Table of Contents - Introduction - Ch. 1 - Ch. 2 - Ch. 3 - Ch. 4
Chapter I: The Prophet and the Barbarian
A small child scurried out of the way as he crossed under the gate. A muscular guard shot him a puzzled look then nodded. An elf pranced over with a scroll in one hand and a quill in the other.
The Elf glanced over the massive Half-Orc, then asked, Your name, good sir?
What's it to you, pal?
He spat with an angry stare.
The Elf pursed his lips and said, I'm sorry, but the King has declared that we get the name of every man, woman, and child who passes through this gate for the next fortnight.
Shit, he thought. That damned prophet-- the king's adviser-- what a coward.
Your name, sir?
The Half-Orc glared at the Elf and said, Ukhin. Would ya like to get acquainted with mah' axe?
Er, no... that won't be necessary.
Anger swelled in his chest as he looked up at the castle. That cowardly prophet was probably drinking wine and enjoying his last few hours, unaware of the breech in security.
Ukhin looked down at the ring on his finger. It must be working, he thought. Security's tighter than ever, but if they were aware of his presence he would not have gotten this far.
A short distance away, a small crowd gathered around the gates to the keep. As Ukhin approached the crowd, he could overhear some of their conversations.
Are ya' pullin' our leg, Huck?
a woman asked a stout old man.
No, I saw 'im with my own eyes! Kobra Friellze is here, in the flesh!
the man replied.M
I think ya've gone and lost all your sense. What business does a god have here?
asked another man.
So that's it, thought Ukhin. Kobra Friellze, the god of magic and legendary battlemage. Security's tight because there's a god visiting... which means that they were blissfully unaware of the Half-Orc.
Ukhin grinned as he walked away directly towards the gate, pushing onlookers aside. An official-looking soldier eyed him suspiciously as he gripped the handle of his battleaxe.
The adviser shook his head in disapproval as the man finished speaking.
You're kidding, right? Pull our support from the church?
the King spat.
Do you question my wisdom?
My people depend on the church for moral support-- the sick depend on the God's blessing for healing. Even if I could pull my support, the people would revolt.
the King said, shaken.
The adviser spoke up. Lord Kobra, if I may: I understand that you gods have-
Before you finish that sentence: Understand that I'm no god. And neither is the the monstrosity that has brainwashed your people.
The prophet replied, Brainwashed? Our High Priest has resurrected the dead before our eyes!
And turned them into his undead minions.
Kobra's eyes glimmered at that instant. If you continue to allow your armies to support the church, you will find yourself in a conflict from which you cannot survive. Ask your adviser... he can see the future, can he not?
Kobra turned and walked away from the throne. As he approached the door, it slammed shut and a large soldier brandished his sword.
My apologies, but I cannot let you leave until my Liege has dismissed you.
Kobra looked upon the burly man with a sense of pity, and spoke.
How very sad for you.
The guard swung his sword down at the battlemage only to find the blade missing before it could make contact with his robes. Fear overwhelmed him as Kobra had not perceivably moved.
Kobra closed his eyes and said, I am sorry for this.
The guard fell unconscious to the floor and Kobra opened the massive doorway with two fingers.
A group of guards stood on the other side, armor quaking.
H-head captain! T-The head captain is...
Kobra stepped forward. I spared his life; he was just acting on orders, after all. I suggest you move.
Anger filled the indignant ruler as Kobra stepped out of the throne room.
Damn him! What should we do?
The prophet stood with his eyes closed for a moment, then spoke.
Sadly, I think he may be telling the truth. The future is unclear, but it appears that his words may have some truth to them.
Dammit all! I just know this does not bode well for us.
the king said before dismissing his adviser.
Ukhin ran right towards Kobra with his axe brandished, but Kobra paid him no notice. As Ukhin swung his axe towards the ground with a terrifying crash, Kobra merely jumped over him.
You'll have to excuse me, Barbarian. I do not have time to play with you. Why don't you fetch your prey before he escapes?
How do you know about that? Are you... Kobra?
Kobra chuckled and walked down the hallway, avoiding the sprawled out corpses of the fallen guards, and disappeared out of the castle's entrance door.
Thanks to the ruckus created by Kobra, nobody noticed the sounds of battle in the hallway. Was it because they expected Kobra to slaughter anyone who attacked him, or was it because they were paralyzed with fear?
The prophet walked down the main hallway, hoping to catch up to Kobra to ask him a question when he caught sight of the Half-Orc.
Y-you! How did you get in here? T-This is impossible!
he yelled.
Ukhin showed him the ring on his hand, and said, You gotta hand it to them finger wigglers. They come up with some crafty shit.
A ring of masking? Impossible. You'd have to travel to the plane of chaos itself to get one!
Ukhin smirked. You're catching on, prophet. Now it's time for me to gut you like a pig!
The prophet activated his amulet and pulled the hood of his cloak over his head as the Half-Orc charged at him.
Not if I can-
The prophet's words were cut short as the barbarian's axe met his chest. He gasped and looked at the floor.
B-boots of-- ghk!-- speed?
were his last words before Ukhin cleft the man's head clean off his shoulders.
It is done, thought Ukhin. The prophet is dead.
An arrow whizzed past his ear. Ukhin looked up and saw more guards coming. Ukhin smiled and yelled, Bring it on!
but a voice in his head began to speak.
Ukhin! Once you have finished your mission, flee immediately. Do not engage in unnecessary fights. We will meet up with you as soon as we can.
Ah shit. She's right,
he said as he turned away and took advantage of his Boots of Speed to flee the scene.
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