A fantasy novel about five people trying to retrieve a sacred stone.
|Xarros walked with pride toward the town of Trath. He had been chosen to find the Stone of Helius, a sacred stone made by the legendary Dethadow herself. His tribe, the Woodland Elves, have been under bad weather condition for months, and it's getting worse. The tribe's Elders decided to send Xarros, the decedent of the great Warrior King Xandra, to retrieve the Stone of Helius. Located in Guardian of Helius, a group of islands, the Stone of Helius is extremely hard to get. The journey across the continent of Glazia itself is a dangerous feat, especially in this warring time, crossing the Strait of the Scourge would be nearly impossible. The Haunters are battling against the Protectors all across the land. Being a Protector tribe, the Woodland Elves rarely leave their Forest except for occasional fights. Xarros went on the quest anyway.
Xarros rested in Trath for several days before moving on South towards the land of Humans. He entered a dense, creepy forest. The deeper he entered, the more eerie the atmosphere grew. He continued on into the forest until he walked to a point that everything was silent around him, except the bird's chirping, but in this place, even the cheerful chirping of the birds sound terrifying. Xarros planted every step with almost no sound at all. Suddenly he heard a gruff voice whispering behind the thick bushes. Xarros carefully notched an arrow and aimed towards the source of the sound. Minutes pass by, but Xarros neither heard a sound, nor spot a moving thing. Strange, Xarros thought. Accidentally, he released the arrow he notched and it hit a target. A roar of agony escaped from the bushes, and in a matter of seconds, Xarros was surrounded by several Gorgs. Gorgs are humanoid creatures, but with a smaller brain than other species, and has better physical properties than most creatures. One Gorg can tie with a pact of wolves in a fight.
I'm dead. Thought Xarros.