Arkenfall

By Francis Pendlebury

An empress rules her fading empire with no heir to inherit the throne.

An ancient malice lusts for her and fast approaches, with armies potent with demonic menace.

A kings champion is sent with his unique band to aid in the defense against the twisted and foul crafts of necromantic warlocks.

There is an inevitable and inescapable bonding of blood in the midst of a war for an empire.

Unyielding sacrifice, forfeit, and submission to carnal impulse become the unexpected answers necessary to foil their archaic enemys revolting cravings.


Arkenfall is the first book in the Conquest of Arkendore series.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris UK
• Release date: Apr 27, 2018
• ISBN: 9781543489569

Francis Pendlebury

Born in 1967, Francis Pendlebury was raised in the heart of Sherwood Forest, near Mansfield, Nottinghamshire. He now lives with his family in Cheshire, where he enjoys walking his dogs, archery, reading and music. Arkenfall is his first published book.

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Copyright © 2018 by Francis Pendlebury.

ISBN:                  Softcover                        978-1-5434-8955-2

                            eBook                             978-1-5434-8956-9

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 Getty Images are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Rev. date: 04/11/2018

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CONTENTS

Prologue

THE APPROACH

Into Arkendore

Pull And Push

Something In The Air

Revelation

Heavy Horizons

Grim Tidings

Insight &Wisdom

Clash Of Heroes

All Friends At Northgate

Berras Brings It Home

Auspicious Assembly

Crucible Of Malevolence

THE STRIKE

Battle Of Ekringvale

Sea Skirmish At Fofseott

Seed Of Destiny

THE STAND

Walls

Flight & Breakdown

Ecstasy & Exodus

Siege

Nemesis Revealed

Jargren’s Calling

THE FALL

Impact Unit

Wrath Of The Darklord

Parting With Arken

Epilogue

Glossary

For Janiss

PROLOGUE

Suddenly she knew. Feeling as if a veil had been lifted from her sight, only this view was personal, internal and intimate. Standing in the bay of her favourite window, the lady sniffed the fresh, early morning air, listening to the chatter of birdsong in a cluster of birch trees that grew in the garden below. The caw of ravens higher up on the rooftop and the screech of gulls overhead added their own parts to the morning’s discordant noise. All at once this graceful woman, sitting alone in her bedchambers shortly after having awoken, experienced a moment of clarity. She sensed a feeling right through herself that she could neither understand nor ignore, very perplexing for a woman of such great renown. Her highly attractive eyes half closed, as she creased her brow in private contemplation. Taking control of her breathing, the lady spent a moment of introspection. She realised that a sensation was growing more acute, a feeling that had gradually been rising in her consciousness for over a week, lurking just beneath her full waking attention. Growing in its essence and potency with each day. A mildly irritating, distracting, notion that she only now fully became aware of, in the same moment that she also suddenly, undeniably, knew the cause of it. The effect was akin to only becoming conscious of a constant, low noise in the background, just after the same noise ceases. Now that she had become conscious of the feeling, the effect on the proud lady, finely dressed in flowing white morning gowns, was a release of tension. It started with a physical relaxation, deep within her body and with a jolt of surprise the empress felt just as any other woman does in such a moment. Flushed with excitement from head to foot, as her heart missed a beat, before pumping harder and faster in a rushing thrill of invigoration. Next, a very old, almost forgotten, slightly unsettling sensation bristled up her spine from between her wide, appealing hips and it vexed her. How dare! After so long! She stood up and paced across to the other side of the large window-bay, remembering as she did so, that the sensation had always vexed her, due to her wilfulness and usual self-control. Loss of control over herself in any way had been the annoyance of the empress since her childhood. The surge of adolescent hormones changing her body as she had grown into a woman, had been a particularly trying time for her. All whilst attempting to be a perfect young princess, for her father and their people. Like any youngster, she had experienced infatuation, intrigue and distraction during those crucial years. Stretching her arms, she sniffed the air blowing the veils around the window that faced the northern quadrant of her fine city. All at once, a sudden memory, of experiencing a similar thrill of excitement in her youth, caused an involuntary smile to cross her face, pumping her heart harder again for a few beats. This made her face flush red and skin contract, creating goose-bumps all over. Almost like invisible hands, the sensation travelled up her abdomen and ribs, over her breasts and up around her neck. Tightening the skin and erecting her nipples. Suddenly she felt unable to resist these long latent, natural impulses. Though middle-aged, the empress still had an incredibly beautiful and healthy body. This intensely frustrated her. Elspeth was renowned for her ability to control her emotions and took great pride in it. Yet even now, this very mature trait in her was being counterpoised with an undeniable sense of intrigue and girlish excitement.

Summoning her immense will, she attempted to slow her breathing again and let some of the sudden flush of blood leave her cheeks, achieving only limited success. With eyes as bright as a spring-bride’s and a countenance ablaze with consternation, she swept out of her chambers via a concealed alcove shrouded with a shimmering silk curtain. Two of her ladies quickly parted on the far side of a door behind the curtain to let their empress pass. The door led into an adjoining room. Several other ladies were also in this room, making preparations for the empress’ day. Without a word, Elspeth crossed the room to another such alcove.

This one led to a discreet spiral staircase set deep within the thick walls of the Imperial Palace, a fully functioning castle built to house the rulers of the empire. The palace was located centrally within the huge fortress-city of Arken, capital of Arkendore, greatest empire amongst the many lands of men. As Elspeth ascended the stairs, light came from three deep, angled windows. These were set at regular intervals and beautifully adorned with vines, flowers and berries carved into their surrounding stonework. A small landing held a door to the battlements of the palace walls, whilst the stairs continued to spiral up another level within the tower itself. The whole landing area was illuminated brightly by a crystal window above the door, sublimely ornate, in the shape of a pointed arch, giving off a warm, ruby glow. The crystal was imbued with Runecraft and the glow brightened as the empress passed. Rays of flashing auburn, purples, and blue danced around the walls of the upper staircase. They were created by sunlight shining down through a multi-faceted, crystal roof-glass, which also brightened as Elspeth came closer. A smaller landing topped the head of the stairs, with another solid oak, iron-studded door that opened surprisingly easily and silently for its great weight. Then she stepped out onto the battlements of her own private turret and watchtower. The ladies awaiting in her chambers had all avoided her eyes when she had swept past them. For each of them were also conscious of the same feeling, all were flushed in mutual sympathy and experiencing the same feminine stirrings. They stifled giggles, the elder ladies chiding the younger attendants, as they followed her up around the tower stairs and out through the top door. All twelve of them crowding slightly, folding their arms and wrapping themselves in their coloured woollen shawls against the breeze. They followed their beloved empress’ gaze across the rooves of the northern quadrant of the city, over and beyond the five massive towers of Northgate. Her stare settled some distance away, into the far horizon on rising ground, where a small party of men had just become visible on the farthest height of the old Horken road. The empress Elspeth and her chief ladies were highly gifted with long-sight, the ability to see details at greater distances than others. Although over twenty miles of morning air directly separated them from the scene, they were easily able to see the men lifting their arms to shield their eyes against the glare, as they came out from the shade of the mountainous land they had left behind. After a few steps, they all stopped as one, staring and blinking southward into the crimson brightness of the morning sun. Once they were used to the glare, they stared at the gold spires, tall towers and majestic minarets that lay behind the legendary walls of their fabled destination, the city of Arken. For a moment Elspeth felt an overwhelming sensation that the men were looking directly at herself, although her sight was not so fine to discern the faces of the men. Turning to her ladies, her eyes were full of shameless excitement, her posture alert, her nerves obviously thrilled. Though as she spoke, her voice was level and serious, yet without malice. She enquired of the eldest pair of ladies, twins fifteen years her senior, who had been with her since she was aged five;

And how long have you known? Their voices were full of love and they spoke as one;

We first felt him eleven days ago Madame.

Eleven indeed! she replied, almost shocked, her voice displaying more emotion than she had intended, before going on, again with an involuntary emphasis in her voice; "In that case he is very new to us."

Her voice accenting the phrase unconsciously, whilst also rising in tone at her own genuine surprise. "Whoever this man is, he will be known to me." The thought leapt unwarranted into her mind. Elspeth could sense that the twins, her closest confidents, were actually enjoying her unusually affected state.

"We think he must be very strong too Madame. They said, mimicking her, then paused, their eyes met hers as she turned away from the view to face them directly. They stayed like this for a second or two, until she gave a slight nod, allowing them to elucidate. His musk came only at night at first, drawn down from the highlands on cold air, as the sun set." They paused once more as a flock of large ducks came quacking and squabbling over the turret from the south, flanked by two similar squadrons of the noisy wildfowl. Each equally as determined to disturb the mornings peace as they were to make it to their feeding grounds, situated in the strip of coastal swamplands northwest of the city. These marshes stretched intermittently for miles along the sandy shoreline, right up to the foothills of the dark, imposing mountains that marked the border with Horkendore, the northern realm. Occasionally referred to by scholars as The Original Empire, after hundreds of years of rivalry and all-out war, Horkendore stood shoulder-to-shoulder as a willing vassal-state to its more affluent southern neighbour. The great city of Arken stood on the confluence of three major rivers, that geographically became a complex estuary, with numerous channels and tributaries carved through the surrounding hillsides. The whole area was a natural fortress and an obvious site for an early settlement to the first truly civilised pioneers, that came south from the older realm looking for good grazing land for their cattle and horses and good access to the sea for fishing, hunting and trading. The settlement quickly became several small towns, all situated around the estuary. Once the seven boroughs joined together to maximise their potential and built the harbour, they became the walled city named Arken by its first king and quickly grew and developed in its sphere of influence. The ancient fortress had become the hinge-pin and capital of the whole empire over twelve centuries before Elspeth was born. It was perfectly located for trade, self-sufficiency and defence. The empire’s wildfowl though, had been migrating to feed here for many centuries longer, and after allowing the noise of the ducks to fade, the twins’ smooth, fluting voice continued;

As his party has drawn nearer and nearer, ever more women have become broody. Those that were already in their brooding cycle have quickly become pregnant and those that were already long pregnant have all suddenly given birth. Many, several weeks early. They paused to catch up with their own racing thoughts. The twins always thought and spoke with a single mind and voice. After a moment they continued, There is something else too Madame, something we have never felt. The empress merely raised an eyebrow in curiosity, holding onto herself a little better.

His musk is so strong it also affects the animals of the city.

Oh? There was more than a hint of curiosity in Elspeth’s voice, which once again rose in pitch more than she would have wished.

Yes Madame, the mares in particular it seems.

How so?

In much the same way as he affects the women of the city. Elspeth could hardly help being affected by these words although outwardly she attempted to disguise her excitement. The twins though well aware, were far too sensitive to their empress to exchange a glance, something that they did very rarely. They felt the need so strongly though, that after a moment, that need was sated without words or motion. Elspeth could not help feeling their internal exchange herself, so strong was the bond between the three of them. All at once she realised, they were teasing her! They were enjoying this moment of revelation, indeed they had been anticipating it. Now here she stood, her most basic, naked emotions so rarely revealed, ablaze for her whole company of chamber-maidens to behold! The twins were silently ecstatic with the joy of seeing their beloved Elspeth as raw as a child after so long.

Though they would never be indiscreet about the empress’ feelings in public, here amongst this most loyal and single-minded sisterhood they were all but revelling in their knowledge of her fate and Elspeth knew it and it was beginning to irk her, as her inability to constrain her excitement frustrated her somewhat. Becoming exasperated she leant forward slightly, her tone was low as she hissed her words at them impatiently but quietly, with softness and love;

My familiars, how long you have protected and shielded me? Yet since I grew into womanhood and became empress, I have been accustomed to feeling more as though it were I, protecting you from the perils of our world, she paused for effect before continuing. however now you tell me, that for over a week, you have been aware of this potent man’s approach! Drawing them both to one side, she turned to face them. Speaking more openly but still with a timbre of raw emotion in her voice, the empress realised the truth as she said it.

You have clouded him from me, or rather, my mind from him, from his approach and his infectious musk. Her voice softened more as she mused; It is curious but now that I have knowledge of him, I can say that I felt him all the time too, though, as in a dream. So yes, he must be very strong. She looked back into the distance where they could see the men were still stood, as though talking of the landscape that lay before them. She decided to change tack, her curiosity was too strong, Yet you say we know nothing of him?

Nothing, Madame. Elaine and Erica, both white witches, twin familiars, and closest confidants to Empress Elspeth of Arken, as always, spoke as one. "However, we can sense that he is here to help in our great cause and time of dark adversity, he and his party have travelled many days to be with us. They are all of a raw breed, but he most of all. Their Fortisar stands alone. We feel there may be very old blood in his veins…" They left the thought hanging in the air as bait. Elspeth however, was now beginning to get a grip of herself and the bigger picture was becoming apparent to her mind. She held her curiosity for details in check for the time being, choosing instead to deal directly with her beloved familiars. Their loyalty was far beyond doubt or question, though they still possessed the power to deceive her, if only temporarily. Their love for her person and her health were the only reasons for all their mild deceptions.

I am touched by your concern for my well being, it seems our call for help in our great cause, has reached the farthest reaches of our empire and delivered us fresh hope. He will however, certainly cause a stir this day upon his arrival, if his approach alone is anything to weigh him by! Once again her voice rose a pitch beyond her control, revealing a glimpse of her turbulent hidden, physical emotions, taunting her with their impudence.

Oh yes Madame, we think he already has! The twins smirked in unison.

THE APPROACH

INTO ARKENDORE

The view was simply awe-inspiring. After a brief stop in a tiny fishing hamlet, the party from the north had risen early along with the fishermen, left the little cove behind and covered the final miles of mountainous land in the twilight, walking south as the sky slowly lost its blackness, during the last hour before dawn. The hamlet nestled in a steep-sided cove, set into high cliffs that fell into the ocean from the western extremity of the Darhayev mountain range. A long chain of peaks that bisected the whole continent of Widenpeth from east to west. These mountains were the border between the twin realms of Horkendore and Arkendore, both sharing rulers from the same line for over a millennia. Whilst descending the Pass of Brandor, the only access across the western region of the mountains, the six men stepped out from the shadows cloaking the steep steps they were negotiating, out onto a ledge and into the light of a bright and clear morning, to enjoy their first look at the lands south of the mountains. As the sun rose above the mist on the lowlands in the foreground, sunbeams radiated through the distant towers and minarets visible above the great walls of Arken. None of these men had ever seen the city before. Its name and legend though, they had heard since their childhood. Now as they gazed, it seemed to float before their eyes on a blanket of cloud. An illusion created by the mist covering the landscape beneath them. Warmed and illuminated by a welcoming sun, the city was vibrant with colour, taunting with promise and sparkling with enchantment. They all felt the energy drawing them on, their long journey now almost at its end. Their next chapter unwritten, they stood as one, as if on a ledge contemplating leaping into a void. After a few moments, one of them broke the spell. Dropping the hand he had been using to shield his eyes from the glare, Varn turned his back to the sun in order to see the others properly. He was economical with his words and his tone was completely matter-of-fact.

We should be at their Northgate by this afternoon. He started to turn back when the man standing closest to him, his lifelong friend Ischald, exclaimed in sheer exasperation;

Is that all you have to say? After bringing us so far? He looked around at the rest of their companions, seeking support, as they all listened to his words. Ischald carried on speaking before he could be answered. "None of us may journey home from here, you know that Varn. Yet here we stand before the start of our greatest adventure and you have nothing more to say to us? We here have little time left alone to contemplate our fate. Soon enough we will be surrounded and enclosed by those bloody great walls and many new people too.

After that we shall be busy with the defence of this fine realm. Let us at least take stock and draw breath before we descend down onto the plain and approach the city." Feeling he may be laying the melodrama on a little thickly, Ischald knew when to stop talking. His real aim was simply to catch his breath and take in the view a few moments longer, perhaps even grab a bite to eat from his pocket, although his sense of occasion was genuine enough.

Your words are true, aye. Varn looked at him and subsequently the rest of them in turn. Each man met his gaze without hostility. These companions knew each other well. Each was free to follow his own fate, yet each knew their choice had been made years before. When they had decided to remain with Varn and follow his fate, alongside him. The point of Ischald’s outburst as Varn knew, was to focus all of them on this moment. In one sense he was drawing on Varn’s own, hidden excitement, so ingrained was the bond between them. Varn rarely expressed himself fully with words, he didn’t have to. His was a presence that could not be ignored. He was more often than not silent, his emotions held under a tight rein. Still, they seeped from him and affected anyone in his vicinity, such was their intensity and depth.

Let each man speak now, if he wishes to.

Let Ischald speak, he seems to wish to speak for all anyway spoke up Laschald, who stood as tall as Varn, but was of a slighter build, then he nodded and smiled sweetly at his exasperated cousin.

For all? Fear not cousin my wish is merely to take this little time left to contemplate together whilst we still have the privacy to do so, remarked Ischald churlishly.

"Well I for one have had quite enough of your privacy, Ischy my friend and seek a more tender bed-mate from tonight, until we’re actually needed to fight for them. Had more than enough of your bare arse every morn’ and now my only thought is about whoever she is." This came from Dendarif, speaking from beneath his large-brimmed helm. All at once he too smiled sweetly at Ischald. He lifted his left hand and touched the underside of the brim of his helm, a habit he had to show the company he was teasing. Dendarif was no kin to the cousins, his connection was most closely with Varn, who had inspired him and saved his life three times already in battle, as he had at least as many times for all of them. Such was the power that Varn could summon, or focus, through himself.

Whoever who is? And I am not your bed-mate! Retorted Ischald, his voice roughening into a high-pitched growl. The words accelerating as they came out, along with spittle and pieces of the breaded fish he was eating. Wrapped in cotton bundles and saved in his pocket, they were from the previous evenings supper. The others were far enough away to be out of range of Ischald’s culinary bombardment, as they were all used to him, just as they were all used to each other after years of adventures together. Laughing and kicking dust and fish bits back towards their owner, Dendarif ran a few steps and hugging a struggling Ischald with a side-hold declared openly;

Why the lucky lass that will feel my warm embrace and my hot passion tonight! Who else? He roared with laughter in his friends ear, keeping Ischald’s arms pinned to his sides. Dendarif’s enthusiasm rose as he gave voice to his imagination. Maybe your concerned with the needs of your stomach, more than the needs of your balls, my friend, but I am ready for breeding! My body needs a woman! His voice growing louder as he vented his frustrations; A fine and fruity maiden whose body needs mine with equal passion! He swung his friend around as he spoke, shaking him with exaggerated drama. I know there must be many a lass who would be more than happy to become acquainted with a handsome stranger tonight! The company laughed together as Ischald feigned indifference, before simply shrugging his amorous assailant off by twisting and half-wriggling, contorting just enough to keep his balance and posture, as well as his dignity. Another of the company now spoke. As the chuckling died down into the sound of wind, coloured with the cawing of dark ravens in the crags above and the distant sounds of grazing livestock on the slopes below them;

Therefore let the Spirits protect her from your vanity, at least, if she is so unable to resist your charm, Dendarif. Winked Eaborald, third and eldest of the three cousins, Varn and them having been raised in the same hamlet. He was the company’s shamanic warrior, their wizard, performing daily duties of a spiritual nature, as well as having the ability to wage combat with Runecraft, as all sorcerers could. He had also occasionally performed more dangerous plunges into the netherworlds, those hoary regions of an ethereal nature, whence unnamed horrors sometimes came, where only the bravest would plunge themselves, when circumstances had deemed this drastic course of action necessary. He may once have become a fully anointed Warlock of Horken, an offer made to Eaborald following a previous adventure the company had endured, deep in the famously broad and deep forests that covered the isle of Aschorn. A magical place, with forgotten and forlorn dells and hollows to be found in its darkest and most shaded valleys. Where acres of the fabled King’s Oaks, Emperor’s Elms and Giant’s Grey Willow’s of Aschorn grew. Immense, gargantuan trees, the willows resembling a cliff-face along the riverbanks, the oaks and elms dwarfing the rest of the vast forest below, which covered the entire surface of the enchanted isle. Aschorn was the largest island of an archipelago that stretched for hundreds of miles from a peninsular on the north-west coast of Horkendore, deep into the baleful waters of the north Crespijian ocean. The offer had come from the Druids of Aschorn. Eaborald though, had chosen to remain faithful to the solemn oath he had made to follow Varn. An oath that all three of the cousins had made, after they became aware of the intense natural power their childhood friend possessed. Varn had survived a most frightful encounter with a family of highly aggressive mountain trolls before all three of the cousins one afternoon in their youth, after climbing too far into the forbidden troll-vales of Herancur. Being surprised as they had stalked Great Elk, the trolls quickly became enraged and before he could react, Varn was picked up, crushed, mangled, bitten, chewed, smashed into tree trunks, and stomped on by a quartet of the two-ton beasts. No man could possibly have lived. Yet he not only endured, he had become his Other form, his rare and hidden breeding being revealed to them all for the first time. Although there was no outward physical transformation, his strength and ferocity increased ten-fold. He killed two of the male trolls before scattering the rest of their tribe into the highest crags, displaying a rare power and enchanted resilience to harm. All of this had occurred during adolescence and from that moment, Varn became known as a Fortisar. A fate he had no decision in. Fortisar were born, not made. They were a hidden breed, an aberration carried in ancient genes once spread throughout the world of men by great champions and heroes. Almost mythical, legendary, archaic warriors, who were themselves bred from a much older and wilder time in prehistory, before Mankind had become civilised and master of the world. These great champions had been so fine in the skills of war, as to be the most valuable commodity to any ruler, whether an earl, king or emperor. Indeed, over the millennia, the most potent of their kind, those that remained un-mutated, known as the Golden Fortisar, had become the kings and emperors themselves. Ordinarily a Fortisar changed appearance physically during highly dangerous combat. The form they changed into was known as their Other. They subsequently bore the mark of their Other in a physical mutation from their human norm, for the rest of their lives. Their ancient genes came from a time of no-memory. Believed by many to have been a time of Man’s purest form, when his connection to all creatures and all natural magic was complete and unbroken. Varn had remained un-mutated, his Fortisar power was particularly special, refined even, his subtle abilities of manipulation were tried and tested to perfection.

Eaborald’s voice continued with more than a hint of mirth;

Though your own amorous exploits are unlikely to be the main point of gossip in the weeks to come old friend! He spoke to Dendarif, whilst glancing in Varn’s direction, who merely snorted and grunted deep in his chest, keeping his gaze fixed upon the distant city. The mage kept his own eye’s across at their leader, though Varn never considered himself to be such. Nor did he act like it and nor would he permit any person they met along their travels to call him so. They simply followed him and he followed the road of his fate. A road that had taken them far from their origins, their homes. Taken them to great fame, in many of the provinces and far flung communities of Horkendore. After that the road had taken them to their king, Jarlson of Hakren. Who sent them down whatever road from whence trouble came. That road had taken them to places beyond the realms of mankind, places with no names, no roads, no commerce, nor any other sign of sentient organisation. There they had confronted terrors and trials that had tested their cohesion and martial prowess to the utmost, yet ever the company had endured. Eaborald let out a short laugh as he stood by his friend, almost ignored.

What holds your gaze, your thoughts even, on yon city? He enquired of Varn. Does some spell hold you fixed so intently? He continued, winking over at the others.

Mayhap it has, we were foretold, after all. Dendarif interjected, glancing briefly over at Ischald, whilst simultaneously briefly indicating Laschald with the direction of his eyebrows, all of which Ischald followed without giving anything away. Dendarif continued immediately, keeping the outward focus upon Varn himself. The Great Sage spoke of your heritage, at the Learning Tree gathering that followed our last venture into Herancur At this Varn breathed deep and sighed;

Aye he uttered quietly, his tone indicating his acceptance of the wisdom offered him, after the great and famed adventure that he was being reminded of. All without moving his gaze or posture at all, projecting his voice over his left shoulder towards Dendarif. Now from behind his right shoulder, slightly farther away than the others, the fifth and final of the followers of Varn spoke. Standing up from the rock he had rested on briefly to adjust the buckles of his harness and armour, he had also followed Varn’s gaze towards the tallest and most twinkling minarets. Whilst listening to the others he had spent a few minutes in deep contemplation, focusing all of his senses on this moment. Standing up as straight as he could, on the balls of his feet, toes splayed wide for better grip and balance, Senn-Astron could see deeper into the mist than his companions with his deep green eyes. He was the farthest travelled and farthest from home of all of them. Varn had saved him from his own people, Senn having been shunned and exiled for an offence he was innocent of. He had been accused of desecrating a tomb. The truth was wrapped up in some ancient tribal feud amongst the Astrons and at some point in his youth, Senn had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. He had actually been attempting to repair the damage done to the tribal tomb, damage that had been committed by others of his particular sect. He had fought and cleared his name, but for the honour of his family who had made an agreement with their clan rivals, young Senn had been sent across the sea from the island of his birth. From his home he had sailed westward, alone, struggling against and wind for many days before landing on the northeast coast of Widenpeth, deep in the Hinterlands of Horkendore. He came from the realm of the Astronkind, a different and generally separate species of human. Instantly recognisable by their jet black hair, exotic features and black, green and brown skin, combined in unique patterns. They had a larger frame, broader chest and wider shoulders than most men. They also had very large hands and huge, thick-skinned, bare feet. The main facial differences were oval shaped green eyes, long ears, almost no nose and no facial hair. Although a very war-like species, with a warrior culture demanding strict codes of service