Mark of the Ranger

Prologue

(Cover Art is courtesy of my artist, NirraTam)

          The meeting of the Rangers had begun. "Outlands," the head councilor called out.

          "Here," called out the Outland Rangers, wearing their purple ranger gear and crow's head masks. It was necessary for the head councilor to hear vocal confirmation of a Ranger Corps' presence, to prove they were willing to be there. Not to mention, this head councilor was bind. "Highlands," he said. The Highland Rangers responded eagerly, always the energetic people. Their gear was a dark brown, and they wore ox horns on their helmets.

          The head councilor called for the Badland Rangers. "Here!" they shouted, pumping their left fists into the air. All Badland Rangers were left-handed, and they wore red gear with iron helmets. "Woodlands?" the Woodland Rangers sounded out, wearing their first green gear and carved wooden masks. The head councilor proceeded to the next land, the land he dreaded calling for the most. "...Deadlands?" he received no response. This was not unusual. The Deadland Rangers rarely responded. "Are the Deadland Rangers not present?" the head councilor asked with exasperation.

          "No," each Ranger Corps said, land by land, with growing trepidation. The head councilor was panicked. The Deadland Rangers always showed up, even if they didn't sound off. What possibly could have happened to them?

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          "Don't worry, it's not much farther!" the snow elf cried to his friends. He and two other Deadland Rangers, a human and an Asmerian, had been sent to the summit of a tall mountain. The snow elf was unsure about what its name was, but he didn't ask questions. The human smiled. "Hear that, Lenny? It's not much farther!" he called to Lenny, the Asmerian that had been accompanying them. The snow elf was nearing two hundred years now, so he knew enough to bring an Asmerian on every trip. 

          "He's a snow elf, Carl," Lenny grumbled. "'Not much farther' could mean anything." Carl climbed up to the ridge where the elf was resting, followed by Lenny. "Where's the summit?" Lenny asked. The snow elf pointed up. The distance to the summit was only about twice Lenny's size. They could reach it with their bare hands. "Oh," Lenny grunted. His ears perked up. "Do you hear a crackling sound?" he asked. Carl and the snowy elf turned slowly, as they could hear the crackling sound.

          Infernas, king of the Scorch Knights, was standing behind them. He looked as glorious and terrifying as always. His silvery black armor shone in the winter light. Fire came from the top of his helm like a plume. His eight-foot-tall body towered over even Lenny. The snow elf could see Infernas' legendary blade, the Kraken Crusher, mounted on his back. The snow elf blinked, hoping Infernas was a mirage.

          Infernas drew his enormous blade. The hilt was a mossy green, with an emblem of a Kraken on the hilt. The blade was a pure, reflective silver. "Fall, Deadland Rangers," Infernas rumbled. He raised the Kraken Crusher and...swung.

          Needless to say, the band did not survive. No, Infernas slew them like he did with the rest of the Deadland Rangers.