of the doorway, an armored sentry giving em a funny look as i stood in wonderment at the Paladins meeting guild hall; it was nothing from what I remembered. Mounted above the doorway, a shining silver broadsword pointed skyward. Light shone in from above through a large skylight placed in the ceiling of the grand hall. Chairs were arranged in a circle, representing the symbolic equality of all guild members and to it's left was an elaborate parchment scroll. In the corner a waste bin fashioned out of used shields.
         To my west was the armory and my east was the chamber hall, yet my eyes were set on the marble arch in front of me.
         Darius received me cordially; he still held much respect for me, it seamed he had loved my friend and master Zoha; who was now thought to be dead.
         Despite the dark, foreboding atmosphere of Darius's office, it was strangely comforting. A large cave bear hide laid on the floor in front of a small fireplace. Off to the side, a comfortable looking chair was placed adjacent to a bookcase and a small table. A large desk sat directly opposite the fireplace and filled out the room's meager, but functional, furnishings. Darius was flipping through the guild register atop a simple brass stand.
         Sir Darius was a stern man, his dour expression enhanced by his dark hair and fair, almost pale, skin. He was the youngest Justiciar in recent memory, and has earned a reputation for strict, unbending adherence to the letter of the paladin's code.
         He was wearing an exquisite smoke-grey surcoat with the crest of the Borrelas family over his tailored black tunic. His crest was the only ornamentation found on his otherwise rather severe appearance.
         He looked up from the stand "Iomhair! Dear brother, it has been to long. I hardly know you!" he rose and came to me holding out his arms. I met him him and gripped his arms in the old way of greeting. "Come, come, sit with me. Are you hungry? We will eat. I have often wondered where you had gone. Wondered if you were dead or alive. By the god's bless the sight of you!"
         "Glad to see you, Darius. In truth, I did not think you would accept me with such warm welcome. but now that I see you, and this old guild I believe that my steps have been directed here from the first."
         "Where the god's lead, his servants must follow, eh? And from the looks of you, I would say you were lead a merry chase."
         I smirked,reaching into my robes and pulled out a silver case "I did not think I would survive that night..." I closed my eyes squeezing the case tightly in my hands. Darius's eyes went wide with shock. "Yes, I still have the case"
         Darius's shock turned to a slight grin and he placed his hands upon his face.
"It is safe." he sighed relief.
         "Have there been talks of bounty recently?"
I looked down and examined the box. Darius raised a brow in my direction.
         ""None that I know of? Why do you ask?"
         ""No prisoners of thieves raids brought in? Any talk at the empaths guild?"
         ""What do you mean Iomhair?"
         "My grief must have seeped its way to my face and Darius formed a worried look. "What is wrong dear friend?"
         "Shaking my head I slid the silver case back into the fold of my robe.
         "“Darius I need your help. I need to know these words can be trusted to your ears only.”
His stern face broke with unreadable emotions. "I will send out my best knights for what ever quest you need done. Give me the word--"
I looked at him with solemn eyes.
         "“Head my words Darius, for what you are about to discover will be difficult to accept as reality. Accept the past, only then can you embrace the future.”

Book One

Chapter Three

Amidst the shadows, She looked into the abyss. And as she stared into what should of been a blackness, her eyes were set upon a misty haze of brilliant colors. She became hypnotized in the bright, blinding light, yet gave no effort to shield her eyes. Slowly she stepped forward, and gracefully slipped her left foot into the light. Immediately a warmth consumed her and she stepped fully into the glow. Instantly gazing up, she searching for the direction of the light. Instead of finding a source, her body begin to rise off the ground into the air, which had now become thin, dry, and cool. Closing her eyes against the growing illumination she allowed the icy air deep into her lungs.
         The intense radiance blew into an almighty brilliance of white and she became indulged into a nothingness of fear and desperation. As quickly as it has come the light disappeared and at that same moment, she felt as if she was falling into a pit, as if plummeting into the depths of the underworld. With a loud thud and a crack of her skull onto the damp stone floor, she laid in a dreamy unconscious...

         Waves crashed in her head and her stomach heaved, as with the ocean's swell. Somewhere nearby someone was moaning, and Tanyun wished they would shut up- until she realized it was her. Well, perhaps moaning was called for, then.
         After several long minutes, the ocean effect subsided and she battled her eyelids open. The pain in her head triggered and she closed her eyes again and listened instead. the moaning-her moaning-had stopped, and silence lay thick and artificial. A false silence, she decided, as if the quite had been magic in some way and layered over the noise that was going on all around her just to prevent her from hearing it.
         Tanyun look around and found herself laying on a cloak in the corner of a well made tent. Light shone through the tents bottom and side corner openings. Smoke seeped through the tent's flap and her stomach gurgled, reminding her she had not eaten in quite a while.
         She sniffed the air and smelled dried blood. Touching her face she opened her eyes and studied the bandages around her abdomen and head. The rest of her body was left open for infection. Well at least who ever it was who held her captive, did not want her dead just yet. She cringed at the idea.
         Where had they brought her? Who brought her? The last soldier was killed, was'nt he? Questions raced through her mind. She could be anywhere in the northern sections of Zoluren, or the southern parts of Theren. She guessed, there was a good chance she was still in Zoluren near the northern dock.
         Of course, they could have taken her anywhere after the attack. She had no idea how long she had been out. Her stomach began to gurgle again. Her hand went to her abdomen were she had been stabbed. The wound of minor size throbbed mightily and was inflamed. She closed her eyes due to the intense pain in her head and laid down once more.
         She was still taking physical inventory when she heard the flap of the tent open.
         "You're wake, good." said a cheery female voice. "They thought after that night you would not survive. They are waiting for you." She gave the word night a subtle rising inflection.
         She kept her eyes closed and feigned sleep. The ruse did not work. The woman giggled. "I know you are awake, I heard your moaning. I know you probably feel a little unsteady. The best thing for you to do is stand up and get moving. The spell has worn off, you will soon be fine."
         Whoever owned that dreadful cheery voice was now standing directly over her. She could feel her breathing down on her and the cool touch on her forehead.
         She opened her eyes to see a rather pretty elf women. She wore a light blue dress and matching slippers. Material of Sheer white laid in place from her right side, across her back and over her left shoulder; draping down to her feet with a simple silver cord tied around her waist. A hooded mantel of ice blue clasped together at her neck with the crest of the Wood Elves.
         She was tall and slim as all Elvin folk are. Her hair was long and straight with silver spirals decorated throughout her head. Her misty ice blue eyes stared kindly at her matching the warmth of her soft, fair toned skin.
         "Your fever is gone, and your wounds are healing faster." The woman smiled at her.
         "Where am I? What spell did you use on me?" She made an effort to get up, and her stumach rolled dangerously. The elf woman expertly slipped her arm under the wounded women's shoulder and levered her to a sitting position.
         "The spell was only Nissa's Binding. I casted this spell when I made a heart link with you. It made you fall asleep. It helped slow down your bleeding and any infection that might of been in your wounds. I started to heal you and you began to regain strength while you slept. you have been asleep for almost a full moon cycle. The seasons have changed, it is now early spring. You must be starving, it's not easy to feed an unconscious person. Thank the god's for the spell. I had to cast it three times to keep you alive. Most your wounds have healed. I would of finished healing you, however Nissa's Binding takes up much mana. When I regain my strength to it's full I will finish healing you." The elf woman still smiled down at her.
         "Thank you..." The elf woman just smiled, it seemed she had not done so in years so she had to try it out now. "And yes, I am starving. I feel so week I do not know if I can eat. And once again Where am I? And who are you?"
"All will be explained when they return.They will be happy, as am I to know you are healthy and awake. I am Charsis, an Empath of The Crossings."
         The Crossings, the women could be helpful in getting to the city. And who was the they she referred too?
         "The Crossings you say. Are you traveling in that direction?"
         "I wouldn't want to spoil the surprise now would I...Tanyun?" She gave her a wink and a quick smile. Before Tanyun could say anything the women spoke again. "Lets see if you can stand, there is food outside next to the fire." Tanyun decided to leave it at that. Charsis wasn't going to answer how she knew her name or who these they people were. And at that moment in time Tanyun didn't care, she wanted that promised meal.
         Leaning on Charsis's arm she managed to stager, like a sailor making landfall after a long storm-tossed voyage, across the area of the small tent. The flap slid open and warm sunlight shinned down on her face. She looked around. It was as Charsis said, it was early dawn, and the sun started to peek over the crest of the scope and the smell of fresh spring filled the air. Tanyun pondered how many days short she was of sleeping a complete moon rotation.
         Her captors had chosen camp wisely. They were flanked on two sides by jagged rock, protected but not trapped. The light of his fire was low enough that intruders passing even within twenty yards would not notice; and there horses tethered to a nearby tree, has been muzzled.
         Charsis spoke, "Your doing well. I wont be but a moment. Walk around or sit down if you like." Charsis walked over to the campfire and continued at her work.
         Tanyun paused in the edge of light just outside the glow of the small fire. Gazing across the hilltop she saw a man striding towards her: a fine and handsome man. His hair gleamed like shimmering flax, his cloak was blue as night; his plate armor was brilliant white, and his trousers soft leather.
         Next to him walked a tall scruffy man clad in brown trousers, tunic and thick, black, leather armor. The bulges of his muscled tan arms and shoulders revealed the man who lived by the sword.
         The man in leather carried a tight bundle in his arms and a heavy longbow hung around his massive shoulders. The man in the blue cloak followed close behind, holding the rope of several tightly bounded packages; which had been heaved across his back.
         Tanyun began to prepare herself to remain cold of heart for this moment. So she set her face into expressionless stone and stepped forward towards the fire.
         At her movement into the light, The man in the black leathers shouted, “Wait my lady, we have set a trap!”
         In the same moment, a slap of sound exploded in her ears, and a rope gathered around her feet and yanked her upward. Within a heartbeat, Tanyun was helpless. Upside down and her hands flailing.
         She bobbed once, then twice, then came to a rest, her head at least five feet from the ground.
         She swung upside down gently, and the man in the blue cloak laid his bundles next to the fire then came forward to examine her.
         Wonder and shock crossed his face.
         “Greeting, my lady.” He bowed once, and then gestured above her. “as you can plainly see, an arrival of an enemy was not entirely unexpected, or a chance at you waking up and wondering about. We had hoped to give you warning when you awoke.”
         Charsis chimed in, “ ’Tis my blame lady Tanyun, I forgot we set the trap.” He said in embarrassment, yet Tanyun could here a slight chuckle in her tone.
         Tanyun crossed her arms to retain her dignity. It was not a simple task, given the awkwardness of holding a conversation while blood drained downward to fill her head. “You may release me,” she said. “I have to harmful intentions.”
         The man in the blue cloak snickered. “I can see that.” and grinned.
         “I’ll get the food ready Treize” Said the man in leathers,as he gave Treize a pat on the back “In the meantime, get her down.” Then the man in black leathers walked over to the tied bundles and speaking to Charsis.
         “Your jest falls short of humor,” Tanyun snapped.
         “You approve, then, of the hidden noose attached to a young sapling?” He savored in her helplessness. “All one needs to do is release the holding rope with a well-placed swing of the sword, and the sapling springs upward.”
         Tanyun regarded the man silently and bit her tongue to keep from replying. At that moment, the cry of a dozen men on foot and horseback, crashed toward them with upraised swords, though still several yards away.
         “Scouts from Ecnock! Treize, hurry cut her down. They are still a few passes behind the hill bottom.”
         The blue cloaked man quickly drew his sword and brought it back quickly slashing at the rope holding her feet. She dropped, head first, letting out a yelp of fright. He dropped his sword and caught her in one swift movement, which cost him a grunt effort.
         For a heartbeat, she was in his arms, face only inches from his. In the heartbeat of stillness between then, she sensed strength of quiet confidence. The total impression in the brief moment was much too enjoyable, and the rush of warmth she should not prevent as he held her became anger.
         He placed her on the ground and held onto her hand dragging her over to the fire.
         “Go help Charsis untie the horses and ride them around to me and Glauze when we give the signal.”
         Tanyun ran over to Charsis and helped her un-tether the last horse. Charsis already mounted on the first steed held the rains of the seconded one in her hand tightly.
         Within moments, the rest of the camp was flooded with a men, some in full armor, some merely with protective vest and sword.
         Two lead horses galloped through the camp, scattering ashes of the fire in all directions.
         “Do you know how to ride?” Charsis asked.
         Tanyun who was watching Treize and Glauze trim through the footmen nodded anxiously and mounted the third horse.
         “Good. Now ride!”
         Charsis charged towards her two companions, who were cornered at the edge of the hill.
         Tanyun rode as fast as she could, barely dodging and enemy horseman who cam apace with her as he pulled out his sword. Tanyun reared her horse around and rode around the horseman. She heard a cry of panic and through a side glimpse saw Charsis loose grip of the the seconded horse. Still seated on her first mount Charsis charged towards Treize, his blue cloak soaring through the wind.
         Tanyun kicked the back of her horse with her heals. “Yha!” She rode forward the man on horseback still coming after her. The other horseman charged into view, a spear in hand. The two men yelled at one another and before Tanyun could charge out of the way she was struck down from her horse, a spear across her throat.
         She fell to the ground with a thud and cried out in pain as her abdomen began to bleed again trhough the bandages. Clenching her throat she gasped for air, once again feeling the familiar pain of dizzy blackness. Tanyun felt rough hands yank her shoulders. She knew there was little use in struggle, and she quickly accepted defeat. A man on each side held her arms.
         Her attention had been on Treize and the others. She squirmed slightly to look around. The slight movement earned her an immediate prod in the ribs. She moaned in pain.
         “Pretty or not, milady, you’ll get no mercy from this sword,” came a warning in her ear.
         Tanyun stared straight ahead and endured the arrogant smile that curved across her attackers face. She could not see beyond his face, the pain was too great. Rough rope bit the skin of her wrists. She was picked up and thrown across the back of a horse, but she was not mindful of inflicted bruises.

Book One

Chapter Four

“Sit her up properly,” barked a voice that barely penetrated Tanyun’s haze of distress. “She’ll only slow our horses if you leave her across the saddle like a sack of potatoes.”
         Fumbling hands lifted and propped her in a sitting position and guided Tanyun’s hands to the edge of the saddle. She was too deep in pain, and despair to care, or fight.
         Her mind and heart were so heavy with unease that when her eyes suddenly lost all vision, it took her a moment to realize that someone had thrown a hood over her head. Now she had no chance to escape on the horse they had provided her.
         Then came a sharp whistle, and her horse moved forward. Slowly it followed the others in a single file line down the narrow trail that led back to the main road.
         Eventfully, the tempo quickened and the steady plodding of her horse became a canter. Tanyun had to hold the front edge of the saddle tight with her bound hands and sway in rhythm to keep her balance.
         By the drumming of hooves she knew other horses were now beside her, which meant that the trail had widened.
         As the horses picked up pace, her own anger and venom started to burn. If only there might be a moment to grab a sword and plunge it—
         Without warning, the lead horse screamed.
         Even as the first horse’s scream died, there were yells of fear, the thud of falling bodies and then the scream of men.
         Because of the hood over her head, Tanyun’s world became a jumble of dark confusion as her own horse stumbled slightly, then reared with panic. The sudden and unexpected motion threw her to the ground.
         A roar of pounding hooves filled her ears, and she felt something brush the side of her head.
         Dust chocked her gasp of alarm. More thunder of hooves, then a terrible crack of agony that seemed to explode her head into fragments of searing fire.
         Then nothing.

         Tanyun turned her head slowly. She could see. The hood no longer blocked her vision. She was sitting against a tree, rough bark pressing against her back. Her hands were free.
         She brought them up, almost in amazement at the lack of pain.
         “The women child wakes,” a voice said.
         Tanyun tensed. The voice belonged to a stranger behind her. Before she could draw her legs in to prepare to stand, he was in front of her, offering a hand to help her rise.
         “Milady,” he said. “If you please.”
         When she stood, she saw the aftermath of that confusion on the trail between the trees. The horses and their owners, unnaturally still, lay on their side in dust.She counted four men all tied to nearby trees. Their groans reached her clearly.
         “It’s an old trick,” the man apologized, snapping her attention back to him. “We yanked a rope tight across the bend, knee high to their horses. These fools were traveling in such a tight bunch that when the leaders fell, so did the others, including you. I offer my apologies for the bandage across your head. We did not know you would be hooded.”
         “Tanyun gingerly touched her skull, and found, indeed, a strip of cloth bound just above her ears.
It’s not serious,” the man said quickly. “The bandage is merely a precaution.”
         “Of course,” Tanyun murmured.
         “His eyes glinted humor from beneath shaggy, dark eyebrows. His nose was twisted, as if it had been broken at least once, as she looked at him she noticed his nose had a snout like appearance. The man she stared at was of the Rakash race, a half human, wolf race. Rakash shape shift into wolf-human hybrids when the black moon, Katamba, is full. Even when not in their moon-skins, the Rakash retain a touch of their wild nature. Yet it did not detract from his swarthy handsomeness.
         The trace of noble blood showed, the ragged purple cape had once been exquisite, and his balance and posture showed a confidence instilled by money and good breeding. His shoulders, however, were broad with muscles borne of hard work, and the calluses on his hands had not come from a life of leisure.
         He interrupted her inspection.
         “Your friends are safe, the are a little ways over.”
         “Someone called to the stranger from behind.
         “Tray, come here!”
         He beckoned her to fallow, and turned toward the voice. Together, they moved deeper into the trees and entered a small clearing.
         Tanyun blinked in surprise. The remainder of the enemy horses were gathered, surrounded by a dozen other men who stood in casual circles of two or three among the steeds. Next to the men stood Treize, Charsis and Glauze.
         “Trey, it’s high time we disappeared into the forest,” said the voice of a man. Tanyun turned to see a tall and slender blond elf.
         “Yes,” tray said. “They lady seems fit enough for travel.” He paused. “Those by the road…they have the note?”
         “The elf man nodded. Soon enough they will find the energy to mount the horses we have left for them.”
         “They are lucky to be alive,” spat another man. “ I still say we should not bother with this nonsense, and get rid of them now.”
         “Tray laughed lightly. “Ziddin, the rich serve us much better when alive.” He motioned to his men, and then turned to Tanyun. “We did promise to help your friends travel safely to town.” But he said in a low voice, “but we made no promise about neglecting profit. And although the arrival of these men has complicated the matter, there is now much more to be gained by selling these hostages for ransom.”
         He lifted his eyebrows in a quizzical search. “After all, as the Realms outlaws, we can’t be expected to be sinless.”

         Their southward march took them so deep into the forest that Tanyun wondered how she might find her way back to any road.
         The man she knew as Tray led the silent procession on paths nearly visible among the shadows cast by the towering trees.
         As they traveled, she reviewed the morning’s horror. Eventually Tray halted the lead horse. He dismounted, and then walked past all the others to reach Tanyun and her new friends.
         Tray gestured at the outlaw called Ziddin. “He will lead the horses to safer grounds. We will have to leave all the horses here and move ahead on foot." he glanced at her. "A precaution. The mark’s of the horses’ hooves are to easy to fallow. We near our final destination.”

         In the two days they had left the attacked camp, Tray's party of rangers had covered ground at a tremendous rate. Tanyun was amazed at the skill and clear thinking of their guide. Treize-none more so much as Glauze had severly doubted they would last an hour more in the forest.
         But Tray knew the land like his own skin. He knew instinctivley when a trail would ver and when to abandon one path and choose another. The forest seemed to hide no secrets from his alert eyes; in fact, this slim, brown furred, long nosed, wolf-like man read it easily.
          Tanyun suspected that years of following the creaters of the forest made Tray and his companions at home amoung the wild things of the forest, rather than in the world of men. Tray and his men shared convential wisdom, for the wary rangers were weidely considered a people of sinking back into animals ways, rather than arising out of them.
         But a bettr guide could not have been found anywhere. And if there had been six like him, the company could have not been in safer from discovery. Tray knew when to halt and when to move forward. He varied the times of thier travel, never keeping to a determined patter, but moving mainly at night.
         Still, none of them doubted that the enemy were yet behind them. Until they crossed the wall to riverhaven they were still largely in danger. Tanyun knew that absolute saftey would be reached when they arrived behind the mighty stone walls of The Crossings.
         The last light of day splashed crimson into the sky and tinted the edges of lingering clouds violet and blue. Tanyun road easily, though nearvously, between Traise and Glauze. Charsis followed clsoe behind. Ahead of them loomed the gracefull silhouette of the city Riverhaven.
         Tanyun, werry from travel wished to sleep. Before she could think any more of it the band of travelers had come to a halt.
          Tray, still mounted on his horse approched Treize and the two spoke in whispers. When the two broke apart Tray turned his horse around faced his men and called out to them in a stange tounge. The rangers following Trays orders turned and followed their leader out of sight, into the protection of the forest.
         Well, Tanyun had found her rest. The rough log hut of the hermit of he Northeast forest provence of Therengia. The hermit was known amoung the lonely as one who gave aid to travelers and cared for pesents and the forest folk who often had need of his healing arts.
         He had been a cleric priest, but had left to follow a diffrent god, so the local hearsay toled. Boyond that nothing more was known of the hermit, except that he possessed many strange powers and listed amoung his talents the ability to call upon dragons from their caves, though no one had ever seen him do it. Tanyun grinnd slightly as she imagined what this hermit looked like a short, fat, and baling man chasing around a fire breathing dragon.
         It seemed strange to Tanyun that Glauze, Treize, Charsis and herself would now seek help from this lonely hermit-even if the aid was only a bed for the night.
         So Tanyun found herself in the fading twilight of a brilliant late spring day. Surrounded by thick hedges and evergreen they approched the door of the log hut.
         It was a low building which appeared to be mostely roof and chimney. Two small windows looked out on the world and a arched door closed the entrence. The homely abode was nestled in a hillick at the far end of a natural clearing which gave way to spashis view of the sky. The ground rose to meet the house on a gentel incline, so one had to climb slightly to reach to front door.
         Tanyun followed by the others rose quietly up to the entrence of the hut. Sitting on their horses they could have eaily jumped from their saddles to the roof with ease.
         They dismounted their horses and Treize with the flat of his hand knocked on the heavy oaken door. They waited uncertainly; if not for the smoke curling slowly from the stone chimney they would have suspected the place abandoned. But someone had been there - the clearing was well trampled with the foot prints of men and animals in the muddy ground.
         Treize gripped the hilt of his sword as did Glause, and once again Treize knocked on the door, this time with a more satisfactory result.
         They waited, yet so sound came from the hut.
         The sky was darkening quickly now; the sun was well down. they could feel the cold setteling across the land.
         Glauze tried the crude latch and found that with some force it moved. He placed his weight behind the door and shoved. The rough-hewn door swung open in with more ceremony than he had planned, bumping over the threshold as he entered.
         The room was a good deal larger then theywould have guessed from the outside, and it was sunken well below ground level. stone steps led into the room which was warm and cozy, lit by the flickering fire left burning in the wide, generous fireplace. About the room stood an odd assemblange of hand made furniture; chairs, tables both large and small, stools, a large lumby bead and something that suprised and delighted tanyun hand made shelves full of books. Books and scrolls were heaped on top of tables and chairs, even scattered across the floor.
         All this Tanyun took in as her eyes adjusted to the relative gloom of the dark room. she also saw the place was empty of it's inhabitant. Adanator, apparently, was absent; perhaps on some mercy errand in the forest nearby. The group decided to slip in and await the hermit's return.

Book One

Chapter Five

A fire rages in Dragon Realms. A strange hidden fire, dark-flamed, invisible to the eye. Seething and churning, it burns, gathering flames of darkness and treachery into its hot black heart. Unseen yet not unknown it burns.
         These flames of darkness are ravenous; they grow greedy in their spreading. Consuming all. Destroying all. Though the flames cannot be seen, the heat scorches and singes, searing flesh and bone alike; it saps the strength, and withers the will. It blisters virtue and corrodes courage. It turns love and honor to hard, dark embers.
         The dark fire is an evil and ancient enemy, older that of Elanthia. It has no face, no body, limbs or member to be engaged and fought, much less quenched and conquered. Only flames, insidious tongues and hidden dark sparks that blow and scatter, blow and scatter on every fretful wind.
         And nothing can endure the dark fire. Nothing can stand against the relentless, scathing corruption of the unseen flames. It will not be extinguished until all that exists in the worlds-realm is dead and cold ash.

**More to come soon**Please rate or e-mail, and check out my portfolio!Thanks**:)