Champions of Circumstance

By Patrick Stigfeldt

Let me ask you this question: what does an exiled king, a thief with morals, a young sorcerer off on his own, a high elven wizard with secrets, an unlucky sell-sword, a somewhat clueless child, a man with gambling issues and a sewer needing cleaning have in common?

The answer is: not a whole lot.

But when the king is a three-meter-tall polar bear man, the thief one of the capital’s most wanted, the sorcerer unlucky, the wizard too prideful, the sell-sword cursed with the body of a snailman, the child eons old and made from rock, the gambler a blessed priest and the sewers filled with monsters, then things start getting interesting.

Now five hundred years after the defeat of Molthos the Enslaver, demon emperor and thousand years tyrant of the Almira continent, civilisation has flourished, and the annual Purge Festival is just around the corner in the human capital, Kivar.

Follow a group of less-than-compatible people as their chanced meeting and later enforced companionship get them caught in a deadly popularity contest in which they are forced to participate under the threat of prison. Follow our…not heroes…but champions brought together by circumstance as they battle slavers, oozes, giant insects, blood mages, living plants, nightmarish terrors and more.

Follow along in this book the opening act of an epic tale, depicting the story of those who go from strangers to comrades, to friends and to champions.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Release date: Feb 28, 2022
• ISBN: 9781528981958

Patrick Stigfeldt

Who is Patrick Stigfeldt? Well, first off, he’s the person who has been granted the possibility to live out one of his biggest dreams, namely the dream to share the amazing story brewing inside his mind with the rest of the world. Secondly, he’s someone who went from shunning social interaction, and who distrusted others, to at age 27, being married to his love of 11 years and slowly learning how to accept and tolerate others. Lastly, he’s the one with only a few but amazing friends, friends who, in a bit unusual way and even without knowing it, are instrumental to the existence and creation of the book Patrick wrote.

Book preview

About the Author

Who is Patrick Stigfeldt?

Well, first off, he’s the person who has been granted the possibility to live out one of his biggest dreams, namely the dream to share the amazing story brewing inside his mind with the rest of the world.

Secondly, he’s someone who went from shunning social interaction, and who distrusted others, to at age 27, being married to his love of 11 years and slowly learning how to accept and tolerate others.

Lastly, he’s the one with only a few but amazing friends, friends who, in a bit unusual way and even without knowing it, are instrumental to the existence and creation of the book Patrick wrote.

Copyright Information ©

Patrick Stigfeldt 2022

The right of Patrick Stigfeldt to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by the author in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.

Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

ISBN 9781528981934 (Paperback)

ISBN 9781528981941 (Hardback)

ISBN 9781528981958 (ePub e-book)

ISBN 9781398418240 (Audiobook)

www.austinmacauley.com

First Published 2022

Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd®

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Canary Wharf

London

E14 5AA

20230214

Prologue

Five hundred years ago, the demon emperor, Molthos the Enslaver, ruled over the entire continent of Almira, as he had already done for a thousand years. Having enslaved or killed anyone who dared stand against him, Molthos and his mortal allies had paradise on earth, a paradise paid for with the blood and anguish of the countless races working as slaves for their masters.

Molthos’ mortal allies were few but terrifying. To the southeast, the great empire of the Scorpius, monstrous scorpions from the waist down, humanoid from waist up, ruled all of the Talantar Desert with an iron fist. In the northern mountains and in every corner of the World veins, the Wryn, a dark-skinned and sadistic elven race, ruled. In the great Samira Jungle, the Araneae, a terrifying spider people, fuelled their never-ending blood sacrifices to their self-proclaimed god-queen, with thousands upon thousands of slaves. To the south, the lizardmen built titanic temples and monuments on the broken back of hundreds of thousands of slaves.

Finally, Molthos’ own citadel, located in the north-western corner of Almira and a construction so massive and foul that all land within three hundred miles had withered and died, leaving a dry, scared wasteland.

Molthos’ cruelty made his allies pale in comparison; he and his legions of demons tortured and murdered entire races for sport and entertainment alone. He flayed children alive in front of their parents, he melted the body and stripped the souls from millions of mortals to power his engines of war, he committed horrors and atrocities which are incomprehensible in mortal tongue, and he revelled in each and every death he caused.

Molthos was the supreme ruler of all of Almira. Everyone bowed before him, even the god-queen of the Araneae feared his wrath. All bowed, all but one race, one race which had stood against him since he invaded Almira from his home plane in the abyss, the Ursong. The Ursong, a race of mighty polar bear people, lived on the ever-frozen islands of Mukua. They were the only free-willed race left in Almira and they had been fighting a bloody war with Molthos’ armies since they arrived one thousand years ago.

The Ursong had kept Molthos at bay for a thousand years, but even they could not win against the endless hordes of demons Molthos had called forth from the abyss. The Ursong knew they could not last much longer alone, so as a last resort and through great effort, they engineered a magical vessel that would be able to travel through the dreaded fog Molthos had summoned around the entire continent, which made leaving and entering by sea route impossible. The Ursong managed to traverse the fog and reach the great sea; from there, they set sail towards the capital of their ancient ally, the high elves of Morina. The high elves were struck with horror when they heard what fate had befallen Almira. Fearful of what could happen to the rest of the world if Molthos was able to conquer the Ursong and thereby all of Almira, the high elves swore to aid in the liberation of the continent. Messages were sent to all corners of the high elves’ realm and to the great human empire in the south, calling for assistance to drive back the greatest evil the world had seen in many millennia.

The call was answered within a year of the Ursong’s arrival to the high elven realms. The greatest fleet the world had ever seen set was heading towards Almira. The Ursong had shared the knowledge of traversing the mist with the high elven council of arcanists, who had perfected the method and assured the safe landfall of every ship in the enormous fleet.

The combined armies of the human empire and the high elven realms struck the western shore of Almira and marched upon the land of the Araneae. The Araneae, too proud and confident in their own strength, saw the approaching armies as the perfect opportunity to prove their worth to Molthos… This was a mistake.

Greatly outnumbered and outmatched, the Araneae were beaten back into their capital in a matter of weeks, and when they realised their mistake in trying to take on the invading force all on their own, it was already too late. Driven into a corner, the god-queen of the Araneae emerged from her palace of horrors and struck out at her enemies with almost divine power. A titanic battle between the god-queen and the high elves council of grand arcanists unfolded in the centre of the capital. The battle was so intense and magic so powerful was released that even the gods were struck with awe. The battle lasted four days and four nights, and neither the liberating army of humans and elves nor the opposing army of Araneae dared interfere. At dawn of the fifth day, a terrible scream erupted from within the city, the earth cracked open and swallowed up half the capital before closing again. Thunder roared, the wind howled and black lightning crackled across the sky. All a result of the monstrous battle that had occurred and still, both armies stood still, waiting for the victor to show. After what felt like years for the combatants, something could finally be seen through the dust that filled the air around the capital. Out from the dust, two high elven arcanists stumbled through the debris of battle. The two were the only survivors of the nine high councillors who entered the city. At this moment, the Araneae surrendered. Broken, they put down their weapons and turned themselves over as captives. This was the first victory in the long campaign against Molthos.

With the Araneae defeated and the races they had enslaved and oppressed freed, the joined army of humans, high elves and former slaves struck further into Almira.

The war was long and bloody, and every mile of land won was paid for with the lives of good soldiers, but as the liberating army advanced, their number grew and grew. For every countryside, town, city and metropolis where Molthos and his allies were beaten back, former slaves rose up and joined the battle, fighting for freedom and revenge against the monsters who had abused and enslaved them for a millennium.

As the war continued and news of their master’s armies losing, the people living in fear and oppression started to see hope. Soon slave rebellions plagued Molthos’ allies. But even though his empire was being invaded, his allies beaten back and their slaves revolting, Molthos’ own slaves did not see hope, because they had witnessed his terrifying power and horrible cruelty first-hand, and they knew that nothing in this world could stand up to his might…

After twelve years of war and countless dead on both sides, the army of liberation was closing in on the grand temple city Akua Naau. When the lizardmen saw that defeat was near, they performed a feat of magic that the world had never seen before, with the blood of an incomprehensive number of slaves and the power released from their sacrifice, together with the power of every living priest and mage in their empire, the lizardmen ripped a huge chunk of land loss from Almira’s coast and moved it a thousand miles away from the mainland.

The lizardmen had left most of their land almost completely undefended when they moved Akua Naau, meaning that the slaves left behind could be liberated with minimal losses. Those freed quickly turned their attention north, towards the Wryn. The Wryn, suffering greatly under slave rebellions and the intensified attack from the liberating army, abandoned their surface strongholds and retreated underground to their dark cities far beneath the surface, leaving the Scorpius and a furious Molthos’ demon army to fight off the invaders.

As the Wryn retreated, the way to Molthos’ own fortress had been opened, and soon the collected army of all Almira’s races and their liberators stood at Molthos’ doorstep. The Scorpius had by now been pressed back to their capital and could not aid Molthos, thus the enslaver was alone.

The armies of good and evil clashed in the shadow of Molthos’ giant citadel, and even though the demon army was vast beyond understanding, it was being beaten by the collected strength of the hundreds upon hundreds of races who had lived in bondage under Molthos’ rule for a thousand years, and who now struck back at him with all their wrath and hate. But just as victory seemed at hand, Molthos himself emerged from gates at the heart of his evil empire, wielding a giant mace in one hand and a colossal sword in the other. He took on wave after wave of soldiers, crushed champions and slaughtered heroes. He seemed both immortal and unstoppable, slaying his foes by the thousands. He alone was turning the tides of battle. With their emperor finally at their side and the enemy wavering, the demon army fought with renewed bloodlust.

Just as the battle seemed lost and the retreat was about to be sounded, a thundering roar filled the air; the Ursong had arrived. The demonic armies who had invaded their homeland had been without reinforcement, and the Ursong had used the opportunity to crush them and to take back their land. After having driven out the last demons, the Ursong had heard about the coming battle at the black citadel and had set sail towards the mainland, not a second too late.

The Ursong, led by their warrior king, Narruk, charged the demons, decimating every foe in sight. At the sight of the legendary Ursong, who had held their ground against Molthos’ endless armies for a thousand years, the fleeing soldiers rallied once more. But still, it wasn’t enough; the demons fell left and right, many fleeing into the citadel terrified by the almost Other-worldly might of the Ursong, but Molthos did not falter. Even before the might of the legendary Ursong, he could not be defeated. He tossed aside even the most towering of Ursong like they were nothing, and laughed, as their weapons broke upon his body, still he brought carnage to his enemies. Molthos stood before the gates of his citadel, and single-handedly held the largest army the world had ever seen at bay. Nothing could stop him. The corpses of slain foes littered the ground before him and still, he showed no sign of slowing down.

It was at this moment Narruk emerged from the ranks of his warriors, calling out Molthos, demanding that he met him in single combat. Molthos, drunk in the carnage he brought, tossed back his head and laughed, a laughter that was quickly silenced as Narruk’s first blow landed. The earth shook and quaked around Molthos as he just barely managed to block Narruk’s mighty axe. The following battle was unlike any ever witnessed. No magic was involved, only pure, raw strength, and still the world heaved as Molthos and Narruk exchanged blows, the sky split in two under the thundering crash of their weapons, and Molthos, once believed to be immortal, now bled. The battle lasted over an hour, with every blow carrying enough weight to send giants flying and the shockwaves from their clashing weapons tearing up the ground and echoing for miles around. And then, amidst all the chaos and destruction, their duel suddenly ended. Narruk’s axe had slipped past Molthos’ defences and tore through his black armour, mortally wounding him, and at the same time, Molthos’ sword found Narruk’s heart. Both were dead before they hit the ground. The age of the enslaver was over, Almira was free once again and a new sun was dawning.

Now, 1500 years after the demonic invasion and five hundred years since the war against Molthos, the continent is at peace, civilisation has flourished and the annual festival in the human capital is approaching, and with it, a busy time for Quintoris, the half-elf thief.

Chapter One

Unlikely Allies

Hey! Get back here, you little scoundrels! Quintoris yelled angrily, as he realised that the kids, who had bumped into him a handful seconds ago, had stolen his pouch containing the sorry remains of last night’s ill-gained earnings.

Quintoris, a very handsome young man, and the result of a young human servant girl and an elf noble looking too deep in each other’s eyes, started running, hoping to catch the young thieves. He was of average height, slightly muscular, and his skin was always tanned, something he had inherited from his mother who originated from a small town not far from the Talantar Desert. His eyes were soft brown, as was his thick, neck-long hair and he had a tiny scar on the left side of his chin, something which many a lady friend of his said made him look a little dangerous. Being quite able at his trade, Quintoris wore a well-kept, sleeveless leather vest over a light-grey linen shirt which matched his pants. The shirt ended shortly after his shoulders, not even reaching his elbows, and his feet and shins were covered by a pair of sturdy leather boots.

Argh… Even though Quintoris should greatly outmatch the kids in speed, stamina and agility, he had a hard time catching up to them, this being because of his enormous hangover. A hangover he had acquired after a very long night of heavy drinking and friendly company, a night which had of course not been paid for with his own money.

Thief by trade since an early age, Quintoris had last night climbed in through the bedroom window of some minor noble, who had long been known to exploit the desperate, poor and homeless in Kivar, to have them produce his wares in detestable working environments. After having quickly and quietly emptied the nobleman’s house of most jewellery, Quintoris had left, found his usual jewellery buyer, gotten paid and then hit his favourite tavern. From there on, it all got a little blurry.

As he began nearing the eastern city gate, Quintoris, head now pounding and eyes turning slightly blurry from the indescribable headache, considered letting the thieving kids get away…

Well, it’s just a few silvers… AND I get to keep a low profile until the festival next week… Quintoris mumbled to himself, as he ducked his head down a barrel of rainwater, the cold water freshening him up a bit and clearing his mind, clearing it enough to remember why he could absolutely NOT let those kids get away. "CRAP! If anyone hears about this, that I, Quintoris, was robbed by a band of snot-nosed brats pulling a simple bump-in stunt…"

Headache almost forgotten by the thought of the months-long ridicule and humiliation he would face, if anyone in the Kivar criminal underworld heard about this, Quintoris quickly located the kids and sprinted after them. Lucky for him, the kids’ escape had momentarily been blocked by a farmer entering the city with his herd of sheep, allowing him to quickly gain on them.

At the eastern city gate, Björn Dons passed a pair of guards who were currently very busy trying to get an explanation out of a snail-man, who by the sound of it, had been discovered to carry vials containing both poison and acid. I assure you that I have no knowledge of how those vials got there! the snail-man frantically tried to explain. Someone must have put them in my backpack without me noticing!

Like we are going to believe crap like that! the guard in charge shouted. The whole scene was starting to draw a lot of attention, notably because of the exotic-looking snail-man who had now also started shouting, clearly feeling like the victim.

Dons moved past the scenery with little to no interest, casting a large shadow over the now very noisy gathering of guards who had decided to arrest the snail-man, who in turn was voicing loud and very insisting protests.

Excuse me, sir, one of the guards shouted after him, can you wait for a moment, we would like to have a quick chat with you.

Dons ignored the guard and continued forward. Quick chat, he sneered to himself, I don’t have time for weaklings like them.

Before he got much further, Dons heard hasty footsteps behind him. Sir, you HAVE to wait, you can’t just enter the city without permission, the guard said in a harsh voice.

Dons turned around to face the guard and his two colleagues. "And who said I need permission from tiny twigs like you?" Dons replied with a deep rumbling voice, hinting both a threat and a challenge.

Dons was a sight to behold, standing almost three metres tall, covered in white fur, dusty from travel, weighing more than a ton, donning the dark-blue armour of the Ursong and with a battle-axe longer than the guard strapped on to his back. The guards cowered when they met his glare, unwillingly taking a step back.

Clearly intimidated by the towering Ursong’s annoyed glare, the guard to the right sank and replied nervously, By order of Guard Lieutenant Kristoff, we are to question anyone entering the city without a clear purpose…especially anyone who looks like an adventurer… Having regained a bit of his confidence, the guard continued, And since you are carrying nothing but a giant axe and a backpack, you are looking very much like the latter.

And what if I refuse to talk with you, little man? Dons replied both provocatively and indifferently.

Then we will have to arrest you, like we did with the snail-man, the guard replied, failing to sound confident whilst also pointing towards the snail-man who was now being dragged away in handcuffs.

YOU will arrest ME? Dons said in a dangerous voice. You and what army?

Clearly not happy with the direction this conversation was heading, the guard on the left joined in. Please, sir, we mean no ill will. We just want to ask what you intend to do in the city and to take a quick look at what you will be bringing into the city. That’s all; after that, you are free to le—

I don’t have time for your games, Dons cut the guard off, if you want to ask questions, draw your weapon and earn the right. The guards were stunned by the blood-chilling seriousness in his voice. I thought so, Dons sneered, you’re as cowardly as you’re weak. He turned around and continued into the city.

We need some help over here! one of the guards behind Dons shouted. This one wants to fight, he continued. A few moments later, the largest of the guards he had just been talking to ran up in front of Dons, spear now in hand.

Sir, you are under arrest for threats made against the guard, and for obstruction of guard work. Dons looked around; he was surrounded by eight guards, all wielding spears. Just follow us back to the station and no one is going to get hurt, the squad leader proclaimed in a clear voice.

Quite a few people had stopped whatever task they had previously been carrying out to watch the incident which was unfolding before them: a member of the proud Ursong race had been surrounded by eight guardsmen and was refusing to follow orders.

This is more like it, Dons growled with dangerous anticipation, let’s see if you cowards do more than bark.

Just as he was about to reach for his axe, Dons and everyone else had their attention forced elsewhere when some of the spectators were suddenly and violently pushed aside by a group of five frightened-looking kids closely followed by a young half-elf.

Thieves! Quintoris shouted, as he ran through the crowd. They stole my pouch, someone stop them.

Hearing the word thief like that made Dons remember Tomber; the little abomination had destroyed the Nargolar and stolen irreplaceable parts, effectively making it impossible to produce anymore Hau, the substance which was such a crucial part of every Ursong’s life. It had been his responsibility as king to protect the Nargolar and oversee the production of Hau, and when he had failed that responsibility, Dons had been cast out by his people, exiled.

Remembering Tomber and the humiliation he had caused him not that long ago awoke excruciating and horrible memories which he had buried deep within the darkest corners of his mind. The sudden flare-up of memories caused Dons’ blood to boil violently, and with every utterance of the word thief from the half-elf’s throat, it boiled hotter and hotter until his anger erupted. The still all-too-fresh pain and rage hurled Dons into a mind-numbing, berserker-like frenzy.

The turmoil made by the kids and the half-elf had caused the guards to lose their focus for a brief moment, and when they redirected their attention towards Dons again, it was too late. Dons flung himself forward, tossing three guards aside, as he landed on all four and charged after the half-elf and the kids, letting lose a terrifying roar that scattered the crowd as everyone panicked.

To the north of the capital centre, Eekoi strolled around after having just delivered the blueprints for Kivar’s mage college’s new focus-crystal, a device that allowed extraction of arcwine directly from the winds of arcana. Arcwine was used in the creation of most arcane items and trading goods, as well as being sold to rich nobles as a form of exotic liquor. The production of arcwine was one of the main pillars in any major mage college’s economy, and when Kivar’s crystal had shown signs of old age, they had reached out to the Balthazar Mage College who specialised in arcane crystals and their incorporation in magical devices…’yawn’…

Just starting to think about the incredible complex nature of focus-crystals made Eekoi drowsy. The whole process of understanding and creating focus-crystals was very tedious and academic, and Eekoi had never been much for study.

He had been abandoned at the doorstep of the Balthazar Mage College when he had been an infant, and as practice at the college, where he had been taken in and raised, all orphans would help with the day-to-day tasks as soon as they were old enough, and if they so desired, they would receive magical education at the age of twelve, possibly younger if they showed a natural talent, something which Eekoi hadn’t.

Eekoi had been excited to begin his education as a wizard, but never really showed any talent. The path of wizards was one of constant study, repetition and pinpoint precision, and Eekoi was a boy of action. Though he lacked talent and real dedication, he had continued to study as a wizard for eight years. But then, on his twentieth birthday, his sorcerous powers awoke. Even though his powers had awoken late, Eekoi quickly showed great promise as a sorcerer; the way sorcerers shaped their spells with raw will and emotion instead of careful study and long-time practice as wizards did was much more his style.

Now, a little more than five years after his powers awoke, Eekoi had once again grown a little bored with college life and had happily volunteered when the headmaster of his college had asked who would travel to the capital to deliver the focus-crystal blueprints to Kivar. A trip which couldn’t be eased by teleportation magic, as the magic weaved into the blueprints would disrupt the teleportation, likely sending the blueprints as well as the poor soul carrying them to the bottom of the ocean.

It had been a four-month travel on horseback and Eekoi, who had never been outside the city where the mage college was located, had been overjoyed by the chance to experience the world first-hand and had thoroughly enjoyed his trip…well, enjoyed it after he had finally stopped being sore from spending half the day on horseback, that was. Now he had delivered the blueprints and wanted to spend a few weeks exploring the capital and the land around it, before buying teleportation back to the college.

Eekoi, being a very normal-looking young man, didn’t sprout much of a body, and was neither what would normally be described as attractive or unattractive in any way, just a bit ordinary, the only exception being his very clear-blue eyes, and pitch-black hair and short, well-kept, chin beard.

What a lovely summer day, Eekoi thought to himself, as he strolled around in one of the city’s larger market squares, feeling the warmth of the sun on his face while looking for something interesting to buy. Perhaps I should get me some new clothes, I stand out an awful lot, he thought, almost feeling a bit flustered, as he noticed how most people looked puzzled at his bright red college robes.

Maybe I should go to the port, I always wanted to see the ocean, he wondered absent-mindedly, as he was counting up silver pieces to pay for his new clothes.

Suddenly, and without any warning, Eekoi was pulled away from his ocean fantasies and back into the real world when a teenage girl in tattered clothes snatched his purse out of his hands and violently shoved him into the clothing stall he was about to buy from. Eekoi stumbled and fell headfirst into the display, tearing down multiple shirts and toppling crates as he struggled to get up, while he heard the stall owner shout angry curses after the teenager.

When Eekoi got up, he saw the girl being chased by two guards, who disappeared down a street leading away from the marketplace. After her, you idiot! the stall owner shouted at Eekoi. Make sure they get her so someone can pay for this mess.

Yes, of course, Eekoi replied, still a little confused, as he set after the girl.

A healthy soul in a healthy body, his teachers had said.

Well… Eekoi thought panting, his physical exhaustion from just a minute of sprinting had left his lungs burning and sides hurting. I got the soul part…might have wanted to take the body part more serious… he continued, and cursed himself for not participating more in physical education.

As he slowed down to regain his breath, Eekoi could see the girl nearing the end of the street, seemed like she was outrunning the guards who were slowed down carrying both their swords, shields and light armour. In a desperate attempt to try and scare the girl, Eekoi summoned a bolt of force in his right hand which he launched towards her, but due to his exhaustion from running a few hundred metres, his aim was way off. He hit a window on the first floor, blowing the shutters off the hinges. The girl looked surprised by the sound but did not trip as he had hoped.

Blasted! Eekoi mumbled frustrated under his staggered breath. That was the money I was going to live off for the next month, he thought bitterly. Suddenly, two more guards appeared just around the street corner, right in front of the girl. Clearly taken by surprise, she tried to change direction to avoid colliding with the new guards, but it was too late, she curled up in anticipation of the impact… She went right through the guard on the right as if he was made of air, still at full speed but now heavily off balance, she smashed into the ground screaming in pain from the impact.

Now that she lay screaming on the ground, the two guards, who had been chasing her, quickly caught up to her, as did Eekoi some moments later. Those illusions, one of the guards asked Eekoi, was that you?

No, I— Eekoi did not get further with his response before being interrupted by a tall elf with blonde hair and clad in a soft light-grey mage’s robe, who strolled out of a nearby bookstore.

I created the illusions, the tall elf answered in a rather soft voice, name’s Laucian Sindale by the way.

You dislocated my knee, you asshole! the girl shouted through tears of pain. Could you not just keep your long nose to yourself? she continued.

Miss, you better stop insulting people, so I can concentrate on fixing your leg, the youngest of the guards barked at her. He was rewarded with a long line of curses and insults, the intensity of which made Eekoi blush slightly.

I believe this is yours. The other guard who was sprouting a red beard approached Eekoi with his purse in hand.

Thank you, Eekoi replied, and thanks for the assistance… Laucian, was it? Oh, and my name is Eekoi.

Yeah, thanks for the help, the guard with the purse nodded, don’t think we would have caught her on our own, she’s a fast one. Laucian shook both their outstretched hands.

It was no bother, he said smiling. With Laucian being this close, Eekoi could now see that both his eyes were pitch black; there was not a hint of colour to be seen in them, not even a white ring at the edge.

Well, we better get little miss pickpocket back to the station, the red-bearded guard said to his younger partner who had finished examining the girl’s leg.

I don’t think I can relocate her knee without a healer’s help, said the guard who had exanimated her.

So we are going to have to carry her?

Suddenly, while the two guards were discussing how best to get the girl to the station, and while Eekoi was paying an angry mother for the shutters he blew off her home, a thundering roar could be heard from an alley further up the street. Five young boys came sprinting out of an alley, panic painted on their faces, as they ran further down the street towards a poorer part of Kivar. A rumbling sound could be heard from down the alley; it sounded like a massive boulder was ploughing through the alley, crushing everything in its way. Both the guards, Laucian, Eekoi and the girl, who had for a moment stopped cursing at everyone around her, looked towards the alley with frightful anticipation. A giant polar bearman, clad in armour and with a huge axe across his back, emerged from the alley, running full speed while down on all four legs like a wild animal. The bearman stopped for a second as he exited the alley, stood up and scanned the area around him, eyes burning with blind hate. As he locked his eyes on the kids, he once again dropped back on all four, let loose another terrifying roar and charged after them once more.

We should probably do something about that… the guard who had examined the girl said to his partner, who was staring after the polar bearman with disbelieve painted all over his face.

We don’t get paid nearly enough to deal with a rampaging Ursong, the red-bearded guard replied startled.

Well, I am no fan of the idea either, but if Kristoff heard we ignored this, he is going to skin us alive.

I WILL TELL HIM EVERYTHING, TROLL-SHITS! the girl started yelling again.

Guess we have no choice then, the red-bearded guard said with a sigh. Chain the girl to the cart, the red-bearded guard said, ma’am, will you look after her until we or some other guards come and take care of her? he continued to the woman whose shutters Eekoi had blown off. She nodded while counting the money Eekoi had given her.

Do you need any help? Eekoi asked the guards.

We are not allowed to ask civilians for help in any form, besides information, the red-bearded replied.

But if you just so happened to walk by and interfere out of your own free will, then we would not be the ones to complain, the younger guard said with a grin.

I have never met an Ursong before, might be interesting, Laucian added, sounding more interested and curious than Eekoi thought the situation allowed.

Guess it’s settled then, red-beard sighed, just promise that you won’t get yourself hurt, it’s my ass if you do.

Promise, Eekoi replied excitedly, nervous at the possibility of seeing some action. Laucian just nodded, as his almost academic attention was fixed on the rapidly disappearing Ursong ahead of him.

Dons had chased the kids for a good ten minutes. They had managed to stay ahead of him by keeping to small alleys and streets where he had trouble picking up speed due to all the quick turns and the lack of space, as well as all the obstacles in form of the Kivar citizens, barrels, carts and other objects left standing around, even though he could just crush or toss most of the obstacles aside, they still slowed him down a little. When he finally reached a street where he had the space he needed, he was met with the staring gazes of two guards, a puny elf, a weak-looking human in red robes, a girl and a bombastic looking human female. Somehow, this just made him even more furious, but he quickly forgot about them when his eyes once again caught the kids; the fear had given their small feet wings it looked like. One of them had also soiled himself at the sound of Dons’ roar earlier, a smell that had almost disconcerted him for a moment.

When Dons finally caught up with the kids, they had turned down an empty street with no exit, but he could not see them. They are here somewhere! I can smell the one who shit himself, Dons instinctively thought, his other senses dulled by misplaced rage. WHERE ARE YOU HIDING, THIEVES? Dons roared, as he slowly moved down the street, trying to pinpoint the location of the kids by smell. Suddenly, he saw movement through the window of one of the empty buildings. There you are, he snared, gripping his axe. Now I will show you how we handle thieves back north, he yelled.

Blinded by rage and mind-numbed by terrible memories, he continued, You cost me my throne, Tomber! I was exiled because of you! Lost in hate and anger, Dons continued, not even aware whom he was hunting anymore. I lost everything! My honour! My people! You robbed us of the sweet song of Hau! But once I take your head, I will have it all back!

Had Dons not been so lost in the mists of rage and loss, he would have seen that there was movement to be seen in more than just one window.

Eekoi, Laucian and the two guards, who had presented themselves as Brom and Oliver, Brom being the older red-bearded one, had followed the bearman up to the empty street and could now hear him ramble on about someone named Tomber. Okay, Brom started, when we turn the corner, stay back and let us try to talk him down, do not interfere unless it gets violent.

But if it does, please interfere a lot, Oliver said with a nervous smile, both Eekoi and Laucian nodded. Eekoi, whose initial rush of adrenalin had worn off, started to question if he was about to bite off more than he could chew.

Dons had almost reached the door to the house from where he had seen movement; just before he could bash in the door, the mist of rage he had been lost in was pierced by a sharp bark from some human behind him. Mister Ursong, I must ask you to put that weapon away, a red-bearded human male more ordered than asked in a loud authoritarian voice with a hint of anxiety.

This is none of your business! Dons furiously bellowed back, as he kicked the door open…only to be met with a sharp blade slashing at him. Dons managed to pull away fast enough for the blade to only leave an insignificant wound on his forearm but was left confused for a moment, the kids would never dare attack him…

Eekoi and Laucian who had followed the guards halfway down the street now saw as well as heard the doors all around them slam open, and from within the buildings believed abandoned, thugs armed with clubs, knives and chains emerged. The thugs quickly surrounded Eekoi, Laucian, Brom and Oliver as well as the bearman, and the sadistic—and…greedy…?—looks on their faces sent chills down Eekoi’s spine, while Laucian’s face contracted in a grimace of annoyance and frustration.

Dons had been ripped out of his blind rage by the sharp pain coming from the shallow wound on his forearm, and he now slowly backed towards the middle of the street, while quickly surveying the situation. As the large gang of thugs encircled Dons, he ended up almost standing back to back with the guards and their two companions who he had vaguely registered earlier.

When little Jack told me that a bearman was following him, I thought he had eaten something rotten and was hallucinating again, a soft but sharp female voice said from inside the house where Dons had broken down the door. To think that we were actually lucky enough to get an Ursong suffering from Hau withdrawals to walk right into our trap must be a sign that lady luck is finally on our side, the woman continued, as she walked out of the ruined door. The woman was quite young as far as Eekoi could see through the wall of thugs, early twenties he guessed, and she was also wearing much better clothes than the rest of her gang. Eekoi was quite sure he could see her wear some kind of light leather armour and her daggers didn’t look cheap either.

The gang leader, which was what Eekoi guessed her to be as he got a short clean view of her, would probably have been viewed as quite the beauty, with her somewhat tall and slender yet strong figure, fire-red hair and well-placed freckles, if not for the nasty burn mark on her left chin and neck, as well as her nose which had obviously been broken quite violently and never seen a healer.

As a member of the city guard, I command you all to stand down and surrender, Oliver suddenly erupted out of sheer nerves, only getting a mocking laughter in return.

Here is how it works, kiddo, the woman spoke condescendingly, you strip down to your underwear, leaving everything here, and we might just let you live.

And if I refuse? Oliver replied defiantly.

Then we kill you and take everything anyway, the gang leader replied indifferently. Both work for me, so it’s your choice really, she added mockingly.

Before Oliver could come with a reply, Brom put an elbow in his side. Silence, boy, you are making it worse. Oliver let out a dissatisfied sound but stayed nervously silent. And what about the Ursong and the two civilians? Brom asked and pointed towards Eekoi and Laucian who stood cramped in between the guards and Dons. Does the same rule apply to them?

Not quite, they are to hand over everything they got and then leave with us, the two civilians as you call them are clearly mages of some sort, and together with the bear they will be worth a hefty sum of gold if sold as slaves, the woman answered with a greedy smile; the thugs soon shared that expression.

I’d rather die than become a slave to some weakling! Dons snared at the woman.

I would prefer you just becoming unconscious, the woman answered mockingly, dead slaves are hard to sell.

I don’t really want to become a slave either, Eekoi added anxiously, legs shaking, this was way more excitement than he had wished for.

I quite frankly don’t have the time to be a slave, Laucian followed up, his voice more hinting slight impatience than fear.

We’re not letting civilians be taken as slaves right in front of our eyes, Brom added sternly, Oliver nervously nodding in agreement.

Slightly annoyed, the woman responded, You really think you can win this? There are fourteen of us, and all you got is two guards, a creepy-looking elf, an idiot in a red robe whose legs are shaking so hard I’m surprised they have not given in yet, and an Ursong who clearly hasn’t seen battle for a long, long time. If the two mages had the power to blast their way out of here, they would have done so already! She stopped to breathe for a moment. Still think it’s a good idea resisting? she added, now sounding quite annoyed, almost as if she felt her time being wasted.

You weaklings would not be able to defeat as much as a single Ursong cub, and much less me! Dons replied in a threatening and dominating voice, having regained his composure after his memory-induced rampage and being pulled out of the same, Dons had quickly taken measure of the foes he faced, they threatened him even less then the eight guards had earlier…

Well, have it your way, the gang leader scornfully hissed.

Boys! she shouted. Kill the guards and beat the three idiots to the brink of death. With a bloodthirsty roar, the thugs leaped forward, eyes burning with lust for violence. Brom and Oliver drew their swords and shield, Laucian’s hands and eyes started to glow bright purple, orbs of fire sprung to life in Eekoi’s palms, and Dons, gripping his axe even tighter, let out a thundering battle roar, as he launched forward to meet his foes head on.

Chapter Two

Blood and Tears

Dons swung his axe with all his might, his blow carrying more than enough power to feel all five thugs in front of him in one massive sweeping strike. But he had swung too early, only hitting air while the thugs sent him mocking glances.

The bandit leader had been right, Dons painfully realised; his skills had gotten terribly rusty from not having trained with his kinsmen for almost two years, and his body was far from the physical peak it had been when he was still sustained by the wonderful Hau, which Tomber had robbed him and his people of.

Once I would have taken all of you on alone, Dons angrily muttered to himself, as he took on a more defensive stance awaiting his opponent’s next move.

Eekoi and Laucian stood in the middle of the small triangle that Dons, Brom and Oliver had formed. Brom and Oliver while outnumbered held the thugs at bay with their superior training and their round wooden shields.

Eekoi sent one of the thugs screaming to the ground as he hurled a bolt of fire at him, engulfing his torso in bright but short-lived flames, which for a moment filled the air with the smell of charred flesh, a smell, which combined with the difficulties Eekoi had with just having purposely hurt another sentient being, caused the young sorcerer’s stomach to turn.

Seeing their comrade hurt, two thugs, both wielding clubs, leaped at Eekoi before he had time to manifest another spell. Brom just barely managed to block off both thugs aiming for Eekoi with his shield, the clubs made a loud bang as they hit the wooden surface, and the force from two simultaneous blows tossed Brom off balance, opening his flank to a knife-wielding thug who quickly exploited the opportunity and thrusted his knife at Brom’s chest. The knife stopped dead in the air an inch from Brom’s flesh, the air around the tip of the blade shimmered faintly purple. Both Brom and the thug were taken by surprise, but with Brom being the one to collect his mind the fastest, he brought his sword down on the thug’s still outstretched arm, cutting his hand clean off. The thug stumbled backward into his comrades and fell to his knees, screaming in pain.

Was that you, elf? Brom quickly asked, as he turned to face the two club-wielding thugs he had blocked a moment ago.

Yes, Laucian distractedly answered, as he was preparing another spell, it will last a few more seconds, he then quickly added.

The gold we will get from selling those idiots and their belongings will be more than enough to pay for healers for all of you, the gang leader shouted, don’t worry about getting a little hurt, she added with a sadistic smile.

With the woman’s proclamation, the thugs became more aggressive and reckless, especially in their assault of Brom and Oliver. And as Brom saw that Oliver was about to panic, he swung aggressively at his two opponents, forcing them back, buying time to quickly slap Oliver over the back of his head. Pull yourself together, boy, Brom barked hard, and then continued in a more fatherly voice, keep your stance low, shield high and retaliate quickly, we are not getting killed by these scum.

Yes, sir! Oliver responded determined, courage returning to his eyes.

Laucian, standing a little more than two metres tall, scouted over the heads of his allies and coldly assessed the situation. Currently, there were nine thugs involved in direct combat, five of them with the Ursong and two with Brom and Oliver each, two thugs had been incapacitated and were no threat, the rest were keeping a little distance, trying to find an opening. They are not complete idiots, Laucian thought to himself slightly surprised, normally a group of thugs like those would just have piled up on us, which would have made it easy for me and Eekoi to deal with them. Annoyed with his enemies’ surprising lack of incompetence, Laucian decided that he would need to be a little more direct in his approach than usual and started softly chanting the words to a summoning spell.

Dons was hard-pressed keeping all five thugs he faced at bay, four of them kept dashing in and out of the melee, delivering quick strikes while he was swinging at another. Luckily, his armour absorbed most of the hits, but some of them managed to strike unprotected areas, leaving painful cuts and brushes. The fifth thug was a young teenager wielding a chain that he, too little effect, tried using as a whip.

Having learned the teenager’s attack pattern, Dons suddenly caught the chain in his left hand, as the boy attacked with it. The boy who did not perceive the mortal danger he was in, stubbornly held onto the chain, trying to drag the Ursong to the ground, and with one powerful jerk, Dons tore the teenager forward towards himself. The boy collided with a half-orc who had seen Dons’ outstretched arm as an easy target, causing them both to tumble to the ground. Dons lifted his huge battle-axe over his head, both hands on it once again, and brought it down on the two thugs at his feet with a blood-chilling roar, killing both instantly. The horrible sound of bones splintering and flesh being torn filled the air, followed by a loud crack as Dons cleaved both his victims in two and his axe collided with the street below, spraying blood everywhere, causing all the thugs in front of him to take a frightened step back.

Quintoris had lost track of the kids after the insane bearman knocked him over into a pile of empty boxes inside a narrow alley. When he had finally picked himself up, both the bear and the kids had been gone.

Damn, bear! Quintoris cursed. Why, in all of the eight hells, did it have to interfere? I almost had them, and then he comes roaring and yelling like a lunatic, scares them half to death, knocks me over and ruins my favourite vest! he continued, as he saw the tear his vest had gotten from a pointy piece of wood. Well, at least it’s the vest and not me that’s torn, he thought to himself, as he started treading further down the alley, continuing in the direction from where he had last heard the bearman’s roar.

If I was a little brat of a pickpocket, and I was being chased by a foaming mad, giant bearman, who looks like he wants to eat me for a snack, where would I go? Quintoris mumbled, as he started picking up speed again.

Would probably run into poor town, they should be able to lose the bear there. Now that I come to think about it, why did they not just shake me off at the beginning? I realised that they had taken my pouch way too late; they could just have split up, turned down any street and jumped into an alley each, and I would have had no chance whatsoever of finding them. Quintoris’ run suddenly came to a halt, as he realised what was going on, and the thought sent a chill down his spine.

"They did not shake me because they didn’t want to, they wanted me to follow them…or she wanted me to follow them… seems like Katarina is up to her old tricks once more," Quintoris mumbled, the words leaving a bitter taste in his mouth, as he realised how lucky he had been to be knocked into those crates. She would have skinned me alive if she caught me, especially after what happened last time, he thought, the memory bringing a sad smile to his lips. Well, the bear might be an ass, but he does not deserve to fall into Katarina’s hands, he sighed, as he understood that what those words meant. I have to go and try and save him, Katarina being as she is, is kind of my fault after all. Quintoris damned his mother for having raised him with a good conscience, he had no problem stealing from people who had more than enough already, but letting an innocent fall into the claws of Katarina… He would not be able to face himself or his mother’s grave if he walked out on this one. Quintoris started running again, quickly picking up speed as he pushed himself to sprint even faster. He knew where Katarina would be, he only hoped it was not too late.

Back in the abandoned street, Eekoi, Dons and Laucian, together with Brom and Oliver, were hard pressed keeping their ground against Katarina and her thugs. Dons’ brutal execution of two of their comrades had shocked the thugs for a moment, but the shock was quickly replaced by rage and they had renewed their assault with increased ferocity.

Laucian had finished his summoning and shouted the final command word. A large dog with a slightly otherworldly glow, materialised right behind one of the thugs that were bringing down blow after blow on Oliver, who only barely managed to hang on, as he already suffered from multiple cuts and a nasty bruise after a chain hit his right arm, giving him difficulties handling his sword properly. The dog attacked the thug, sinking its teeth onto his leg and pulling him off balance.

As the thug pummelled to the ground, crying out in pain and surprise as the dog’s teeth tore his flesh, two of the thugs who had previously kept their distance jumped to his aid—exactly as Laucian had hoped—with their attention solely focused on the dog and their comrade in need, the tall elf stretched both his hands out towards the unaware thugs and spoke a quick incantation. An explosion of painfully sharp colours, some not even of this world, shot forth from Laucian’s hands and caught both thugs completely off guard. They were knocked backward by the sheer intensity of the colours, one immediately dropping unconscious while the other rolled around on the ground, temporarily blinded as his eyes slowly recovered. The otherworldly dog dissolved into a silvery mist as the thug it had pinned finally managed to hit it with his knife. Laucian did not worry; the dog itself was unharmed. It was only its material form in this world that had been temporarily destroyed.

Somewhat content with the result, Laucian took a moment to catch his breath as he looked around assessing the situation. It did not look good; even though they had taken out six thugs, more had emerged from the houses and the remaining twelve continued their assault, rallied on by their leader. And to make matters worse, he could feel his body aching all over, he had been forced to conjure multiple magical barriers to help the two guards survive, and together with the combo he had just pulled off, he was pushing his body to the limit of how much magic it could channel in one day. I only have enough strength to forge one more spell, maybe two, Laucian thought nervously, as he felt the fear slowly creeping into his mind, and Eekoi doesn’t look like he can keep going for much longer either.

Stand still, you dodgy scum! Eekoi yelled frustrated at a thug of elven origin, who, quick as the wind, was dashing back and forth between his comrades, delivering lightning-fast stabs and cuts to Dons and Brom. Eekoi had hurled another orb of fire at him when he appeared last time, but he had dodged it with ease, repaying Eekoi’s effort with a shallow but nevertheless painful stab wound in his right leg which made quick turns very excruciating. Eekoi responded to the stab wound by firing a beam of freezing energy at the elf, who was only graced as he dodged sideways and ran out of a frustrated and almost panicking Eekoi’s field of vision. Arhhhh! Eekoi exhaled, as a thin iron chain suddenly warped itself across his throat.

While Eekoi had been distracted by the elf, another thug, this time wielding a chain, had snuck close enough to get a clear shot at his neck. Eekoi was violently pulled to the ground. The thugs cheered, as they brought down the first of their victims.

Brom swung wild at the two thugs in front of him, trying to push them back so he could help Eekoi who laid on the ground beside him, gasping for air as he was being strangled while pulled towards the ring of thugs. Just as Brom had gotten some distance from his two foes and turned towards Eekoi, he saw a flash of greyish green out of his right eye, just barely raising his shield in time. The orc’s iron bar struck Brom’s shield with such force that he was pushed back into the Ursong and his arm was left numb; cracks had also appeared on the shield.

Why were you hiding, coward? Brom taunted the orc, trying to get his attention before he brought that iron bar down on Oliver. It worked. The orc who had previously had a smug grin on his face now looked at Brom, furious.

You no call Grok a coward! the orc yelled. I no hide, I wait as nice lady says, and now I squash you! the orc continued, as he charged Brom.

While the orc was hammering away at Brom’s shield, Dons’ frustration with