One’S Destiny, Another's Curse.

By Christfer Ronald Lucko

Some heroes are taught, while others are born. When a prince leaves home to learn to become a better person for his people, he not only learns many new lessons but he also makes a lot of good friends along the way. Unknowingly to him and others, he rescues some children from an evil necromancer. From that day his life has never been the same.

Will he ever see his home again, or will his life as Prince Jacob Scottie end here?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jul 17, 2015
• ISBN: 9781503561045

Christfer Ronald Lucko

Christfer Ronald Lucko is a new upcoming author. He is like any middle class person with a dream. Born October 14, 1976 in Waco, Texas to Minnie Merwin and Vernon Holder Jr. After getting his Associates of Arts in Computer Drafting, he realized he had a good imagination and decided to put it to use. Having one book Ones Destiny, Anothers Curse published in 2015, he chose to be more than a one hitter quitter. He lives in Texas with his wife Sandi Lucko, whom is overly supportive of his dreams and two wonderful boys, Brazon and Ethyn Lucko. Along with his angel in heaven, Kaysiee Lucko.

Book preview

The World of

Angenehm Stella

Book 1: One’s Destiny, Another’s Curse.

Christfer Ronald Lucko

Copyright © 2015 by Christfer Ronald Lucko.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Rev. date: 07/17/2015

Xlibris

1-888-795-4274

www.Xlibris.com

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Contents

Chapter I: Leaving Home

Chapter II: Who is Truly Evil?

Chapter III: You Shot Me

Chapter IV: Luck; City of Opportunity.

Chapter V: Heroes Are Called!

Chapter VI: Escorting Prince Alfried.

Chapter VII: Into the Haunted Pyramid.

Chapter VIII: There Goes Taran

Chapter IX: Dead End or Not

Chapter X: Interrogation Time

Chapter XI: Good Night Sparky?

Chapter XII: Dread to the Dread Guards.

Chapter XIII: Here’s Nathan.

Chapter XIV: Do We Really Have To Go Back In?

Chapter XV: Lonely Star.

Chapter XVI: The Truth Will Set You Free

Chapter XVII: She’s healed?

Chapter XVIII: A Hero’s Feast

Chapter XIX: One’s Destiny, Another’s Curse

In loving memory of my precious little angel, Kaysiee La’Delories Lucko. Born October 22, 2013 in Hobbs New Mexico and went to see the Lord on January 10, 2014. Love and miss you bunches.

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The World of Angenehm

Stella

One’s Destiny,

Another’s Curse.

Chapter I

Leaving Home

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Maskan 43rd, 1100 after the Great War

Storm clouds rolls across the barren lands of the ever frozen, ever deathly terrain of Frostland. Inside the fortified walls of Cetch, sitting in the ballroom on the Ice Throne enjoying the celebration of his only sons be coming of age, to step up and to assist his father in running the kingdom. King Jason Scottie along with his guests enjoys the band. A day the king has been waiting for, for so long he has worried that he would never have a son too pass his legacy too. For many years, he tried and only had daughters of which he loves nonetheless, but Cetch has always had a King ruling Frostland, not a queen. King Jason Scottie did not want to be the one to change tradition. Finally, a month before his sixty-third name day, his new wife gave birth to his last child, his son.

This day would be more enjoyable if not for the storm outside. The day started out bright and cool, not as cold as normal. The so-called summer of Frostland was not its usual summer type weather. This is the first rain Frostland has had in months, usually Frostland gets a foot of snowfall or big chucks of ice comes crashing down. However, unlike any other day, smiling to himself, this is a special day. A day of celebration, his only son, the future King of Cetch is becoming a man. His last day to play as a child, oh, the years has past so fast, but tomorrow he is supposed to step up to responsibility. Frowning, he looks around, as always he is late, on his name day, he and his troublesome friend and protector is not here. The party has been in process for hours now and not a single son. The bad part is that the servants have not seen either of them for some time now.

Philip, where is he? demands the King angrily. In all that is good, where is my son? He knew when the party was supposed to start. He knew he had to come. He knows how important it is to me. He and your bloody son, they are always together. You figure by now that that son of yours would have learned to be more responsible. GO NOW!! as the King finished speaking, an elderly man around sixty plus years in a purple robe trimmed with golden sleeves cups and a gold embodied strip around his neck, jumped to his feet to run out.

Bloody bullheaded fools, when my son gets here I’ll give him a stompin like never before. He proclaims to himself. About a click of a raven cowl and about the time the band strikes up its sixth tune, Philip runs back into the hall, soaked to the bone.

My King, I haven’t found neither of them yet, but I do possibility have some disturbing information. You’re Highness; I’ve checked both of their rooms and noticed that they have not been in their rooms for some time. I did find that some of their items were missing, as if they have left in a hurry, but no signs of foul play involved. The items missing are their riding gear, some clothing, and other needed supplies for traveling. Stopping to catch his breath, he sees anger flashing in the Kings eyes, he quickly continues. Then I went to the stables to see if their horses were missing too. My King, both horses are gone and the groom tied up in one of the stables. Pinned to his shirt was this note. Finishing, he pulls out a piece of parchment and handed it to the king. Grabbing the parchment, King Jason Scottie reads:

Lord Father, sorry for not coming to my own celebration, but I had to leave quickly. Lord Father please do not worry, I am in no danger at all. Lord Father, I am more than old enough to go off on my own and I need to see more of the world alone. To see what is beyond our Kingdom without all the attention. Lord Father, I believe that for me to become a loyal and worthy King, I must learn more, more of how and what my people need, and how they live. I won’t learn this inside the castle walls. Please forgive me and do not worry, I will be back, but not until I feel ready. Please tell Princess Colleen, Princess Jassica, Princess Delora, and my good friend and mentor Sir Brazon, I said farewell and that I love them all and not to worry, I will be back.

Your Son

Prince Jacob Scottie

This is outrageous! The King Declares. I will have his hide mounted to my walls, go-find him and bring him back. Your son,-what about your son, is he out getting drunk again or with a tavern maid? Maybe he’s out saving little kids from burning houses!

No your Highness, he responds humbly. He left too; the stable boy said he left a few clicks after Prince Jacob left. He told the stable boy that he would catch the Prince and bring him back. They left around midafternoon, about six clicks to a raven cowls before moon rise.

This is outrageous! screamed the king loudly. Noticing the eyes of the guest looking at him, he waves them on to continue as he moderated his voice. You go and bring them back, I don’t care how you do it, just do it. Take five of my best trackers and ten of my best sword masters and bring them back here. Philip,-I don’t care how you do it, but bring them back by all means, even if you must strap them to an ox, you best bring them back–Philip, please be careful my friend. Reaching out, he grabs his long time friend’s hand.

Yes my king, I will have them back before the wolf howls at the next moon. He states calmly.

GO NOW! demands the King while slumping into his throne, his shoulders slumping, the night just gotten worst. Now he must inform the guests that the man of honor will not be showing up to night.

Less than three clicks of the crow’s cowl, Philip was heading out the eastern gates of the city with fifteen of the Kings best men. Philip wearing his spiked full plate, which has not been don in many years, with his great sword of the wolf and two short swords strapped to each hip, riding a ten-year-old reddish-gray quarter horse. Following is ten blade masters of different races, rearing a variety of armor with a wolf head on their chest, each one caring a wide assortment of weapons. Leading the bunch is five rangers, followed by two wagons full of supplies pulled by four huge bison is run by six servants.

It has been three days of hard travel since Prince Jacob Scottie has left home. Feeling it would be unsafe to stop, not sure, if his Lord Father has sent his men to retrieve him, not wanting to risk relaxing and waking up surrounded by his Lord Fathers guards. The only reason the guards would be there is to return him to his home. He could not fully let his guard down, not only for being chased, but also because of the harsh environment of the Frostland. His homeland is not a kind place to anybody. Worrying about all the threats he must compete with, ranging from the normal snowstorms to blizzards, along with the risk of frostbite and hypothermia. Also must watch for crevasse and quick slush, but worse than that is the acid slush and blood snow.

Fallen asleep in the saddle, his body giving into fatigue, Prince Scottie looks for a place to set up camp. Picking a small clearing in a patch of pine, he clears a spot to light a fire. He pulls out a bundle of wood and a small pack of coals from the back of the packhorse. Striking flint and steel together a couple of times, the dry wood ignites with the help of a little oil. After striking the fire, he sits a pot onto the fire, then he throws two handful of snow into the pot followed by a couple of mustard seeds, a pinch of salt, two slices of smoked beef. Steering, he then adds three chopped carrots, an onion, three dates and four small mushrooms.

While letting the broth simmer on the fire, he walks over to the Prwzewalski mule to remove all his provision, laying it by the fire, and then he hobbles the mule. Finishing with the mule, he then unsaddles and hobbles his Roan quarter horse mare. Before heading back to the fire and his broth, he lays a block of hay and a small bucket of provender for both animals. Sitting by the fire, he finally starts to relax a little; he allows his mind to wonder. What is he doing out here? Why did he really leave home, his people, and his loved ones? Was it to become a wiser man or was it to become a better at the art of arcane? Was he really doing all this for his people, to be of more help in the future or was he being selfish, thinking only of himself? On the other hand, was he running from the responsibility of being King of a whole nation, of not fulfilling his dad’s expectation of him? Scared of not being able to do what is required of him or of letting his people down. The road he chose is not going to be easy; it will be lonely and unfair.

Why didn’t I bring Brazon along or maybe my sis, Princess Delora? Because Princess Delora is too unpredictable due to her being a half-dragon, a bastard child, and Brazon is an understanding type of person, but too controlling. Ah I worry too much. He says aloud, I am more than old enough, and able to defend for myself, without anybody’s help. After stretching his limbs and his back, as he begins to check the broth, a loud crash comes from his left. Turning to see the source of the noise, Prince Jacob spots two primitive looking humanoids with grayish looking skin, with course hair running around a procaine face with prominent lower canines resembling that of boars tucks protruding from their mouths. Their reddish eyes shine with an evil glow as the fire reflects of them.

Coming in hard with his great axe raised high above his head. The first orc sizes up his prey, aiming to cleave him in half. Yet being known for not being the smartest creatures alive, the orc charges straight over Prince Jacobs gear, catching his foot in the stirrup of the Princes saddle, tripping it past Jacob, straight into the fire, head first. Out the other side he goes, the broth pot stuck on his head. Jumping around, it tries to distinguish the fire. The second orc, seeing that his kinsmen is temporarily preoccupied, moves in slowly with its great axe held low, judging his preys weakness, waiting for the help he knows is coming.

Not sure of what to do, Prince Jacob draws his gem encrusted silver dagger from its sheath and begins to slowly circle the fire, keeping the fire between him and this large creature, using it as a shield. Looking around, he tries to judge an appropriate escape route, when he catches a glimpse of movement from the corner of his left eye. Turning to see what caught his attention, Jacob dives at the last moment receiving a nick on his shoulder as an axe passes by his head. Due to his carelessness, he never saw the third orc sneaking in from the other direction. Starting to worry, Prince Jacob second-guesses his decision for leaving alone and not needing anyone else. With two orcs closing in on him and the third one still smoldering from the fire approaches from behind him. Now coming from three directions, the orcs raises their axes with the look of pure satisfaction on their faces as they think about this kill and their next hot meal, they slowly move in.

Backing closer to the fire with a worried look on his face, Prince Jacob watches as the one on his left approaches a little quicker. While bringing up his dagger, he waits for the blow he knew was to come, when a loud noise catches his attention, along with the orcs. At the sound of thundering hooves, the orcs turns to see an iron clad warrior riding a dapple grey Boulonnais stallion, heading straight in his direction wielding a great axe with a wolfs head on the blade. Coming in hard and fast, the rider rides past the orc while swinging the axe in a low arc. He catches it in under its left arm, embedding into the orcs rib. Following through with the swing, he uses the momentum of the mount and the strength, he lifts the orc from the ground to toss him like a tinder twig about seven feet away. In the same movement, the rider jumps from his mount, falling into a roll landing hard on his back, he follows through coming back up to his feet with his axe posed for another attack.

At the sound of movement behind him, he turns lifting his great axe in a quick parry, blocking a wicked cut, but before he could counter attack, he sees movement angle in under his free left arm. Suddenly the orc jerks and groans as a gem encrusted silver dagger is planted deeply into the orcs neck.

Turning to see the last orc still smoking from the fire, it falls back to scramble away. Back to the protective woods he runs, not interested in having anything else to do with the human. Taking two powerful steps, the warrior raises his axe above his head with all his might, he hurls the great axe. Catching the fleeing orc in the back of his head, he causes it to skid to the ground on its ugly face.

Walking over to the fallen orc to retrieve his dagger, Jacob looks over his shoulder to see his longtime friend Brazon, removing his helmet and leaning down to remove his axe from the back of the last orcs head. Man I thought I was a goner. Jacob declares. I was about to become orc food. You showed up at the right time, why-how did u find me?

Prince Scottie, Brazon responds severest. You think I would let you go on your own. I’ve promised your dad, the mighty King Scottie, that I would protect you with my life. What exactly were you thinking my Prince, of leaving home like that? We need to pack your stuff, saddle Clara and get you back home before your dad-the King-sends out his whole army to get you. He will kill us both…

I’m not going back, Brazon! he interrupts angrily. I am not going home until I feel I am ready and do not call me Prince Scottie, just Jacob. No one must know who I am and who my father is.

But Prince Scottie, I will be killed by your Lord Father, not mentioning what my father, Sir Philip, will do to me, if I do not get you back quickly. We’ve been gone for three days already and I know your Lord Father is in an uproar, possibly worried sick about you. How smart is this, my Prince,-your Lord Father is probably losing sleep because of this, now let’s go. Turning, he starts to pack up Jacobs stuff.

I said NO! repeated Jacob, grabbing Brazon’s arm and pulling him around, looking straight into his eyes. Not until I decide I am ready to go home. Brazon I am in charge here and you will do as I say or you can run home with your tail tucked, back home to mine and your fathers. I will go on, with –or-without you-my friend. An again, DO-NOT-CALL-ME-PRINCE-SCOTTIE, ALL RIGHT.

Alright-alright-you win. He holds up his hands in surrender. But let’s at least move from here before other creature’s shows up to eat these or worst more of them. Pointing over to a slain orc.

Good idea, saddle my horse while I repack the mule. Turning Jacob begins packing up his supplies and smothering the fire, while Brazon re-saddles the mare. About twenty minutes later, all is packed and ready, Brazon and Jacob begins heading in search of another campsite.

Ravor 56th, 1100 A.G.W. Just after sunset.

How’s the shoulder doing? Jacob asks as he looks over his left shoulder.

It’ll be okay, just a scratch. Brazon answers untruthfully, favoring his left shoulder.

Just a scratch, Jacob sarcastically responds. That is a mighty big scratch, man you bleed worst then a bull being slaughtered for a Liebe Follia. Brazon-you’re not growing soft on me are you. That nasty hobgoblin did a number on you. Maybe next time you need to try more parrying and less dancing, you would not be scratched so badly.

Looks who talkin he answered angrily, maybe-just maybe- if you learn how to use those weapons of yours or just possible learn some better spells-just maybe I won’t have to fight as hard or as much to protect you. Man-sometime I think you would be a better cook then an adventurer. Brazon laughs.

Ka-boom, coming from Prince Jacobs’s direction, a flash of light followed by a loud whistle as a bolt of energy catches Brazon in the middle of his chest, knocking him off the back of his horse, to land hard on his back in a foot of snow. While reopening his wounded shoulder in the process. Why…why you do that for? Brazon whines.

Man-Brazon, I am so sorry he sarcastically responds, Did that hurt? My cooking spell fired off on its own. But we must say though, that spell was a good one, eh? turning his horse towards Brazon, he walks his mount to where Brazon had landed. Dismounting, he walks over to Brazon to check his shoulder. Now hush while I check your shoulder.

That was a good one, Brazon says while sitting up to allow Jacob to check his shoulder. Maybe next time you could use it on a hob or on an orc… feeling more pressure than needed to his shoulder for the remark he made, he finishes. Emmm, what are you trying to do, kill me?

Hush, Jacob retorts, man, you cry worst then my eldest sister’s baby.

Shh, quiet, Brazon, warns when movement catches his attention. Hey Jacob,-there’s a fire over there. He whispers while pointing to a small campfire about seventy yards away. It was not there a moment ago,-was it?

I do not know did you not see it? Jacob responds just as quietly.

No, - man in all that is good, I really do hope we won’t have to fight anymore today. That last battle with the hob’s and orcs took a lot out of me. I am very tired of fighting for one day.

Maybe we could sneak over to see who or what it is.

Yeah-sure, they really have no clue we are here. He responds sarcastically. Especially after all the yelling we did and the loud crackling sound of your spell, I bet everyone in the Nine Hells knows we are here."

Maybe it’s nothing! he responds doubtfully

Nothing! Nothing but someone scared witless, I would be after what you did.

Okay hush, let me think, okay, you stay behind and wait. Not too long though or too far behind, I will go ahead and see who it is.

Good idea, I’ll head that way and you go that way, straight to the fire and we will have them surrounded.

Just be cool! Jacob warns.

Like this weather?

Cool, not cold you ox-brain. Slowly Jacob heads off towards the fire, trying his best not to reach for his gem-encrusted dagger or to grab his crossbow. Instead, he begins to whisper the beginning of a protective spell while reaching into his component pouch. Finally making it to the fire, he sees there is no one there. Looking around, he still sees no one. Confused, he walks closer to the fire, noticing a skinned rabbit on a spec over the fire cooking. About two feet from the fire, a spot has been cleared of snow and covered with pine needles. An unrolled bedroll lies on top along with some gear. Cautiously Jacob heads around the fire to the gear when he hears a voice off to his right. It’s not nice to intrude on another person’s camp without being invited.

Turning slowly to his right, up against a tree sits a solid white female canine humanoid with long snow-white hair wearing boiled bark brown leather armor with studs dotting it. Noticing no weapons of threat, other than her claws and teeth, Jacob relaxes a little until-crash.

A were-wolf, run you fool. Brazon yells at Jacob while running all out through the camp with his great axe raised rushing the female. Reaching her, he chops down. With a loud thump, he stops as his great axe is trapped in the tree with no sign of the female.

I am not a were-wolf! replies a feminist growl from the other side of the tree, while Brazon is desperately trying to remove his great axe from the hard oak tree. Running over to Brazon, Jacob grabs Brazon arms.

She’s not a were-wolf you oaf, chill out man, what are you doing! Jacob nervously says while he desperately tries to calm Brazon.

Confusingly Brazon looks at Jacob, loosening his grip on his axe but she looks like one, what is she then?

Forgive my big dull witted friend. Jacob says to the female he did not inherent his father’s wisdom I see. I think that last encounter rattled something loose up there. Jacob finishes while tapping Brazon on his helmet, to Brazon, she is a lupin, and they are protectors of the woods. They usually run in packs and they live to hunt were beasts, at least most do. Turning back to the Lupin with a questionable look on his face.

That is true. She answers his unasked question, but I run alone this night. This night I am trying to enjoy the snow and my meal. Turning, she slowly walks to the fire, stopping at the pine needles she kneels to scrap away some of the needles to reveal a leather bag, a backpack and a variety of different types of weapons. After retrieving her items, she heads over to the fire to check the rabbit. Every moment being watchful of the two humans.

As I was saying, it is rude to invite yourself to another person’s fire. Maybe if you would have called out before coming up, especially after blowing your big friend here off of his horse. Turning, she looks over at them. Not too smart rushing into another fight while still injured.

Standing against the oak, while looking at the ground shamefully, Brazon responds unsurely. I was only trying to protect my little friend. Anyways, the injury isn’t that bad.

Isn’t that bad, Jacob, responds angrily, you have been favoring that shoulder all afternoon. Forgive us for our rudeness…?

Corrann Turff, she answers, but you can call me Corrann.

Corrann, may we join you at your fire? It is a cold night and having someone else to talk to, someone with intelligence, would really be nice. Jacob is asking while Brazon is still trying to pull his axe free.

Yes you may…?

Jacob, Jacob Scottie and the big oaf is Brazon Quavoe.

Yes you can join, but you must cook your own rabbit. She pleasantly responds.

But…we…have…no…rabbit…oaf! Brazon answers as his axe came loose, causing more pain to shot to his shoulder.

You, pointing to Jacob, second limb from the ground on the third tree from Brazon, she points to a young oak. And you, pointing to Brazon, come here and let me look at your shoulder, do not argue, come and remove your full plate.

Walking over to the tree Corrann pointed at, Jacob looks to find a piece of string tied to the bottom limb going down into the snow. How many? he asks, looking over to see Brazon unhooking leather straps, removing his full plate pierce by pierce. While Corrann is pulling small leather bag out of her backpack.

However many it will take to fill you two up. I have all I needed for tonight. But tomorrow you must replace what you used. She says while getting up to help Brazon get out of his armor. Looking at his shoulder, she begins to shake her head. This is not good, no good at all. A few more days and this shoulder would have been useless. Sit down and stay still, I know this won’t hurt a big tuff guy like you. Sitting beside Brazon, she begins to apply salve to the wound, holding back her shy as Brazon wenches at her touch. She stitches his wounds and applies a good bandage to protect the wound. Look at all these scares, what is this, burn marks? man you have seen better days."

It is really nothing. Brazon responds shyly while shivering from the cold.

Sitting by the fire, Jacob finishes skinning two of the four rabbits he grabbed, beginning on his third one. So Corrann, where are you from? Jacob asks.

I am from up in the Lanfear Mountains, from the clan of Turff. My friends and family is in the area tracking a band of were-polar bears. Been tracking them for some time, well for about three weeks now. They have been causing a lot of trouble around here. Tearing up thorps, villages, and small farms, for miles around. I chose to stay here and take a break. And you?

We are from Cetch, but I became tired of the place and left. Jacob lied, trying to hide the fact that he is the Prince. I chose to see the world and my friend Brazon came tagging along. Heard many wonderful stories of mighty adventures and famous places to go too. I really wanted to go and see them.

Well you are free to enjoy the fire. She tells them after he finished talking, reading more into what he said. He has a secret. She thinks to herself, yet aloud saying, You can stay here a couple days, might be best for Brazon to stay inactive for that long, at least until he heels up.

Well,-um,-we cannot, we really must be going in the morning, but I do appreciate the rabbits and the fire. Jacob responds kindly.

Very well. She says somewhat disapprovingly but you may want to hobble your animals for the night. She suggest while finishing patching Brazon. A good meal and a good night sleep will help you. Don’t worry about keeping watch tonight, all is safe around here. After looking at them for a moment, she gets up, heads over to her supplies, unrolls her bedroll, and lies down for the night.

About an hour after Jacob hobbles the animal, him and Brazon is full and fast asleep. The next morning they awake to the aroma of hot rabbit porridge. Sitting up, Brazon notices Corrann bedroll laying rolled up and she is not around the fire. Looking around, he sees her at the edge of the trees with a war hammer in one hand and a light mace in the other going through several offensive and defensive moves. Stepping left, right, a small hop, to Brazon; it all looked like a perfect dance. About thirty minutes later, Corrann finishes up with her exercise for the day; she heads to the camp to join the two men at the fire.

You are really good. Brazon remarks when Corrann sits down, handing her a bowl of porridge, where did you learn all that?

Living out here in the wild like we do, I had to learn to protect myself while hunting were-beasts. She responds politely.

Corrann, thanks for the porridge, Jacob says very politely, so where do you go from here, or what do you have planned to do?

Not sure yet? she answered while eating a spoon full of porridge. A part of me must get back to the pack. But a part of me would like to meet new folks but I would probably get the same reception I did receive last night. Looking over at Brazon innocently.

I am really sorry about last night. Brazon says quietly while looking down at the ground. Thanks for the help with my shoulders and the food.

You’re welcome, she tells him while leaning over and rubbing Brazon’s head. Maybe next time you will wait and think before jumping to conclusions and this will not happen again.

I will. He cheerfully responds.

Would you like to come with us? Jacob asks with a lot of enthusiasm. I mean, we could really help each other. We could teach other folks about your race and you can see and meet more people. Also you and Brazon can work on your arts together."

I don’t know…I have never really been away from my home.

Neither have we Corrann, Brazon responds, This could really be a learning experience for us both.

I really would love to meet others, why not? If I really don’t like what I am doing, I could always return home.

So you are coming? Brazon cheerfully says, You could ride with me if you would like.

No need, but thanks anyhow. Rising, she lets out a loud howl, startling the two guys. About ten minutes later, a black and white pinto mare comes prancing out of the woods. Walking over, she begins talking to the horse. She’s ready to go.

Beautiful horse, Jacob declares while walking over to look at the animal. Nice muscle tone around her withers, shoulders and croup. Smooth coat, a piebald, and her mane are healthy and clean. Lays smooth on her crest and her poll.

Jacob, you know about horses? Corrann asks surprisingly.

Why yes, he proudly says, I pride myself on knowing about these marvelous animals. They are smart, talented and they are used for everything. There is nothing they cannot do… on and on he goes, telling her about the things he has learned about the horses he used to train back home.

While Jacob went on into details about all he knew about horses and all the horses, he has worked with, from Clydesdale on the farm to the quarter horse he rode now. Brazon is saddling the horses and packing up camp. About an hour later, the three are off riding from the camp, Jacob steadily talking to Corrann like he has known her his whole life while Brazon kept an eye out for trouble.

Mur 18th, 1100 A.G.W. One Hour before Sunset.

A strong breeze blows across the Fuchtbar Wesser on this cold winter night, as the small ship is tossed back and forth, it leaves the Elvin land Tigreen. On the deck of the Snow Queen, the crew bushel along, working the sweeps and tending the sails. As the waves slap the hull, the wind tosses the young elf’s hair as he watches his home grow farther and farther out of sight. All the memories begin flooding back in at him all at once. Memories of running in the fields of tulips with his sisters, memories of hunting deer with his father and brothers. Memories of long nights watching his mother skin and tan the hide for the market or even cooking over an open flame. Remembering times, so long ago, when he and his family would sit around the tree listening to the forgotten songs of the willow or watching the Trent and dryads dance the dance of life. Many memories a long time gone.

Already several decades has passed since that terrible night and now several weeks since leaving his woodland for open water. Yet still no sight of his next destination, he wonders how much longer by boat must he go. Knowing he still has months of hard travel across un merciful country to cross before reaching his chosen course, the city of Luck. Heading there to become stronger and wiser, not knowing what life and what destiny has planned for him, yet regretting what lies behind him.

Angry with himself for not being stronger, for not having true courage to fight off the threat. Living his life on regrets, knowing true hatred in his heart, fueled by the thought of revenge, revenge for the murder of his queen, of his family, and his friends. Remembering that night, that horrible night, the night of death. The night the dead arose and slathered his village, his people. The night the nightmares of undead eating and mutilating the whole village.

Why, he cries in Elvin, "why my home, my family, my friends, why? I promise to avenge you mom, dad. To avenge you all.

About bloody time, remarked Brazon, whoever came up with building a bridge like that, needs to be ran through. That bridge is unnatural, so long and high. I promise you this, one day that bridge will come tumbling down, mark my words, it will.

What’s a matter? Jacob asks in a sarcastic sympathetic tone. Is the mighty warrior afraid of heights!

I am not afraid of heights! he growls back.

Oh, forgive me,-all mighty knight. Chuckled Jacob, It’s not the heights you are afraid of, but the magic used."

I-am-not-scared of-magic! he responds angrily, Just don’t trust it, magic is very dangerous.

Magic is the best weapon around. Jacob responds dreamily. I am capable of doing of doing more with magic then what you can do with all your weapons. With magic, I can protect myself better than your full plate can protect you.

I can’t tell, magic didn’t help you the night the orcs attacked you. My weapons kept you out of the orcs pot. He finishes with a fit of laughter.

Well,-um-I was still new at the art. Jacob protests defensively, In time, no one will be able to stand against me, you will see. If you do not believe me, ask Corrann. What you say Corrann, your opinion on magic.

It does have its uses. She responds politely, For good and bad. However, I do agree with Brazon, somewhat. Magic is dangerous if misused.

See, I told you. He declares cheerfully, You cannot trust mag…

I never said that you cannot trust it, she interrupts, just that it is dangerous if misused. Just as your axe is dangerous in the wrong hands. Magic, as is your weapons are useful. You trust your weapons to protect you along with your armor. However, you also trust that potion in your belt to heal you when you get hurt by another person’s weapon. That potion was made with magic and without it, you would be down longer then you were. Hopefully I and ole Scottie here can teach you more about magic.

I really don’t know. Brazon responds shyly, I um…oh look, we’re coming to a nice looking city. I wonder where we are at.

He asks, happy for a change of subject. Looking around, happy to be off that bridge that seemed to go on forever. The great Alcore Bridge, named after the Great Nickalish Alcore. The bridge was built two years after the Great War. It stretches twenty-five miles across the Bodenweniger Conal, connecting Frostland to Kalt-terra. It rises a good mile over the canal at the highest point. No pillars hold the bridge up, just mithereal cables and a very powerful levitation spell, along with many stone. After a day of hard riding to get across the bridge before nightfall, Brazon is more than happy and ready for some real relaxation. A warm bed and a really hot meal really sound good right now. he says while taking the lead.

Don’t you mean a hot winch and cold ale,-Brazon? Jacob responds sarcastically, Never known you to pass that up.

There’s nothing wrong with a warm body to hold unto and something cold and wet to warm your bones after a hard day travel, or may I say a hard several months of traveling. Jacob, this is the first place we stopped at since leaving home. We didn’t even stop at that last little village we were at, which was a real nice place. What was the name of it, Ciato, Hiaccia…?

Ghicciato, Corrann answers politely, Ghicciato, which was a nice city to have stopped in to get supplies. Not this village. Why didn’t we stop?"

Well,-because it was too early to stop. Jacob answered carefully, Anyways, was Brazon not in a big hurry to get across the bridge.

Wasn’t in that big of a hurry, Brazon puts in defensively; "we could’ve stayed the afternoon and left the next day. Instead of traveling hard to get here before it got too late.

Well it is done and here we are. Jacob says angrily, Now we are at a place where you can find a warm body to hold and something to warm your stomach. finishing angrily, he heels his mare into a canter to keep from discussing this any longer. He rides in amongst the one-and two-story buildings with thatched roofs, spread out amongst several small plates with one large structure dominating the southern side of the village. Ridding in,