Ravaged Realms

Tales from the Ravaged Realms

This section include short stories from around the harsh world that is Ravaged Realms. They are meant to inspire and to bring more knowledge of the world. So sit back, relax and enjoy these exciting adventures.

The Tower of Akhlan

Gustaf bent his legs and arched his back from the weight of the heavy crate he was carrying. He gingerly walked down the stairs below deck and grunted audibly as he released the crate on top of a stack of four.

His arms rose in the air as he stretched his aching back. Who knew working on a merchant's ship would be this hard? His once fair skin was now tanned a leathery brown that matched his brown eyes and his brown locks that fell over his shoulders were now tangled with blonde, bleached by the strong sun.

"Stop daydreaming and get your arse up there and bring down the other crates!" a stern voice said behind him.

Gustaf jumped and looked behind him to see a tall elf carrying two similar crates that he was struggling to carry, one on each shoulder held with strong, lithe yet sinewy arms. His skin was the colour of ripened olives, aged in the sun. His long blond mane was tied back with a single black sash.
"You better not let anyone catch you stretching lazily there like a cat or it's likely the sting of the cat o' nine on your back you'll feel."

"Yes, Sir! Of course, Sir! Right away, Sir!" Gustaf stammered as he hurried past the tall elf and stumbled as he tried to run up the stairs. The elf laughed loudly as Gustaf tried to get up. "Humans..." The elf shook his head. "Always takes long to find your sea legs." he continued as he came forward and offered a hand to help the fallen man.

"You are one of the new recruits?" said the elf offering a surprisingly delicate hand, with long tapered fingers.
"Yes, Sir," Gustaf replied, a bit embarrassed. "My previous job was a tanner, like my father, but he fell into debt for not being able to meet the heavy taxes... So I had a choice to go to prison with my father, or get an extra job that could pay my family's debts and free him."
"I see" replied the elf. "You're not the first or the last shipmate with that kind of story" he said thoughtfully.

"My name is Gustaf Tanner, by the way" said Gustaf "...and thank you for helping me up."
"Eldril" said the elf.
"Sorry?" replied Gustaf perplexed.
"My name is Eldril, and you are welcome," the elf replied. "Now stop wasting any more time or as your senior shipmate, I will have to report your laziness" he continued.
"I'm not lazy!" protested Gustaf. "Like I said, I was a tanner's apprentice."
"Seafaring is very different from land work, my friend. Here there is no room for mistakes or dereliction of duty. Lives depend on it." Eldril stated solemnly.

Gustaf stared into the elf's cold grey eyes and saw a depth of great wisdom. Eldril's face, though with delicate features, such as a slim jaw and angled face, had a stern thin mouth and crows feet under his eyes. His olive skin was matured by the sun and on his neck was a visible scar made by a thin sharp object, possibly a sword, Gustaf reasoned. He was no stranger to sharp swords in his previous trade.

The two men returned to the top of the deck. Gustaf shaded his eyes from the strong sunlight as he watched Eldril hoist two more crates onto his shoulders as if they were filled with pillows, and disappeared down the stairs below deck.

He looked out across the deep blue ocean known as the Eversea. It seemed to reach out to the end of the world. In the distance, as the ship picked up in speed, he could see a tower rising out of the waves, almost reaching to the sky.

Eldril returned and noticed Gustaf staring off into the distance. "You skylarking now?" he said half joking, half serious. Gustaf turned to meet his gaze.
"What is that there...? ...in the distance?" he asked in awe.
Eldril glanced in the direction Gustaf was pointing. "Oh, that?" he replied. "That's where we're heading," he replied matter of factly.
"I see..." replied Gustaf. "But what is that place?"
"Don't you know anything, tanner's apprentice?" replied the elf. "That's the tower of Akhlan."
"It's majestic," exclaimed Gustaf.
"Wait until you see if up close," replied the elf. "It's breathtaking," he added.

"The tower reaches many miles high and is nearly as wide at the base as it is tall, that's including the surrounding city, of course," said Eldril.
"It's as tall as a mountain," exclaimed Gustaf in wonderment. "Who could have built such an amazing structure?"
"Well, the tower was built long, long ago, longer than any of my people can remember, and being a Wind elf, that is saying something. No outsider truly knows who or why the tower was built, except for the Wizard-Monks who live there." said the elf.

"Wizard-Monks?" Gustaf raised an eye brow. "What's a Wizard-Monk?"
Eldril scratched his head for a moment. "You know, I can't say... I have never actually seen them myself, but I have heard stories abouth these insane fighters who posses not only great physical prowess but also powerful magic. They are offically known as the Order of Akhlan, but we just call them Wizard-Monks, though probably not to their faces," Eldril laughed.
"The Order of Akhlan..." repeated Gustaf to himself. "The tower is called the Tower of Akhlan, you say? So who or WHAT is an 'Akhlan'?"
"Akhlan is going to be the sound of my foot up your arse if you fish wives don't stop your gossipping and GET BACK TO WORK!" shouted a hissing guttered voice.

Both Eldril and Gustaf turned pale with fright as the tall Draconian, Bosen Skerr approached them menacingly, the cat o' nine whip posed to strike.
"Aye, aye, Sir! Bosen Skerr!" the two men yelped in unison. Eldril shouldered two more crates as Gustaf hurridely grabbed the last one and stumbled down the stairs behing Eldril. With the deafening sound of gun shots, the whip cracked behind him. He flinched and Bosen Skerr's hissing laughter could be heard mocking him.

Gustaf ran down the stairs,tripping on the last stair. The crate he was carrying tumbled to the floor. "Be careful with that!" shouted Eldril as he reached for the crate and placed it on top of the others.
"Sorry, so sorry," replied Gustaf clumsilly. On the spot where the crate fell, he could see the glint of shining, like gold.
"What's in these crates?" he asked Eldril.
"It's none of your concern. Your job is to pack, not ask questions," said Eldril coldly.
"Yes, of course," replied Gustaf, feeling deeply ashamed. Eldril regarded the young man. He looked no more than - at most - 20 years old, whereas he was nearly ten times that in age.
"Besides, you wouldn't believe me if I told you"
"Oh?" said Gustaf perking up. "Tell me, please. I must know," he pleaded scarecly hiding his curiosity.
"It's magic..." said the elf, his lips forming a complacent smile.

More stories coming soon!