Chapter III

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This chapter has been dedicated to thehallowist234

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Trevan

The night was dark upon them as they silently crept through the muddy quagmire. The tall canopy of trees and absence of moon were their only allies, striving to camouflage them. Trevan peeked back and saw a stretch of trees and nothing else except the rare faint sound of brisk movement. There was no chance of being spotted . They crept forward, ever closer to the target. Trevan who was scouting ahead, was suddenly aware of a watcher.

Instinct took over, he rolled hastily to take cover behind a rock and saw a spear poking out from the ground he had stood on a breath ago! Hail Raguela, he prayed with relief. He immediately peeped over the rock and saw the tail of a cloak disappear behind a tree. He notched an arrow and let it fly almost straight up. The arrow disappeared over the tree top. For a second nothing happened. Then he saw a glistening, silver arrow tip racing down the other side of the tree, eager to get red. He reached the enemy's hiding spot and saw him lie slumped against the tree with an arrow sprouting out his head.

Trevan's worry was quenched when he saw no sigil, no emblem - a mere scared traveller. He plucked his Arrow and returned it to its quiver. He took a step and another and another and suddenly found no solid ground as his leg fell into emptiness pulling the rest of his body.His chest lurched forward.He gave his body a jerk and twisted himself around, his back facing into the unknown abyss. His one foot flew up due to momentum, the other felt the edge of the precipice as he free fell face up. His hands frantically but unsuccessfully fluttered to grab for anything to hold on to. His stomach squeezed and his back felt strong gusts tug against it. Puke rushed up his throat.

Suddenly, he felt a pull on his jerkin shirt near his stomach. His whole body - bones and puke and all juggled inside him. Another pull and he was nearing the edge. A final pull and he found himself and giant Bob panting hard, still nauseously close to the fall. He managed to mutter ,"thanks" between his short breaths. Trevan marshalled his courage and made himself look into the depths of the chasm. It got dark with every inch till you couldn't say the bottom ,but somehow his body would have found it if giant Bob had not come.

His eyes followed the other side of the chasm. The other side had no flat land but was instead a steep slow that climbed higher and higher and ended 200 metres above with a plateau upon which stood a dreadful, intimidating castle, ever unyielding. They had to cross the chasm, climb the slope and infiltrate the castle. His mere 300 men had to do this but first they had to get to the other end of the valley without falling, somehow. Somehow.

Paramount importance still was to infiltrate the fortress of ...

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Micura

Sweat enwreathed Orwen's forehead as he struck the armoury's granite, charred wall with the practice metal blade. A constant din of sharp screeches filled the air. Suddenly, anger welted in his mind. He struck the sword heavily, blow after blow , muttering between his heavy breaths after each strike," who...gave...Arthur...permission...to...order...my...daughter's...assassination!.." He screamed the last word as his blade shattered against the wall leaving only the hilt in his hand.

Micura observed his king's trauma from afar, worry flooding him.He felt nothing but sympathy, Wingbearer's only heir was dead. He approached Orwen loudly and announced," King of Cobardon and ruler of Fort Wingbearer". Orwen turned around and eyed Micura, then smirked and said,"more like usurper Orwen if the news you bring isn't good."Orwen tossed the hilt to the ground and declared," Speak." Micura cleared his throat and said,"Napemol with all its might has fallen."

"Good", muttered Micura and then his face aged a million years as he grimly spoke," The dragon rides. We have let it fly too long, too far. It is time we cut its wings." Micura spoke defiantly, "The Dupark are our strongest banner man." Orwen abruptly ended the argument, "and they will soon start to think they are stronger than us. Unleash the hell hounds!" An uncanny smile crossed Orwen's face. "As you say, ser", Micura obliged reluctantly.

He mounted his horse and started riding hard to make Maegor's hill. Micura reached the monumental hall of Lampstar and rapped on its humongous doors, reverence echoing in the knocks. It opened with a grunt as old,rusted hinges turned after hundreds of years(literally) and a timid figure hidden in a black linen cloak,brushing the crystal clear marble floor, tapered with red border appeared.

"It is time", Micura meekly managed to voice out. The letter in his hand flew away hovering in front of the wizard for a while. Micura could not make out one detail of the legendary,immortal sorcerer, its face hidden behind an layer of procured shadow. The alchemist snapped his fingers and the letter crumbled in the air and incinerated to ash that fell at his feet and lazily blew away. The sorcerer flipped around and gestured Micura to follow. The necromancer walked with fluidity, never before seen, almost sliding over the solid floor as if it were a layer of butter. Micura wondered whether the wizard's feet even touched the ground but alas he couldn't find for it was hidden behind the cloak. He had to jog to keep keep up.

Suddenly, the sorcerer stopped and turned. On turning Micura saw a sight only a luck few had ever seen - an impossibly,large intimidating door with frost on its knob and icy blue streaks running across the door like thin streams of water. The doors flapped open and a heart-chilling wind rushed past his face. The sorcerer spoke for the first time, but in a language long forgotten,something malicious. He heard a bone-chilling chant rise through the air - 'Feed on flesh - human and dragon as long as they fly the dupark flag.' 4 shadows of white with ripples running across their plate armour emerged out of an uncanny, obscuring halestorm. One of them unsheathed a sword from a scabbard attached to its back.The sword also rippled, it was a shade icier then the being itself. Beasts of The Nameless.

Cold to beat the heat! Ice to beat fire!

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The structure of the castle and cliff in Trevan is a little similar to my background image.

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