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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1779974-Iomir
Rated: E · Other · Fantasy · #1779974
A fictious book set in a mythical land.
Chapter 1
The Creature
Some thing crawled in the shadows. Two pinpoints of eerie red glowing light shone brightly. A small toddler waddled down the alley way chasing a runaway ball. He gurgled happily, having no thought of the danger lurking so close. The shape stood poised to pounce. Closer and closer the child strolled his fat face revealed a toothy grin. Suddenly the figure leapt high brandishing it’s cruelly curved talons and its jaws gaped wide revealing a plethera of razor sharp teeth
“Sir please stop. The council dislikes interruptions,” the guard bearing glittering armor insisted, his mailed hand trying to grasp the man’s large shoulder.
“No, I have important business now stand aside,” replied the man. He caught the guard by the back of the shirt and threw him into a nearby pile of hay. The king had a strong temper when unleashed. (Which was quite often!) He strode quickly to the decorated oaken doors and hurled them open. Inside a crowd of senators and advisors sat discussing how high the tax on pork should be. The men all turned their oiled bald heads glinting in the setting sunlight. A short wizened man with a drawn out face and two round beady eyes hobbled hastily over. He adjusted his minute spectacles and squinting said, “Ah, king I know you have a good reason for barging in on council, mind telling me what it is?” The small codger asked spitting violently as he spoke. He obviously was keeping back annoyance very badly.
“You will find out soon enough old man, now get to your seat!” The king said crisply. The man hurried too find a seat. The king sauntered up to the raised podium platform. The speaker beat a hasty retreat to his cushioned bench. The king cleared his thought violently.
Then he began, “Country men, friends, Iomirians,’ and he mumbled quietly, “and those I dislike. I have come to warn and tell of a danger lurking in our very streets; this,” he motioned toward the door as it flung open revealing a cage draped in a thick woolen cloth, “is why I have come.” Soldiers pushed with all their might to budge it into the room. A faint chewing noise was heard from within as a guard flung a hunk of bloody, dripping meat under the covering.
“Behold the enemies plot to destroy us and all good. I call this beast the shredder!” he shouted, his usually deep voice rising to a girlish scream. He walked quietly over to the cloth and tore it off. All mouths gaped open and eyes stuck fast at the beast within. It was the size of a large dog. It was reptilian and had scaly overlaping scales. It was an oak brown color with small splotches of moss green. It had a large horned head. It had small wings with strong tissue stretched from side to side. It had sharp teeth and large curved claws. Its small eyes darted rapidly around the spacious room. It seemed to survey its captors. It opened its jaws wide and inhaled deeply. Exhaling furiously it let out a piteously small gust of green fire. It was the terrible, and talked about dragon.
“The assumed fools babbling of reptiles with wings like bird‘s. They were speaking the truth. The enemy has somehow managed to tame the at least some of the beasts. By searching the alleys and abandon abodes we have found four including this one of the creatures. The enemy must have snuck them in through the unguarded sewer. We found claw marks under the ground level in them. Imagine an adult like this.” All of the spectators were awestruck. Many fell to their knees unconscious when it lunged against the bars. The iron bent but held true. It can only be assumed that the members of the council were imagining the small baby beast before them as a full sized giant. Tales of dragons only came from travelers that were missing limbs. They were having said to inhabit the far eastern lands of Iomir.
“What shall we do sir?” a senator questioned his eyes full of concern.
“I believe that if one of our men could try to trai…
“Impossible, who would be so foolish to go into the eastern lands and try to find a dragon egg that may be guarded by a mother dragon!” the small codger said, his face in a wry smile of triumph.
“Many will, when I offer my daughter’s hand in marriage for one who could succeed, and a reward of 10,000 gold pieces,” the king said his face relaxing into a pleased smile as the small one looked shocked and amazed. “Now, I believe I must make ready the criers to go and shout my message in their loud voices so go on talking of pig I have a kingdom to make sure is saved,” without further ado the king swung the doors open signaled the guards to remove the cage and strolled off. Criers announced brave men were needed for a heroic quest, and the reward was immense.
The following morn many there were waiting at the gates of the king’s palace. Some rich, some poor, some tall, some short. They all came hoping to have the honor of marrying the princess and saving the land. The boisterous crowd of men was silent as the gates opened and an official herald came out. He tooted loudly, and off key and then methodically unrolled a scroll.
He read aloud, “All potential saviors and suitors please in an orderly line make your way into the court yard and wait patiently for the kin…” The men pushed forward hastily knocking the minute herald down and rushing into the inner place. The poor herald resigned and left the city for a country life in the almost uninhabited Far East.
When the hustle ceased the king appeared on a balcony some 50 feet above all their heads. He grasped his scepter and wore his long robes. He smiled seeing the sea of heads all staring at him, the lust for marriage and money clearly evident in the fixed eyes.
He said loudly with a most prideful tone, “Announcing my fair daughter the princess Laxinia!” Then emerged from the innards of the castle, her dainty feet gently stepping onto the balcony princess Laxinia. Her beauty far surpassed the rumors. Her long blonde hair fell rippling like a stream of molten gold. Her gracefully curved nose was flanked by two eyes that resembled seas of the deepest blue water. Her lips curved in long delicate lines and her teeth proved to be as unblemished as a newly born ewe’s fleece. Her figure was petite and well shaped. Her arms were finished by the most soft and graceful fingers. Her long legs fell into the beautifully created feet. She was clad in a gown the color of the precious jewels adorning her neck and ears. They were sparkling green jade straight from the best of her father’s mines. An opal studded tiara was crowning her breath taking hair. Most importantly her nature was loving, and kind. Her anger unlike her father’s had never been displayed.
She now looked out fearfully amongst the large crowd. She had agreed to be wed, though her mind nagged at her saying what if the suitor was as ugly as the toads often seen hopping amongst the palace ponds. She smiled and curtsied. The men went wild clapping until their hands were quite red. Many elbowed their fellow man bragging of
what will happen when he would marry her.
The crowd once again died down as the king started to speak, “We will have a series of games to see which of you is worthy to attempt the quest. If he fails second place and so on will try right down to the last contestant. So now please go to the field of festivals for that is where they will be held. Also compliments of the castle there is ale for all and enough food for 10 royal banquets. At this a great cry almost a rival to the first went up and again all hurried to the gates and rushed out.
The field, of festivals was a long open plain perfect for foe fights, tournaments and celebrations. The king had established an arena with wooden bleachers and a sodden ring for the main events. Also silk tents were enacted for the feasts. The vendors took all this as a business opportunity and soon the field was encircled by carts and small collapsible stands. All of the folk in the city of Iomir hurried to pay their entry fee and get good seats. The event could be compared to the super bowl nowadays. The cost was 10 gold coins for adults, 3 for children. Some of the suitors were confused that they weren’t just going of in their quest. Some of the thicker skulled ones needed to be told many a time that only one of them was going. Then, at midday the king announced the games would begin. All the contestants shuffled in. The arena was spacious and each found a spot to listen
“Attention all contestants please make your way to the tables,” the king cried excitedly. A line of long tables were located to the right of the group. To these all of them went.
“Please select any weapon of your choice, make sure you are accustom to it and good at using it,” the king shouted. The potential heroes rummaged through the lot of swords, maces, bows and quivers, bills, spears, halberds, shields, and amour of every shape and size. Once every one was content they about faced and held their weapons at the ready.
The king shouted (Quite hoarsely), “please proceed out of the entrance and then we will call two of you by name. Those selected fight each other. The one who cannot fight loses. The winner then takes on a new challenger until only two are left. Then those fight and the winner is the one who can attempt to go on the quest.” The king sat down breathing heavily.
A crier came beside him and announced loudly, “Linearus versus Gumthor.” Two men walked in. Both were giants with arms to match. They seemed to both have around 50 summers worth of life. One had a two handed sword the other a long halberd. The crier blew a long shrill note on his trumpet and the two rushed at each other. The sound of clanking metal and the groans of pain when a stroke found its mark echoed loudly in the silent atmosphere. These so called “games” could end in death. Most often though one player gave up. Eventually Linearus with his halleberd was able to trip Gumthor and Gumthor surrendered most willingly with a blade hovering just inches from his jugular vein. Linearus went on to be defeated. Then Ramar a dark skinned man took the victor’s place. He defeated many but when only one was left he met a match. A muscular broad shouldered, long armed boy of no more than 16 summers wielding a great axe and a small buckler gave him a run for the crowd’s money. When he came in he faked that he was unable to use his axe. He piteously held out his shield as if he knew nothing. Ramar
Smiled at the easiness of his last opponent. He disregarded caution by throwing his Shield aside. Hopping to win in one stroke brought the scimitar he was holding above his head. He was about to swing when suddenly he hesitated. Maybe it was the look of fierceness in the boy’s eye, or the way he gripped his axe as a true warrior, but never the less the boy in an instant whirled the axe into his chest and Ramar fell back with a thud. His hide armor had protected him, but he now had a much greater problem. The boy was slowly inching forward shield held high, and axe expertly being held. Ramar stumbled up and fended off the blow laid upon him by the boy whose announced name was Dracos. He struck with enormous force and deadly accuracy. The fight went on Ramar struggling to fend the blows and Dracos struggling to finish Ramar. Eventually Dracos with a sneaky flick of the wrist and a follow up kick disarmed and fell Ramar. Ramar quickly surrendered. The princes gasped when she saw the young boy only years older than her the crowd was cheering at. Dracos raised his arms in victory. A legion of soldiers lifted him up and he was thus escorted to the banquet.
He had his place at the high table right next the princes. He was captivated by her beauty and she was thrilled that his young face was winsome and happy. They feasted merrily, but Dracos doubted his abilities. He was silently thinking he may fail, but he put up a façade so great all thought him confident and worthy. He feasted upon many foods, but drank just heavily diluted fine wine. For, he could not be drunk to start his quest. The king spoke praises and applauded the boy very loudly. (He had had a little too much ale.) Then Dracos had an intuitive idea.
“Sir, May I have a master black smith make me a special sword and shield,” he said Dracos inquisitively.
“Certainly, any thing you like!” the king exclaimed loudly. The feasting continued until late. Then Dracos slept heartily and peacefully.























Chapter 2
The venture into darkness

The next day Dracos awoke in his nice bed in his cozy palace room. He saw lying on the table next to him a sword of shining steel and a shield to match. The sword was excellently crafted. It was light and easily held. Its blade was razor-sharp and Dracos to test it cut through the metal door knob. It fell with a clank and the sword showed no sign of damage… It was adorned with a golden ridge down the middle and a ruby embedded in the hilt. The shield was of the same shining steel. It had a cross ridge of the purest yellow ore for strength and rubies studded it. They were fine master pieces and Dracos knew a black smith had stayed awake all night hard at work. He also saw, though not even asked for a suit of sparkling steel. It had a finely made helm. A breast plate that showed the proof mark that it was able to withstand arrows. He saw leg greaves, and a pair of light, flexible steel boots. He strapped them all on and picked up the sword and shield. He only then saw a leather scabbard under the table. It was attached to a belt. He slid his saber smoothly in. Then brandishing his shield he looked in the mirror attached to the wall.
He saw himself as a true knight. Not just the young brown eyes and brown haired mischievous boy. He was just a merchant’s son, but now he was on a quest that would lead him clear across the land of Iiomir. Far from home and friends. He may be captured, tortured, or killed. He knew that the evil one was not the only dangerous thing in the land. He knew of the strip of the barren desert he would be forced to cross. He knew of the forests that must be traversed. He knew of the enemies that he may encounter, but he did not care he was going and that was that. He turned with courage in his eyes picked up his pack containing vitals, and left his room. He would many times regret that decision.
We find Draco’s leaving the palace gates. The large gates were flung open and people flocked to see the chosen one. Most had no idea why he was going off. Some thought just to destroy the Lord of death. Only a handful of those gathered knew of the tamed dragons and the real point of the quest. Draco’s thought about what he had learned just that day. He had visited the dragon and had been shocked when it breathed a large gust of fire. It had obviously been practicing. He was afraid, yet thrilled by its majestic look.
His thoughts were interrupted by a split in the road. A sign post was staked into the ground. One side said “To the grove of remorse.” the other had written in bold black “The plains of despair” He knew both paths led to the same place, the mountain ranges that encircled Iomir as a natural wall. It was said that the ancients had spent millennia building the vast hills of stone. Others just said they were natural. He chose to go through the forest. He always had like trees. Little did he know of the many dangers lurking in wait for a quick meal there. He galloped off down the path on his chestnut mare. It snorted loudly and ran at a terrific gait. Dracos was unfamiliar with the saddle and his legs ached and his eyes could hardly see anything except the vague colors of blue and far ahead a vivid green. His legs hurt, but he looked ahead and ignored the timely jostle. He reigned his steed as the paved road changed to a gravely path that lead straight into a dense wall of trunks, branches, vines, and large cupped leaves. He unsheathed his blade and chopped viciously at the first clump of trees after he had dismounted. He took his mare and led her by the halter. Halter in left and sword in right. That is how he slowly hacked a path until he came into the section of forest that was more open and spacious. Along the whole of his arm the muscles ached. Sweat dripped down his face in never ending torrents. Small buzzing creatures annoyingly clung on, attacking his skin to get to the sought after prize, blood. He wiped the slowly growing drops of sweat aside, as he fell back in exhaustion against the trunk of a tree as round as an overweight pony. He held the reins loosely and closed his eyes. Just for a moment he thought. Suddenly his eyes jerked open. It was now dark and he made a torch of a nearby branch. His horse along with his supplies and vitals was gone. Now he had only the armor on his back, a small pouch of dried beef and a skin of water. He was only a rookie and yet one may question his smarts. I assure you he was not mentally slow. He was stricken with fear and panic. His quest was just started and he was missing his horse. He was not even into the part of the forests that contained the creatures. Yes, I know a butterfly could be seen hopping around and the pesky vampire bugs, and worms burrowing in the soil but farther in unscathed by humans lived creatures of which one could only dream of if quite intoxicated. Draco’s decided to continue. He did have a small field guide to Iomir. As he walked he flipped its pages. Unfortunately almost nothing was edible. He would see some pink clumps of plump, luscious berries and then when he got to their page it would have in red letters “-DO NOT EAT!!!-” Then his hopes would grow as he persevered long pods of light green with flecks of tangerine colored orange. It said they would once pulled off the vine explode in a mater of seconds. He cut a length of the vine with many foot long pods on it. Though he knew not of grenades he loped the vine around his chest commando style and instantly had protection. He made his way slowly through more foliage and finally found some small but tasty purple berries. As he progressed farther and father in. Eventually he drained his skin of its water and needed more.
He finally after miles of trudging through dense trees came to a small gurgling spring. He cupped his sweaty hand and threw the cold and sweet water over and over again on his warm face. Then he drank his fill and proceeded to fill his pouch. Though he had already traveled far he was still only reaching the; lands were the beasts prowled. The forest was thick and between day and night the same amount of light was seen, none. Draco’s sword in his sweaty hand and torch in the other slowly crept forward his eyes and ears wide open. He swung his torch around peering into a clump of deep green bushes hear or a hollow nook in a nearby tree there. When he slept he labored up into a tree with broad branches. Though he was not at all comfortable or warm he was at was relatively safe.
It the morn of the fifth day of wandering in absolute darkness when he finally encountered a beast. In what Dracos perceived as noon an annoying rumbling sound came ringing in his ear. As a small white bird swooped in the darkness a creature busted through the earth with its large jaws clamping open and shot rapidly heavenward. It captured the bird behind rows of sharp fangs and swallowed.
“Poor bird,” Dracos thought. He was hiding in a patch of leafy vegetation and accidentally broke a sapling twig. To his death Dracos always said that it was enchanted for it broke with the sound of a thunder clap. The beast’s head turned and wagged about. It let out a screech. Dracos scrambled for a tree and hurled himself up to it’s first branch. He climbed limb after limb, the beast slowly finding it was up the tree. The beast lacked legs but it’s slimy purple skin easily could slide up a tree. Dracos came to the highest branch, and looked doom straight in the mouth. The beast was just under him by a few feet. The tree swayed violently and Dracos almost lost the dried meat he had eaten recently. Then with a shout of courage and a quick steadying of the mind and the body he jumped his sword point down, his armor would have caught the sun if there had been any and his torch above his helm wielded as a club. He remembered the impact the sound of agonized death and the all black. When he awoke he was in a dark smelly place. The walls of his prison were sticky and only when he saw a skull of a beast floating in the goop he was wadding in did he remembered the leap. First he pondered the thought that he was being digest but only when he waited for a minute which felt like a decade did he relies the beast was dead. He found something in the liquids that he knew was a weapon and slashed a powerful downward slash. The darkness was little lighted by the outside world but half dragging half falling over the opening he finally was able to breath in nice cool air. He Felt in his pouch for his steel and flint and gently feeling into the unknown he caught on to a straight hard thing. He was about to yank on it when he saw from his slowly adjusting eyes it led into the mass of coiled rope-like pile. He saw eyes and nostrils and fangs. It was a massive snake hanging in a tree. He rapidly drew back and noiselessly found a branch. He lit up and saw the purple creature ten feet off. He went to it’s head. In those days any creature had magical parts that could fetch extra pay for one who was a brave hero or a lucky fool. He severed out the tongue and teeth. He gouged out the eyes and remembering how hard it had been to slice the hide with his weapon cut a length of hide off. Then he remembered the thing he was grasping. To his astonishment it was not his own. It was longer heavier, and it’s blade was white. He slowly came to the startling conclusion that it was a bone sword. He had heard than bones that were flexible and robust could be sharpened and used. Depending on the beast it could or could not have special properties. The saber was sharp and light. He liked it and it also had a diamond inlaid into the pommel. He decided to keep it. He threw his scabbard into some bushes and slipped the ancient blade into his belt. Then he took and used a combination of a thorn some strong spindly vine and some ingenuity to sow the skin over his slime covered shield leaving the handle strap sticking out. He looked like a jungle man with his bone sword, violet hide shield, and ragged unhelmed hair whipping in the wind. Dracos finally after the hard day’s walk saw light ahead. .He flung his torch which was still lit into a tree and the ran at top speed to the rays.










Chapter 3
The Town of Thieves

When he got out of the forest he found a chance to use his weapon of old and his novice shield. A giant tentacle like root yanked his ankle and he was pulled roughly down toward a beast. It was a green large, venus fly trap. It seemed to have become wild like the rest of the forest and it’s eyes seemed to be life like and it licked his fangs as he reeled in his catch, but his catch also had teeth and soon the fisherman felt them. Dracos swung his sword right through the limb and the beast shrieked in pain and pulled it’s appendage limply to it’s back. Then with new fury he let loose it’s two main tentacles. They were tipped with large yellow rotten leaves that let of a sleepy aroma and two prongs that injected venom.
Dracos side stepped a great vine lashed the ground next to him. It threw grass and dirt high into the air. Dracos inched his was forward fending of blows with his shield. His brow was creased and his teeth clenched as he withstood mighty blows. He finally after a long time was able to be within striking distance. He yelled a loud shout and plunged his sword smoothly into its gaping mouth. It screamed, but soon it recovered its strength and yanked Dracos high into the air. Dracos swung violently and soon with all the commotion his sash of vine fell to the ground. The thin pods bounced off and rolled near to the beast. Dracos pulled his shield in tight. He counted to himself, one… two… three. The pods exploded with relish hurled small spiked seeds about. The beast was not perturbed, but fate led one to sit near his great trunk. It exploded loud and strong and the beast with a mighty crash left it’s ancient hole to fall back and it lay still forever more.
Dracos pushed off his thick captor’s and stood up. His food was spilt, his water flask cracked, and his valuable beast parts were destroyed. He with only the armor on his back, his sword, and his shield trudged down the path leading to the looming moantains.

He after a hour’s march came to a town that looked as happy as a funeral. It was all black even the clock face on the town hall. Masked men, women, and children walked about all carrying sly smiles. The sign said, “The town of thieves please do not come in! ” In bold gray letters. Dracos was little intimidated and by that I mean horribly frightened.
He walked up to a man and said in a tone that showed not his feelings, “ Honorable sir, please explain werest the closest shop mighteth be.” This was the way to talk that was so as not to get a dagger in your heart, and to sound smooth as a dragons tongue. Then again a dragons tongue is filled with bumps and so was the man’s response.
He talked like a snake and looked like one with a drawn out lanky face and body. He responded quickly in a thick west Iomirian accent,” We dan’t lake strangars, but the stare is raght ovur there. Good lake making a gad deal thagh. Tha Crete is a hard barganer.” Dracos looked in his field book under western Iomirian accent and soon understood. He went to the building the man pointed to and opened the crooked door.
It squeaked on it’s ancient hinges loudly. Dracos hoped Crete wasn’t a troll though he wouldn’t be surprised to see a gremlin sitting at the desk on that day. Instead of a gremlin he saw sitting at a wooden desk surrounded by many shelves a handsome man in an aristocratic senators garb of rich ruffled clothing. He had a waxed mustache, and a long thin sword was sitting on his belt loose in it’s sheath. Ready for quick work, Dracos thought, but he wore a fake smile a put on a façade yet again to attempt to impress.
He coolly announced, “ I have heardeth that this shop seleth uh wares and goods, on the streeteth.” He said looking stoic and calm.
“Drop the accent and wide grin and talk like a man, then let’s get on,” the man replied quickly with a flash of a grin. Dracos was taken aback and just
listened to the man. “ Now what does a mountain man such as yourself want?” he asked in a less demanding tone.
“I have need of supplies for a journey over the mountain and possibly and guide,” Dracos replied.
“I can help with that all and I happen to know a good guide,” he said with a tone of sarcasm in his voice.
“Who?” Dracos asked.
“You are looking at him, but how about payment any gold pieces?” he questioned.
“No, but I do have the tongue of a beast from the grove of remorse. Big ugly purple fellow, tried to eat me,” with that Dracos removed the unspoiled tongue. It was caked in blood but was the color of an apple blossom.
The man stared at it and then said, “ That will do nicely.” He wrapped the tongue in brown paper and put it in his pocket. “Good dinner!” he remarked ina tone not joking. Dracos grimaced, but found himself again and talked over what he needed.
The very next day two set off from the town of thieves. The man now wore an iron breast plate caked in whether blood or rust Dracos knew naught, and brown leather trouser’s and a wethern stained cloak. His sword named “Slick” sat in his belt and he strapped on his back a wooden kite shield bearing a black X. He was known throughout as one not to mess with. Dracos was now fully stocked with good rations, a bigger flask, a woolen blanket, and thicker warmer clothes. He also had a scabbard made for his sword which had been seen by Crete and was amazed by it. He said that he had heard rumors, but to see a real one. He immediately offered much gold for it, but Dracos stood firm. Crete said that the least he could do was to buy his new friend a scabbard for it. Dracos also had the old seamstress better weave on his shield to the hide because the old vine lashing was falling apart. Both were ready for anything the mountains could throw at them or so they thought.
The first part of the trip was serene. The mountain springs were gushing with sweet, cold water and the sky was clear and shining the sun beat down happily. The mountain road was nicely paved with large grey stones, and the wind came from the north bringing cool breezes that strengthened and refreshed both. As they ate one night Crete put a finger to his lips. It was dark and suddenly to Dracos everthing looked erie and seemed to move and draw curved weapons.
“Dracos pull out your sword, goblins are near at hand!” Crete yelled as he yanked his sword free and wielded his shield. Dracos pulled out his own sword and brought onto his arm his great hide shield. The two stood near the fire waiting for the shadowy foes. The air was thick with tension and cackles of laughter rose among the darkness.
For the inexperienced in Iomirian monsters, goblins are creatures about as tall as a man, yet since their beginnings when they crept out of their deep chasms they have hunched over walking on all fours in a side ways manner. That is, until they find prey. Then they draw their weapons of which include finely wrought ones, for the goblins were handy with anvil and hammer. As they fight they stand bipedal like humans. They have high raspy voices, and are thin lanky and light weight. Excellent for light fast infantry, or since their climbing abilities are better than all the other Lord of Death’s creature, they are very good at ambushing. They love to sing wicked songs, and their prisoners, umm let’s continue.
The goblins began to sing,” Two scoundrels climbing a hill, we must kill, we hate men, and they hate us, so what’s the fuss, kill them now before it’s to late!”
“To late!” Crete shouted as he jumped into the shadows the clash of weapons was heard. Dracos followed finding a silhouette stabbed at it. His thrust was parried and a mace head collided with his shield. He stumbled and the fell. A dark shape loomed over him. It brought up a spear. The goblin thrust his spear down. Dracos rolled away in the nick of time and pierced into the goblins head. In the flames he saw it fall and die.
“Grab a brand from the fire and leave your shield,” Crete yelled as he met blades with a tall green goblin. Dracos grabbed a flaming branch and left his shield. Crete also grabbed a branch. Now Dracos’s eyes perceived a score at least of goblins covered in knee long jerkins of mail. Most fought with dual sword or two daggers, but their leader was in closed in plate armor, riding a black hog. The hog was unusually big and it’s tusked curled almost gracefully, though they were a sickening yellow. The tips were painted red, or maybe not. He was wielding a great mace and shjield the size of himself. Crete plunged through the crowd killing most, but having to block some skilled sword thrust. Dracos was fighting closer and closer to the big goblin, but as he did al of a sudden a small goblin lepton his back brandishing a dagger. Dracos was scarred, yet he brought his torch up, and stuck it in the goblins ugly face, The torch burnt the skin badly, and Dracos threw him down and with a stoic face thrust his sword down hilt and all. He pulled it roughly out and then went on to the leader. Goblin swine riders were quite common. Iomirian aristocrats explained that the smelly ride the smelly. Dracos finnaly reached the commander, he know had a spear in hand though his sword was loose in his belt. The spear was long and had a nice pointed tip. Dracos set in the ground and it stuck fast. He angled it a few feet off the ground.
Spear set, he mocked, “ Hey piggy, want some feed, oh and mister swine do yopu want some too!” That so angered the chieftain, for he was very vain even being an ugly goblin, that he charged at Dracos at a terrific speed. Dracos braced for Impact.









Chapter four
Blood

Dracos awoke in a cave. It was dawn or maybe dusk. He felt numb and confused. He called sickly to Crete. Crete walked over with a smiling face.
“ I was very frightened that you might not make it. You have a wound on your head that though not deep was bleeding very badly.”
“Am I going to live?” questioned Dracos still in a quiet voice.
“ Yes, you will though you may not be able to walk.” Crete said thoughtfully. Dracos hopped he could, but as he tried to get up his legs buckled under him and he slumped to the ground. Dracos sighed. He knew they had not enough provisions to last tem for a long period. He hoped that he would be healed soon.
“How, how did you fight all those goblins?” Dracos questioned weakly.
I didn’t, this did,” Crete responded a whim of wonder in his voice. He brought around Dracos’s sword. “You sword once you had fallen gave off a great light and fire flew from it. The goblins were terrified as they never mastered fire and light they loathe. I just stood there as all the goblins either fled or were burned.” he replied a glassy look in his eyes as he looked out over the mountain. “Your sword is no doubt special. If only you could wield that flame. I know someone who could help you in health and in the sword dilemma. He goes by, funny name, Merlin. He is ancient and has great knowledge. If you agree I could go to him and leave you with food and water enough.” Crete proposed. Dracos looked worried, but agreed.

More soon!
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