“KEEP RUNNING! DO NOT FUCKING STOP! IT’S RIGHT ON OUR ASSES!” I screamed at the top of my chest with what little breath I could keep beating in and out of it. I dared a glance back over my left shoulder, eyesight clear of my quiver yet still filled with smoke. I could not see it past the canopy of leaf covered branches, but we all could hear it tailing us since we left, Xaliade. The sweet floral smell of the Palladium Forest, its tranquility that was so blissful and so peaceful now chocked us with smoke and ash. My armor grew heavier with each labored stride, sweat soaking through my cotton under cloths and leather padding. “WE ARE CAPTAIN, FOCUS ON YA OWN TWO FEET!” Gorrax bellowed back in a similar distressed and breathless tone, the large Orc was at a panic. That is rare form for him, as a Paladin he always stood stoic and never wavered no matter what fate dealt us. “I’M SORRY! I’M SORRY! I’M SORRY!” Logan cried as he ran at the front of our group, his tears steamed away before they could even touch the dirt. Logan had one job as our thief, to pick a lock. This human absolutely had the worst luck imaginable. The pick itself breaks, and he would manage to be audible enough to wake up a dragon. “LOGAN YE’ SORRY SACK OF HORSE SHIT! I SHOULD HAVE LEFT Y’UH BEHIND YE’ FUCKING IMBECILE!” Brunhildie, the last member of our group screamed at the top of her lungs, fury hotter than the dragons fire nipping at our heels. She was all dwarven rage now, but she didn’t mean it. Give them two a few pints of mead and they’ll be singing by the campfire before it’s even lit. The long-lived ancient forest was well on fire and spreading faster than a rumor of war on the horizon. The four of us couldn’t tell what direction we were running, the distance we had sprinted for our lives, or for how long we had. If the dragon didn’t burn us to a cinder, then the smoke would surely suffocate us. We were going to die if we did not vacate this forest and fast. That thought, as quickly as it came just as quickly, shot right from under me in a heartbeat. My eyes could only widen as I looked down and sure enough there was no grass, no dirt, no foothold to be stepped on. Just open air with eight lungs tearing out screaming swears, and a long fall with a flowing river below.
My name is Karna. I find it pertinent to tell you a little about myself before I tell you how me and my companions got into this mess. In these lands of magic and adventure my kind are known as Abyssals. At first glance you would think of me and my kind demons. Perish the thought, my scarlet skin is thick and resilient. I could dance in a bonfire and not change a shade, but it’s not that way for all of us. If you see a black or white abyssal, they have a resilience to the cold, not the heat. I know of a clan that lives just around the peaks of mountains, only the dead match their love of the cold. We also have tails and having a tail is as fun as it is useful, until it gets stepped on. Or yanked. Or rolled over at a bad angle in your sleep. Okay, having a tail is a minor nuisance but I love mine, so I digress. Abyssals also have horns, sometimes. I do not but I have seen a variety of differing kinds, and they have about the same amount of purpose as they do for Draconians. Status and esthetics. My race of people comes from a realm of darkness and pain. When no matter where you look, all you see is bloodstained brimstone and voidfire pits. Long rungs of void black nothingness peppered with streaks of wisping moonlight that burns the very soul with a cold to match. Where shadows scheme and conflicts are ever present, my race of people were lucky to be saved and given refuge on this world. That is, at the moment, irrelevant though. What is important is where we are now.
This world is known as Edenia, and my home exists in the nation of Alysium ruled over by the empire of the same name. The Alysium Empire is old, yet the most iconic piece of history that it has, is one man has ruled justly and leads a nation honorably. Emperor Viktor Iroris Yeltsin, he is my eternal lord, my immortal liege, and my honored mentor. Ever since my youth he had taken me under his wing and taught me what it was to be a man with honor, dignity, and compassion. As I got older, he educated me on the finer points of nobility, duty, leadership, and a many of other things. I lived in the barracks with the troops, but I was raised as if I was one of his own, and he did not slack in that. I was disciplined for my wrongs and praised for my accomplishments. He is like a father to me, and I am a son to him.
He is many things to me but right now he is also the man that ordered me and my companions on this fool's errand. I’m not sure what he expected, but we should have let this damned book burn for the trouble it has been worth. This accursed ancient magic tome, written by a long dead foolish mortal in the language of gods and deities. This book radiates pure arcane energy, the whispers of forbidden knowledge ever creeping from the edges of it pages. Its cover was made of hide. A golden scaled hide to be accurate. I don’t understand why he would want this under national protection. I argued with him that it should remain where it is chambered. A hidden sanctuary, lost in a forgotten ruin, buried under the ass of a dragon that hasn’t been a problem for us or the surrounding areas. “My lord, I’m not one to nitpick at your decision making. Yet I find myself seeing an irregularity in this task you ask.” I said to him that morning he summoned me to the palace war room back home.
“Aveticus Quaildroma. This tome is a rare volume on topics of matters not meant for our realm. I, as well as our allied high kings, agree that it would be better off if it was attained, and after such it will be destroyed and if arcane protections so happen to hamper that, we can keep it under lock and key.” He took a moment to look me over as he discarded a simple short sleeve silk robe. The emperor was always a modest man, he has a closet full of ten thousand gold pants, shirts, shoes, and robes. He preferred the same simple and basic cotton shirts and wool pants he typically wore. The empress cherished this about him, I think we all did actually. I did not bother trying to mask my worry with confidence. For even if I did, he would read me like an open book or use that mastery of the Leilines to scuttle the surface of my heart and sense what I truly felt. “This wouldn’t be the first relic or artifact I have sent you after, tell me Karna what troubles you with this one?” Yeltsin had said to me with his usual tone, ready to motivate me like the fatherly figure he is. He always seemed at ease, so sure of what he says, and it radiated from him.
“Well, my lord. Let us start with the obvious of the problem.” I set down the thick stack of scout reports from the past month on the large, enchanted oak table and leaned against it with my elbows resting against its surface. I cupped my callused hands together as my armor clicked and looked at my lord in his golden eyes. “The dragon? Limited information on that front. Scale color, age, and gender would be a benefit to know. I would hate to be equipped with fire defense when I get spit on with acid. Secondly, these ruins that it made into a nest. And let us be honest if it is a female, it is a nest. That dragon will be quite vexed if we are caught in her home uninvited. Lastly, what guarantee do we have that these ruins are the ones that hold the sanctuary? I have no problem going artifact hunting my lord, but it would be wasted time if I were gone to retrieve nothing at all and a problem arises in the cities.” I had replied to him. I stood back up to my full height, spine tingling with a familiar sensation. It had just been us in the war room. The sounds of the palace staff could be heard on the other side of the large, enchanted ironwood doors, which had been reinforced with blackened steel. The pitter pat of steps large and small, leather and metal soles scuttle this way and that. A familiar cadence of footsteps had started towards the doors. I knew these footsteps well, the way the steps echoed purpose and authority with each stride. The even and balanced rhythm between each meeting of heel and floor. They belonged to a man who taught me as much as Yeltsin had, but he trained me to be the best solider our kingdom could ever forge. Captain-General Relneiros Summerbreath. A man of elven decent respected for his valor, duty, and combat prowess. He is second-in-command of the nation’s military and was my personal instructor and mentor.
He is almost as old as Emperor Yeltsin and equally wise. Everything from military strategic planning to basic wilderness survival I had learned from him. At this current point in time, in the whole of the empire, I am without a doubt the best swordsmen our nation has produced. There are plenty of others that are capable of combat with a blade, I know this well because I aided in training them. Let me tell you though if Summerbreath was a century younger he would best me with ease. Even now this old, battle-hardened elf could keep up with the best of the vets, and still honors me with a sparring session when our schedules allow for it. He came through the doors dressed down in leather training armor bearing the empires sigil on the pristine white tabard. With his eyes down on fresh reports held in his left hand, a cup of tea graced his lips, and his mood, held in the right. The smell of bitter mountain roots and desert spices stung my nose as the odor got closer. He gently set the cup down on the large table as he joined us. “My Lords. I have some expedited field reports from the immediate area surrounding Xaliade.” He acknowledged us in his typical professional tone, sliding the reports he had been studying next to a small stack of request for my service I had yet to sift through. These reports from a quick glance appeared to be the answers to my questions, but I know too well appearances can be deceiving.
“These are?” I asked with modest curiosity as I picked up the field reports. The one at the bottom was of larger size I noted. I could feel the creased edges of its folds tickle the surface of my fingertips it felt like cartography parchment. “Scouting notes of the ruins from the last two weeks, and a map that should grant you a few ways of entrance and exit. Knowing you and your band of ruffians, I’d venture to guess that you lot will be able to find an imaginative way to get to the sanctuary.” Summerbreath had said before taking a sip of his tea. “Acquisition should not be a problem for you and the others. The last one was far more difficult than this.” He was not aiming to be condescending, yet I could not help but feel a slight hesitation to his tone. He didn’t fully believe his own words.
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“If I only needed to explore the ruins, pick a lock, and leave with a dusty book, that would be true. The unknown factor is the sanctuary itself, even if I get past the blasted dragon.” I spoke as I thumbed through the reports studying them in detail. The scouts had done the best they could, given the circumstances on this one.
“Field report, 1st regiment Scout recon officer Cadia Dasari
Day 2: Approach of Xaliade, experienced its first set back. Upon entry of the expanded area, the leilines began to become more sporadic and unstable. Magic sensitive troops within the eight-man unit were sent back to camp to continue mission progression of assigned task. Three men continued forward with me at the forefront of the remaining unit.”
“Day 8: Heavy rain pour has hampered our progression into the ruins, rerouting up and over the cliff edge to scout out any possible paths of progression. Confirmation of a beast at minimum 15 meters in length. Possibility of dragon is set to first assumption. Mission scrub pending on confirmation.”
“Night 12: Cartographer has met mission parameters. Troop sent back to camp, three-man unit will continue forward to set a predetermined path of advancement for Commander Karna and company. Recommend course of action: To be determined, further advancement into hot zone required for detailed approach.
“Day 15: Visual confirmation, yet to be attained. Though the roar from the ruins, Xaliade, is confirmation enough for us to avoid further exploration into the ruins. The roar itself was weak and flustered, similar to the yawn of an exhausted bear. The dragon may be going down for hibernation. Recommended course of action to be dictated by Captain-General Summerbreath or Commander Karna. Recommended course of action: full mission abortion, dragon roars with the depth of adult vocal cords. As per regulation with the Alysium Accord, confrontations are to be determined and actively engaged by high command only. Scout squad ordered to return to capital for safety of the troops and civilian passers in the local area.”
“Well fuck me. That’s unfortunate.” I muttered under my breath, becoming fully aware I would not be home for a while. “It is advantageous, if you approach the situation carefully.” Yeltsin had spoken to me. “The guess on scale color should be easier to figure out. I would venture to say a bronze or golden. Hibernation in mid-spring fits their recorded habits.” He had finished his thought with the reminder of his worldly knowledge. “If it wakes, it will not be as amicable to our presence as it would if we approached while it was bearing gifts of flesh and gold. But if it slumbers then stealth would have to be our first plan.” I had thought aloud, Summerbreath nodded in agreement. “This is the extent of knowledge we have on this objective?” I asked my lords, with polished words and fleeting confidence. “Yes.” Summerbreath replied flatly. “You’d best be off to collect your accomplices. I am in no rush to collect this artifact, but if my memory serves me right today marks one week until your anniversary. Best not to be late again this year.” Yeltsin had stated so matter of factly, not mockingly but jokingly. He even made Summerbreath chuckle lightly. “Well, if my wife’s father would be so kind as to explain my tardiness if it so happens. After all he is the one sending me out relic hunting on limited knowledge. Might take some time to gather the proper facts and equipment on this venture.” Yeltsin couldn’t help but smirk at my remark, he is a good father and father-in-law, he wouldn’t leave me out to hang, at least does his best not too.
My wife, Talia Mariana Yeltsin, is the bright light that gleams in my dark world. She is intelligent as she is beautiful, compassionate as she is stern, and as loving as any goddess of life and birth. We’ve known each other since we were mere children, she has been my best friend and only love all these long years. Her brother Magnus, the strongest of my friendly rivals and longest standing friend, kept our relationship secret for the longest of times. Bless his soul, he got reprimanded and a slightly harsh punishment when the truth became known. First to their mother, second to their father. I shared that punishment with him, nothing strengthens a bond of brotherhood as latrine duty. I had been close to the family for quite some time, earning my status fairly. Viktor always had a soft spot for me, mostly because of how he brought me into the fold. He told me once, on a long winter night, one of his greatest regrets. He believes, with all his being, that my past is entirely his fault. It’s one of his greatest qualities, and his daughter shares that same trait. She knows when to hold herself accountable, no matter what her level of involvement. I appreciate her for all she is, and everything she’s done, but I don’t think she can say the same for me at times.
“Karna! Where are you?!” Talia bellows as she approaches the war room, maidens on her heels. The three of us in the room shared a look.
“What did I do this time?” I asked slightly panicked.
“I would love to answer that my boy, but alas I’m at a loss.” Yeltsin exclaimed, jest and laughs lost at the tone of his vexed daughter. Summerbreath simply rested a hand on the hilt of his sword that never left his hip and sipped his tea as he continued to read reports on local affairs.
“What the fuck.” I said strained. From around my neck, I pulled a yellow crystal that hung off a silver chain link necklace it hummed with a soft arcane resonance. It is one half of a set, and both enchanted for long distance telepathic communication. I tapped the gem to activate the magical effect.
“Yes, my love. I’m in the war room.” I thought clearly and fluidly.
“Good, is my father and the captain-general with you.” Her voiced bellowed in my mind and rattled the walls of my skull. She was all business this morning, was up and on her top of her duties before dawn had even crept of the horizon.
“I can hear you. Please don’t shout love, it hurts. Yes, they are here with me, briefing me on my next assignment.” I relayed to her.
“Good. No, we are not.” She said mentally and verbally as she came in through the doors. She cut the connection between the gems with a wave of her hand. The women of this family line were blessed and loved by the leilines; magic bowed to their every request. She took a moment to compose herself and give a formal bow before she spoke again. “Emperor, Commander, Captain-General. I must protest this ridiculous mission. We have more pressing matters then a dusty old book, that need I remind you only five people between our allied nations could even attempt to read. As well as this being at most a hunch and at worst a myth.” She was all business today, and for valid reason. As the empire’s ambassador of foreign affairs, she negotiated and maintained relations between Alysium and allied kingdoms of old and new. The peace our nations hold has been an intricately woven tapestry of trust, aid, knowledge, and of course, gold. These relations are of significant importance to Alysium, and its people. Like people, no nation can survive on its own. There’s never been shame in seeking aid from others and it’s only as natural to offer aid to those of like mindedness or those in dire need of it. Talia managed all of that and built upon it more. Yet in this moment, my wife was vexed not with her duties nor with this briefing. She is annoyed that her husband is about to run off on another suicide mission collecting artifacts of danger.
“Talia this tome is dangerous because the knowledge it holds. There are chances, not matter how light and little, that an enemy to any of the nations could venture to attain it for nefarious ends.” Summerbreath didn’t bat an eye from his paperwork and spoke to her with respect and confidence. “Be that as it may, it is held within a sanctuary of equal power. Lost within the ruins of an ancient draconian city, protected by what we should assume is its last guardian. This is no meager relic hunt or predictive prevention. What you seek to attempt to do will cause a disruption of the peace the surrounding villages and towns have.” She put on her ambassador face and tone, my wife did not know how to back down. I found myself being lost in the sight of her beauty and courage, her slender and toned frame showing itself beyond her silk dress. As smart as she was her father made sure she was equally fit and capable enough to defend herself if the need arose. If the situation ever demanded it, I could be to her protection in an instance. What kind of husband would I be if I couldn’t rush to my wife’s side when I would be needed most. Her golden eyes locked on to mine, and her honey voice brought me back to ground. That’s when I realized I had a slight grin on my face and all eyes on me.
“My lord, is there anything you would like to say on the matter?” She asked with less sweetness than I get outside this room. I heaved a sigh and began to say, “I agree with the captain general. This artifact is better off destroyed or held under our protection, if it poses as a dangerous a potential as we have discussed. Agreed upon by the heads of the nations and ordered this task be done, by our emperor himself. If these are to be his orders to me, then…” she proceeded to finish my statement for me. “It is your duty as the emperors' crimson fist and the guardian of Alysium, to protect its lands and people from any threat no matter the cost.” She pinched the bridge of her nose, realizing the amount of work it would take to convince a hand full of high kings, her father, and the captain-general to see her reasoning. “At the very least, my lord, gather what information you have too before you venture forth towards certain danger. I have no doubt in your ability to combat a dragon, if it is young enough.” Now the worry has entered her tone of voice. This is an advocation of a concerned lover wanting her other half to return home, safely and unharmed. “I will do everything necessary to return home successfully and in one piece, I do have a prearranged engagement that I would hate to miss, my lady.” I moved around the table and offered her my arm as I reassured her with all the comfort I could offer. “I believe you have a meeting with Koga Khan of the nomadic Draconian Khan clan at noon, my lady. I have accompanied their messenger and corrected the situation of their wronging.” I struck up a conversation of her daily duties to ease her mind off me and my mission. “My lords, a blessed day to you both.” She gave a formal curtsy to her father and the captain-general before taking my arm. She looked at me with a warmth in her eyes, the same thankful look she gave me when I had fixed a situation she believed to sensitive for our regular troops to be assigned too. What followed after we left the war room, would be a record for the ages.
