Chapter 1

So it begins

Our savior, our savior, is one of the ruff.

Whom can't afford mead, in the tankard.

For who we have no clue but if sought we would scoff.

Our hero, our hero looks not very tough.

With skills unlike others with no ale in it's cup.

We drink for our hero, a toast to it's luck.

For the darkness, for the fallen kings.

For the danger, for our crushed dreams.

For the starting, of our suffering.

For the end our, hero shall bring.

For the acts of, this no one.

We don't know of, he or she has done.

Our hero, our hero, is one of the ruff.

With skills unlike others, this hero is tough.

With an ancient power of an ancient art.

We won't know of it, until of it's start.

Until the day, the darkness has come.

I rolled my eyes at the bard, some ancient hero in our dark times. I leaned on the musky wall and watched her crowd drink their mead and dance in relish of the dark song. Of course nobody here would listen to the actual words, the voice of the bard was either soothing, calming, and above all else beautiful. The drunken common cloth wearers, wouldn't seem to care either way. I used to be in the bards college, well until they figured out I wouldn't take requests or sing much for others. The songs I sung were made up and not written in some old scroll like they wanted me to. I for one, did not feel the need to talk and sing about legends or the constant war. I pulled the hood I wore over my face. It was a stolen hood from an apprentice mage but I couldn't care less, the apprentices their were spoiled in my opinion. Any idiot could cast magic if they had the aptitude for it, even I could cast a few spells if needed too.

"Welcome to the bardstress my lady, can I interest you in anything?" I gazed up at the old coot bartering the inn and I shook my head.

"I just came in to listen to a few songs and warm up, I will be on my way soon." the old man grumbled and walked away, I watched his movements carefully and ended up gazing back at the bard.

There once was a man named Theros the twitch.

Whom lived far north in cold, Tarkenton.

He slayed giants and mammoths with the swing of his club.

The blood of his foes stained the ground and the snow.

Until a high mistress became his old foe.

For what reason he would never know.

The blood thirsty Theros was taken, aback from the lady's skill.

Who banished his soul, upon the mountains and hills.

And they say every year a traveler dies.

From seeing his corpse with their own vary eyes.

The truth of the story has a lesson.

To never mess with the mistress of Torkentesson.

For they say your soul will walk the road.

And forever you will live in much woe.

"My lady! You are such a beautiful singer!"

"Where did you learn so sing so well?"

"Got any mead or ale for the lady? We shall raise our tankards in her honor!"

The drunken fools were getting on my nerves, it wasn't much of a song rather then how fast she could actually say the words. This province was filled with so much death and war that I couldn't help but try passing the boarder. Ozark back in the days of peace seemed so much more beautiful, without the constant death or the undead walking around in burial chambers, or the very fear to walk anywhere outside the city. It was completely over with sadness, I felt bad for people here they drowned their misery in the pubs and inns but they could never escape the fate they already accepted. Which is war, and their hanging off the promise of the war to be done.

The war was split into three, the group of high elves that called themselves the Royals of elvenkind seemed arrogant and wanted their way to be forced onto Ozark. Then we have the empire, who are made up of the basic people of Ozark. Their ways still didn't seem very convincing to me, for part of them wanted to be at peace with the Royals who in my opinion were stuck up elf's. The last side was were just as at folly as the two other sides, the Landstakers were as well mostly made up of the basic people of Ozark but their leader apparently assassinated the emperor and all he really wants is power. It is said he had the ancient power of the hero and killed him easily, but I'm pretty skeptical. The other people of Ozark seemed torn, the Orcs wanting to side with the empire and their most trusted friends Ogres agreeing with the Landstakers. Wood elf's weren't fully supportive of anyone, so their race split up and have been arguing amongst themselves. The untamed races didn't seem to care at all for the war and just went on with their ways, and lastly the Angelia did care but couldn't really pick a side if anything they never picked up weapons but used they magic capabilities to heal wounded from either side, causing many false claims and distaste among others for helping every side furthering the war.

I was part of the untamed race, we were light on our feet and generally sneaky. I didn't care much for the war and honestly I don't think I will. I just wanted to get out of here, and I was in shape I had just enough gold to take me to the boarder. I would walk into Kraal easily, Kraal wasn't as beautiful as Ozark but it was less depressing. The Kraal was mostly run by the Angelia, so it was bound to be a peaceful place.

The age of anger is just about done.

The land of Ozark is blissfully so.

The age of darkness is bout to roam.

Down with the war, the killer of men.

When two of which fall, we'll drink and amend.

For the anger of sides have killed kings.

For they have sullied our hopes and dreams.

For this land is not ours, as blood has stained.

Our hero will come and will start to untaint.

A danger lurks near we are unaware.

It shall show itself soon, its to be paired.

In wings in darkness and eyes of flame.

Until hero kills the beast is untamed.

I sighed in annoyance making my way out of the inn. I knew the stables were near, and in such a quiet town such as Windswatcher I could hear the horses from far away and the clink of armor as the guards walked.

my wolf tail swayed as I gracefully walked to the hired carriage, the guards seemed to be on high alert for some reason. I wouldn't really care but tonight it seemed there was double the guards, I shrugged off my suspicions and smiled at the one steering the horses.

"Why hello my lady, would you like to hire my services?" The man looked down on me. He was a Gird, native of Ozark.

"Actually yes, I would like a ride to the boarder. I'll pay five gold for your services." the Gird man thought about it before shrugging.

"All the way there and all the way back? My lady I have horses to feed, maybe twelve gold would be more or less better."

I gazed at him, feeling the lesser gold coin in my pocket. I smiled at him, pretending to think of his offer.

"I understand, my five gold offer was a bit inconsiderate on my part. How about ten gold coins instead? Twelve would be an extra two for your horse feed while you would pocket a ten, but I heard there is a free stable up near there, you could feed your horses and still pocket the ten gold." I kept my determined gaze fixed on him and he stroked his beard before nodding.

"Deal, hop in the back when your ready to head off." I nodded giving him my only ten gold I had and getting up.

"Halt! Stop!" I froze in mid step, turning to face the guard running towards me. I didn't know whether to feel afraid or calm, as he approached with his weapon drawn.

"There a problem my lord?" I asked calmly, he raised his sword to my face.

"Get down you traitor!" He hissed, my eyebrow rose but I slowly got off and raised my hands.

"I think your making a mistake..." I started but the guard payed no attention and hit me with his shield.

"Justice!" was all I heard as I felt my conscious starting to drift away.