Tina spun around to face the owner of the voice so bold as to question a pack of large, hungry wolves. What she was faced with was a man, about average height, dressed in weather-beaten cloths. He wore a heavy looking two-handed sword at his side, and had a gleam in his eye as he faced the pack.
    "And who are you to question our control of the Forrest of Gorox?" Snarled the lead wolf.
    The stranger smiled dangerously. "Earagorn."
    As soon as the name was out of Earagorn's mouth, the lead wolf flew into a wolf behind him. Chaos followed. Wolves were suddenly flung into the air like playthings, tossed into each other, and spun around. And Earagorn was grinning like a child at a circus.
    After about thirty seconds, the chaos stopped. "Had enough?" Asked Earagorn, still grinning. The lead wolf staggered to his feet, snarling, and sounded the retreat. The pack fled into the Forrest.
    "Thanks." Said Tina, somewhat shocked at what had just occurred.
    "No problem. Helping damsels in distress is what I live for." Said Earagorn, flashing a grin. Tina frowned.
    "'Damsel in distress'?" She asked, still frowning.
    "Yup. Would you rather be a child in distress?" Asked Earagorn, grin coming back. Tina's frown deepened, and her brow furrowed. Then Earagorn frowned. "Oh, come on. Lighten up! Say, maybe you can help me."
    "And why would I do something like that?"
    "Because I just saved your hide, that's why." The grin was back. Tina decided she hated that grin.
    "Fine. What do you need?" She said.
    "I'm looking for some one. Tall, doesn't talk much, carries around a bow and arrows-"
    "Arcon?"
    "That's him. You know where he is? Or, did he get lost again?"
    "Again?" Came a new voice, only one recognized by both Tina and Earagorn. And Arcon stepped out of the trees, follow by Captain Jalor.
    Earagorn glanced at Tina. "This doesn't count. You still owe me." Tina smirked.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


        For a few hours every day following the day of getting lost, Gradwin would come and sit beside Smiths bed- he was not allowed out of it, due to his ankle- and answer questions. Smith had a lot. And was thinking of more every day. Within a week, not only was he well enough to get out of bed and move around, but he was nearly an expert on everything Yith. He had the landscape almost memorized, he had a reasonably sized data bank on almost every race in Yith, and was learning more every day.
    Though Smith was well enough to leave Gradwin and the small underground den, he chose to stay, at least for a while. There was SO much Gradwin could- and would- teach him! And Smith wanted to learn as much as he could. He already knew much more then he did when he first came, and that wasn't all. But there were other reasons Smith wanted to stay a bit long, other then the lure of knowledge. He wanted to find out who that girl was he had seen. Though he was up and about quite often now, he didn't so much as catch a glimpse of her. But that only served to increase Smith curiosity.
    One day, Gradwin woke Smith at the crack of dawn, telling him he wanted to teach him something in the Forest. Smith, curious, complied.
    They walked for several, minutes, never stopping, through the Forest, until they came upon a small, roundish clearing, roughly the size of the sword ring at the fort. They entered, surrounded by the sounds of the Forest, with sunlight streaming down from above. Gradwin walked over to one side of the clearing and picked up a large, strait stick, and tossed it to Smith. He caught it in midair. It had been sanded smooth, all bark removed, and was roughly the length or a two handed broadsword, though not as heavy. Smith stared at the stick for a few moments, not comprehending the meaning of the stick, or what Gradwin wanted to teach. Only when Gradwin picked up sticks of his own did Smith get it. He started to laugh.
    Gradwin turned to face Smith. "What do you find so amusing, young one?" He asked, as gleam is his eyes.
    Smith managed to stop laughing long enough to answer. "You are... (chuckle)... are going to... (heh heh)... duel me?"
    Gradwin's face sobered, though his eyes disagreed. "Yes. Why is that funny to you?" He asked, his face bordering on insult.
    Smith stopped laughing and regained composure. "Sorry, Gradwin. It's just that... well... I held my own against some of the best sword fighters I've ever seen, and even beat one or two. So-"
    "So you think that I wouldn't offer a challenge." Gradwin finished. Smith nodded, looking a little sheepish. Gradwin nodded knowingly. "Well, I plan on duelling you anyway. So let's begin."
    Smith nodded, and the two combatants circled each other. Smith struck first, darting in with a high-to-low chop that would kill anyone with less the lighting fast reflexes. Gradwin didn't have that.
    He had better.
    Moving faster then a man of his age should have, Gradwin blocked Smith's attack and counter attacked with speed that would shame a striking cobra. Smith only barely managed to defend himself. The weeks of intense training under Captain Jalor paid off. But Gradwin wasn't done yet. Instead of locking with Smith, then drawling back for another strike, Gradwin bounced off Smith defence and spun around to the inside, striking Smith on the shoulder.
    "Ow!" Smith cried out in pain. He hadn't had time to react, and now his shoulder throbbed. Smith blinked at Gradwin. "How... how did you do that?"
    Gradwin chuckled. "Not as harmless as you first thought, eh? Wait until I get warmed up!" And with that, Gradwin struck again. And again. And yet again. For the rest of the day, Gradwin and Smith battled... or rather, Gradwin stuck Smith repeatedly with a stick, teaching him "the way of the sword". By that evening, Smith was covered from head to toe with bruises, and Gradwin had none.

Race: Norgin

Origanated: An small, unnamed island of the norther coast of Yith

History: The Norgins came from a small, unnamed island just three miles from the norther coast of Yith. One part of the human race, they became the dark, bloodthirsty Norgins when Kotu Adam, now ruler of The Kingdom of the East, came to the island looking for an army to call his own. He found the islanders, and through the Dark Arts, trasformed the peaceful people into the ruthless Norgins. However, Kotu Adam was still learning the Dark Arts at the time, and the Control spell he cast, to ensure his control over the new race, failed and instead turned the once-peaceful islanders against him. Unable to fix the deadly mistake, Kotu Adam fled the island and returned home, leaving the Norgins behind.
             But he had not seen the last of them. The Norgins began to multiply, incresing their numbers and inteligance. Upon out growing the island, the crafty Norgins tried their hands at boat making, and moved to Yith. They took control a small portion of land in the north, but never moved far from the seashore. To this day, they have made war with every other race on Yith, but are real thorns in the side of the eastern giant, The Kingdom of the East, or The Eastern Kingdom. But as of late, something happened between to two that caused all fighting to stop...

Apperance: Norgins are ugly creatures, with rough, almost scally skin. Their skin color is a blochy purple, ranging from dark, almost black purple to a grapeish color. They have two curled horns, one above each eye, and long, claw-like nails. Their hair is black, but though the men wear it strait and down to just below their sholders, the women wear it almost down to their wast and wavy. The men have a muscular build, with broad sholders. Men tend to wear what they call "battle rings" in their ears. It's a simple ranking sistem... the more battles you win, the more rings you get, the more control you have.

If there is more you want to know, comment, and I'll do my best to answer your question!

                                          Chapter Five

        
    Smith awoke sore. Really sore. His back hurt, his head hurt, and he couldn't remember where he was, or how he got there. He opened his eyes and tried to turn his head and look around, but was met with sharp protest from his left temple. He reached up to put a hand on his head, only to find it wrapped in bandages. Smith glanced around, taking in as much as he could without moving his head. He was in a dirt cave of some type, with dirt walls and a dirt ceiling.
    Smith was startled to find that he was not alone in the room... or rather, he was no longer alone. He was still trying to remember what had happened to him when his thoughts were interrupted by the sound of something wooden hitting the dirt floor.
    "Gradwin! He's awake!" Came a distinctively female voice. Smith managed to catch a glimpse of her hair. She was blond.
    Smith managed to turn his head enough to see the door. A old man entered. He had a long beard that was as white as snow, and thick, pointed eyebrows of the same color. He was bald on the top of his head, yet he had hair down to his lower back. He wore a simple grey rope, with a plain rope tied around his waist. And his eyes! They were crystal blue, and had a fatherly look to them. In his right hand he held a gnarled wooden staff, upon which he leaned heavily. There was no sign of the girl.
    "Well!" Was the first word said. The old man, whom Smith would latter learn was Gradwin, spoke with a voice that had a youthful ring to it, and yet carried the wisdom of one who has walked the earth long and learned all one human can. "Well!" He said again. He seemed pleased with the fact that Smith was up.
    Smith, who, as I said, was very sore, was in no mood for the repletion of one word. He wanted answers.
    "Who are you?"
    "Who am I?" The Gradwin chuckled. "That you will learn soon enough. Who are you?"
    "Sm-" Smith began, but stopped himself. Why should he know?
    Gradwin waited for a response, and when none came, he shrugged. "I will learn soon enough. Now I know you must be full of questions. And to be truthful, I cannot blame you. Ask away."
    Smith thought for a moment. "Where am I?"
    Gradwin chuckled. "You are in the the Forest of Gorox, at the foot of Mt. Floran."
    "Where's that?"
    "Where you are."
    This was not well received by Smith, but he moved on. "Where are my... traveling companions?"
    "Setting up camp, I would assume. I really don't know."
    Smith grunted. "Who are you?"
    "You asked that before."
    "And I didn't get an answer."
    "You will learn soon enough."
    Smith frowned at hearing the same response he got earlier. "What is this place? The whole land, I mean."
    "It is where you are, where you will be, and where you have been. It is Yith."
    Smith had come to the conclusion that Gradwin was not going to tell him something without confusing him at least a little. "'Where I have been'? What's that mean?"
    "You've been here before. Not here, as in in the Forest, but here, as in on Yith, and have been, as in before you were given the Book."
    "What??" Asked Smith, startled. He had been on Yith before? But Gradwin would speak no more on the subject.

    Let's look at what Smith's companions have been doing for the past hour.

    As I stated before, none of the group knew that they had lost Smith. And they didn't realize for about fifteen minutes. It was then that Tina, who was walking in front Smith, decided to break the uncomfortable silence of the forest with an uncomfortable question.

    "Say, Smith?" She asked, more then a bit hesitantly. "Back there, at the fort... what made you want to save me?" She waited for an answer.

    None came.

    "Smith?" She tried again. Still no answer. This time she stopped an turned around, as so to face Smith. He couldn't pretend not to hear her then.

    That is when she realized that he wasn't there.

    Tina spun around and saw that she, too, had been left behind. And in the dark, it was impossible to make out any kind of trail.

    "Arcon?" She called out, in a near panic. "Grandda?" She had began walking- no, running down the path she last saw them go down. "Grandda??" She called, though much louder this time.

    It was then that she found them. Ruins of an ancient fortress, almost twice the size of the one they had just fled. Covered in ivory, with walls that were probably only half the size they once were, yet imposing none the less. The gates had long since rotted, but the entry arch was still in place. Tina was about to see what the inside looked like when one of what looked like fallen stones near the gateway began to move. And it was then that she realized that those stones weren't stones at all... they were huge wolves. And they looked hungry.

    Combat training took over. In the time between heartbeats Tina had her sword out and had rolled to the side, dodging a large, pouncing wolf. She quickly attacked the somewhat dazed wolf, giving it numerous injuries along it's back and sides. Nothing that would kill it, but enough to cause it to stop attacking. She spun to face the other... twenty.

    Tina tensed when the largest of the pack stepped forward, snarling. But she lost her nerve when it talked.

    "What do you want here, stranger? Answer quickly... I am hungry." Said the lead wolf in a deep, rasping voice.

    For once, Tina was at a loss of words. "I... uh... I got lost, and, um, I was trying to find this, uh, this... hermit! Yeah, a hermit, who... lives... out here?" She stopped. The wolves weren't buying her story.

    "Really? And what were you doing in our woods in the first place? Hmm?" The wolves chuckled.

    "Your woods? What makes them yours?"

    Now let's shift back to Smith. The journey through the tunnels was event less, and no one spoke. Captain Jalor was busy trying to figure out who could have built such tunnels. Tina was more curious as to why Smith went out of his was to save her, Smith was contemplating how fortunate he was to be alive and silently saying thanks. And we will leave Arcon alone.
    After what felt like an eternity underground, the small group of survivors reached end of the tunnel at the foot of a huge mountain. Arcon was the first one out, followed by Smith, then Tina, and last, but not least, Captain Jalor.
    "Sky!!" Was the first word said, and it was said by Smith. No one seemed to pay him any mind.
    "Now what?" Was the first thing said that anyone took notice of, and it was said by Captain Jalor.
    "I will tell you that in a moment." Said Arcon. "But first," here he interrupted himself with a long, shrill whistle, "I need to call a friend. We will set up camp here until he arrives."
    "With what? We don't have anything but the cloths on our backs and the swords at our sides!" Exclaimed Tina. Arcon thought this over. Being an Elf, he was use to traveling rather light. But Tina did have a point... they had nothing. He looked around to get his bearings.
    "I know an old hermit who lives in the mountains. It is not far. We can loge there." Said Arcon, and started walking. Captain Jalor thought for a moment, then follow. Tina looked a bit shocked, but followed anyway. Smith was left with no choice.
    They walked into a dense forest where they would find the hermit, according to Arcon. Over fallen logs, through dense underbrush, and around huge boulders Arcon led them. Hour after hour they walked without stopping, and Smith was soon grateful for his intense training. Without it, he never would have made even this far.
    After around four hours of walking, it began to get dark. And since Smith and his companions were in a valley between mountains, it got dark very fast. Before long it was the darkest night Smith could ever remember seeing. And it wasn't even night yet.
    "Um... Arcon? I think its time we stop..." Said a rather worried Smith. As I said earlier, Smith was not fond of dark places.
    "No. Not until we reach our goal. It's not much farther." Responded Arcon. By now everyone was just barely visible, and Smith could no longer see where he was walking. That is why he tripped on a large tree root sticking up out of the ground.
    "Off! Ow!" Smith couldn't manage any more- he was in too much pain. You see, he didn't just trip... he twisted his ankle. And what worse was the fact that no one noticed.
    For a while Smith just sat there, holding his ankle and breathing hard. He knew calling out wouldn't do any good... and even if his friends did hear him, whatever roamed the forest would hear as well. After about half an hour, Smith began to feel drowsy. The only thing that keep Smith awake was fear of the forest... or rather, what was in it.

    Let me give you a quick summery of the battle thus far. If it wasn't for the archers, the battle would've been lost before it was started. However, in order to utilize the advantage of archers, one's army must have ether the higher ground, distance from one's opponent, of both. However, in this case, the defenders (who were called Dramins) had nether. They never had distance- the Norgins as good as appeared out of nowhere. And they had just lost the high ground, thus making the archers all but totally useless.
    Then there is the advantage of skill. That the Dramins had in plenty. But it takes more to win large battles then skill alone. Numbers help. And there, the Norgins had the advantage. It is safe to say that the Norgins were winning by weight of numbers alone.
    Oh, and the siege machines helped a little, too.
    Smith took all this in and couldn't help but wonder... why? Of all the targets to pick from, why this fort? It wasn't even a real fortress, for goodness sakes! This fort was for training troops. It didn't even hold any strategic value, if Smith read the maps right. So why attack it?
    Smith turned to flee inside the main keep when he was grabbed and pulled to the side. Smith struggled to free himself from his captor, and upon doing so, spun around to face his captor. He didn't believe who it was.
    "You!" Smith hissed. It was Arcon!
    "Quite! Come on, we're leaving. You're done here." Arcon hissed back, though without the anger.
    "Wait a minute! How? We're surround!" Smith said.
    "I know of a secret passage. How do you think I got in? Now let's go!" Arcon said, getting impatient.
    Smith brain was spinning. Who was this man? He suddenly appears out of nowhere the day Smith arrives, dropping him off in this medieval boot-camp, and then he pops up again and demands that Smith trust him? It didn't add up. But then, if Smith didn't like the idea of following Arcon, he liked the idea of being maimed even less.
    "Not without Tina and Captain Jalor." The words were out of Smith's mouth before he knew he was going to     say them. Then he wondered where they came from.
    Now, I've heard it said that the course history can change over the smallest decision. And I don't doubt that.
I mean, think about it. Just about thirty seconds ago- give or take- the course of history was on a one-way road to Smiths death. Then Arcon intervened. By doing so, he changed history. But the lives of Tina and Captain Jalor were still in danger. Smith changed that. By one decision. But that is just a little of the history Smith changed by his choice. By making that decision, Smith set in motion a plan laid out over a hundred thousand years ago. Of course, he didn't know that.
    Arcon thought about Smith's statement for half a second, then responded with one word... "Fine." And it was that one word that got first Tina, then Captain Jalor pulled aside and given the option to escape or stay. Tina went with escape... though she took some convincing. Captain Jalor was harder to convince, but he came along in the end. Arcon showed them to the tunnels, and none to soon. Moments after the secret door closes, Norgins overrun the fortress.
    Now, seeing that I am the writer, and you are the reader, I have the ability to show you however much or however little I please. And in order to keep you reading, I am going to show you something Smith will not see. Therefore, we must leave Smith and his friends for the moment, and move to a knoll not more then one hundred and fifty yards from the fort, upon witch two of the ugliest Norgins anyone could ever have the misfortune of laying eyes upon stood. The two were a lieutenant and a general, the commanding officers of this force. Now instead of writing in the Norgin tongue, which is a most despicable and foul language, and then translating, I will simply write in English. Here is what they were saying...

    "We've overrun the fort, sir. The only survivors were the young men who matched the description you gave us." Said the lieutenant in a squeaky voice interrupted by snorts and sniffs.
    "Good. I will inspect the prisoners." Said the general in a deep, gravely voice. His eyes never left the now-ruined fortress. "Tehlikeli, are you sure they killed everyone? We don't need survivors." The general, who's name was Aldatıcı, turned to face his lieutenant.
    "Of course! The annihilators have yet to fail where it comes to killing. No one who in that fortress is alive unless they matched your description of the-"
    "Don't say it!!"
    Tehlikeli was quite for a moment. Then he spoke again, saying, "Why do we need... him anyway? We don't even have a way of knowing if he was really here or not!"
    "Tehlikeli, I am going to ask you do do something very hard for you. I want you to stop a moment, and think. If the old stories are true... and I have no doubt in my mind that they are... then his coming means the end of everything we know. Peace would reign." He spat out the word peace as though it was a despicable word. Tehlikeli nodded his head in understanding.
    "So what makes you think he was here?"
    A pause. "A hunch."

    As Tina and Smith ran for the western wall, Smith tried desperately to remember everything he had ever been taught about sword fighting. He really knew all the fundamentals quite well, but he couldn't think of them in his panic. In fact, he could think of very little in his panic... except the army he was about to face.
    As they neared the western wall, Smith heard the sound of many feet marching in unison not far away. And his anxiety grew with every step he took. There was no thrill of battle, not for Smith. Just fear. And for Tina, it looked as though there was just hate. Smoldering, raging hate. What she hated, Smith didn't know. He just hoped he wouldn't be anywhere near her when she blew it, which he was sure she would.
    Smith and Tina reached the wall and took the stairs two at a time. Smith could already hear the roar of the attacking forces from the other side of the wall. He heard a shout and someone call, "Shields up!!" from the top of the wall, and an instant later arrows fell from the sky as thick as snow in a blizzard. Smith, who didn't have a shield, quickly jumped down from his perch on the stairwell and ducked under the roof of a empty stall. Their he waited for the arrows to stop falling.
    Why must I go the the top of the wall? Smith thought to himself. I'm of no use unless they scale the walls, and they probably don't have the means to do so. This is probably just an over-confident raiding party of some sort. Smith found some comfort in these thoughts. Perhaps he wouldn't need to fight after all.
    Wishful thinking.
    No sooner had he finished thinking these thoughts then he heard a cry from the top of the wall. A moment later a soldier fell from the wall, a horrible wound in his side. There were shouts of battle from the top of the wall, and Smith saw his first Norgin. It, too, fell from the wall, but it had no wound in its side... or any where, for that matter.
    It was human-looking in build, but its skin was rough, almost scaly. It's color was a blotchy purple, with crimson streaks across the face. Smith thought it to be blood at first, but he later learned that it was war paint. Norgins bleed purple.
    Smith also thought that it had claws, but this proved to the wrong as well. But do not blame him for thinking so, for Norgins do not trim their nail, as we do. Thus, their nails grow to look like claws.
    The last thing I would like to mention before I return to Smith is this- a highly defining feature the Norgins have are horn that grow out of their heads, almost directly above each eye. These horns grow to be one and a half feet long, and they curl, like a ram's horn.
    Now, back to Smith. As it was, this Norgin was not dead. Rather, he was very much alive- much to Smith horror. Within a few moments after hitting the ground, the Norgin was on its feet again. And it wasn't very happy. In fact, it was livid. It howled in rage and searched for an opponent to take its anger out on. And guess who it found?
    Yes, it found Smith. It let out another blood curling scream charged Smith, battle-ax held high. Smith froze... or, at least he thought he froze. His brain stopped working, and instinct took over. To this day, Smith doesn't remember what he did. He just know he survived, and the Norgin didn't. He also knows that his sword had purple blood on it.
    That wasn't all that happened then. Smith also lost his fear. Or his sense. Take your pick.
    Anyway, Smith charged up the stairs, cutting down every Norgin in his path. By the time he reached the top, he had already killed five Norgins, and wounded six others. I'm getting the hang of this battle thing. Smith thought, though the the thought was far from prideful. It really bordered on shameful.
    Upon reaching the top, Smith did a quick survey of the battle for the wall. It was clear that the defending forces were holding their own, but for how much longer it couldn't be certain. Smith scanned for Tina. He located her on his right, hacking away at every Norgin within arms length with twin, curved blades that looked strangely familiar to Smith, but he couldn't remember why.
    It was then that Smith realized that the Norgins were the source of all of the hate and rage the had been brewing in Tina since the start of the battle. Why, he didn't know. He'd ask her later- provided they survived the attack.
    Smith fought his way towards Tina, finding a place at her side. It was then Smith got his first glimpse at the sea of Norgins at the bottom of the wall. There must be at least 2,000 Norgins down there! What in the world do they want??
    "Tina! There are too many! We need to find a way to escape!" Smith yelled at Tina over the roar of battle.
    "What?!? And leave the battle?? Only a coward would do that!" Tina shouted back.
    "Unless that 'coward' realized when there was a hope of winning and when fighting on meant certain death!" Smith shouted back, more then a little angry with her. He read between the lines of her last remark. She thought him a coward.    
    Tina thought about this while fending off three Norgins at once. She finished off the three, pushed a latter covered in Norgins off the wall, then glanced around. The defenders were losing ground. At the current rate, the defence of this wall wouldn't last much longer. For every one Norgin that was killed, three took it's place and the defenders lost one man. And there were more below. Finally, she made up her mind.
    As she turned to tell Smith what she had decided, a horn sounded. Captain Talisan sounded the retreat to the inner walls.

The last part of this chapter. Enjoy!



    Smith was floored. This girl... the captain's granddaughter?!? Sure, they acted the same... for the most part... but they looked nothing alike! The captain's face was full of sharp edges, and looked as though it was chiseled out of stone, whereas Tina's face was soft, looking more like a princess then the granddaughter of the toughest man Smith had ever known!
    Tina's smile faded, as if she had just realised she had done something horrible, but she could do nothing about it. Smith was the only one to notice.
    "Well, Phillips. Let's get going! You have a long afternoon ahead of you." Said the captain.
    But Captain Jalor had just barely finished when a war horn sounded in the distance. Captain Jalor Went tense all over, and seemed to be waiting for something. In fact, the whole courtyard went suddenly silent. After a few moments, another horn sounded, but this one sounded different. It sounded deeper, and came in three short blast, in stead of one long blast. At that second blast, the courtyard went from dead quiet to a beehive of activity, the nature of which Smith didn't understand.
    Tina was the first to notice Smiths confusion.
    "Come here! You must come with me!" She shouted at Smith.
    Smith didn't like the idea of being with her... at all... but he liked the look on her face even less. It was one of fear. And Smith didn't take Tina as the type that scared easily. He hurried to catch up.
    "What's wrong? What's going on?" Smith asked when he was close enough.
    "Norgins! They're attacking!" She responded without looking back.
    That created more questions then answers for Smith. "What's so bad about Norgins? And what are they?"
    Tina turned, and Smith saw true fear in her face. "Norgins are the most ruthless race of living things one could ever have the misfortune on encountering, save dragons. They are savage, brutal, and as good as made for battle. It's said they never leave survivors, if it is possible. They are animals." She stopped, and fear was replaced with fury. "I doubt we'll survive. If they breach the walls, we won't. But I will not die until I have kill one hundred Norgins!!"
    Tina's words filled Smith with fear. But now he was more afraid of her then the attacking forces outside the walls.
    As Tina and Smith hurried along, they bummed into Captain Jalor.
    "And just where to you two think you're going??" Boomed the captain.
    "I was taking Phillips here to the center keep." Said Tina."
    The captain didn't like what he heard. "Oh, no you don't! He is going to the walls! This castle was built to train young people how to fight! They don't run away when a battle comes!!" Roared the captain.
    Smith swallowed nervously. Yeah, he had gone through lots of training, and yes, he had enough skill with a sword to at least hold his own against most any other knight in the castle, but Tina's description of Norgins unnerved Smith. And he couldn't stomach fights at all, much less be in one. Now he was supposed to go to the front lines and do battle with blood-thirsty savages? He didn't think he had it in him.
    "Why are you still standing there?? Off to the west wall with you!!" The captains shouts pulled Smith out of his thoughts. "Tina, you go with him. See if you can keep him out of trouble." Tina liked that order about as much as Smith did... that is to say, they didn't. Smith suddenly wished he was going to the east wall instead, even if that was where the Norgins were coming from. Smith had developed a strong dislike for this girl rather fast, and it showed no signs of going anywhere anytime soon.
    "Well? GET MOVING!!!" Captain Jalor shouted, making both Tina and Smith jump. When their feet hit the floor, they were off, running as fast as they could.

Name: Jalor Trigor Lekswore

 

Age: 79

 

Gender: Male

 

Height: 6'6"

Eyes: Hazel

 

Race: Human

 

Overall Appearance: With his broad shoulders, fierce stare and booming voice, Captain Jalor is NOT someone to trifle with. Is his gleaming suit of armor... which looked like it could come from Gondor, though it has its differences... he looks more like a king then a captain. He has golden, wavy hair that falls to his shoulders and has not grayed with age, a face that looks as though it was carved from stone, and the most warm smile you can imagine. He embodies courage.

 

Personality: Dispite his frightening apperance, Captain Jalor is one of the kindest men you could meet... when he want's to be. But usaly he's a raging ball of energy, frightening his men, but scaring his enemys even more.

Bio: Haven't thought of one yet... more later!

    The days following Smith's "drop off" were pure torture as far as he was concerned. The captain- who's name was Jalor, Smith found out- watched Smith every second of the day, save the noon brake and after dark. The training was rigorous and stretched Smith to his physical limits. His days looked like this- Captain Jalor would wake Smith at dawn, and a quick meal would be served. After breakfast, the captain handed Smith over to a tall, silent man who would put Smith through some of the hardest stretches Smith ever had to preform. Immediately after that, Smith was put through "endurance training", as the captain called it. Smith called it pain. First he would several laps around the training courtyard till he thought his leg would fall off. Then came wrestling, taught by a huge brute who believed that by using every move he taught Smith on Smith, he would learn how they work. That plan didn't work. Smith was usually in too much pain to take notes on anything!
    Sword fighting came next, taught by Captain Jalor himself. They would duel furiously until Smith thought his arms would fall off. At high noon, Smith received a brief brake, and the midday meal would then be served. After half an hour, Smith would finish sword practice, which took until roughly two. Then came archery, followed by javelin throwing. By the time that was finished, the sun was nearly beyond the horizon. The evening meal was then eaten.
    Now, you'd think that after a day like that, Smith would now get some well earned rest. Think again! As soon as the evening meal was finished, Smith began his chores. They involved cleaning his armor, polishing his sword, helping the stable boys, and whatever else Captain Jalor thought up for Smith to do. By the time Smiths head hit the pillow of his bed each night, he was already asleep.
    After the third day of training, Smith noticed a rather attractive girl had began watching him from time to time. Not always, and with no pattern that Smith could see, and never for very long, but she was still there. Then he started seeing her in the dining hall, where all meals were eaten. In fact, over the course of the next three days, Smith spotted her more and more, until she seen almost as consistently as the captain, though for much shorter periods of time. She would be there one minute, then be gone the next.
    One day, during the noon brake, Smith caught a glance of his mystery watcher heading out of the dining hall. He had finished his meal and had half an hour before Captain Jalor called on him again, so he followed her. He managed to catch up, but couldn't get her attention. He didn't want to lose her... and the opportunity to talk... so he shouted.
    "Hey! Uh, excuse me!" Smith called after the girl. She stopped abruptly and spun around. Smith almost crashed into her.
    "Yes? What do you want?" She said shortly.
    Smith had trouble collecting his thoughts. He hadn't the foggiest idea what he wanted to talk about exactly. And he had never seen her long enough to tell what she looked like, so when she turned about, he was completely unprepared!
    She had long, wavy, chocolate brown hair that fell unrestrained down her back and over her shoulders. She wore a sleeveless leather tunic over a long sleeved shirt of dark green. She wore matching leather trousers- almost skin tight, like her tunic, but not quite- and black leather boots. She had a very slim figure and a soft, oval shaped face and large, green eyes.
    "Well? Are you just going to stand there and stare at me all day?" She asked impatiently.
    "What's your name?" Smith finally said.
    "Tina Trikoro Lekswore."
    "Why have you been watching me? I see you often."
    "Why wouldn't I? Everyone wants to see how you fair. But very few think you'll make it all the way."
    Smith swallowed. She was as imposing as the captain, though she was not as threatening to look at, and that piece about what everyone thought didn't do Smith much good. He was out of ideas, and his half hour was probably almost up. He should head for the sword ring.
    It was then that he realized... he had no idea where he was. He had just followed her.
    "Um... one more question... you don't happen to know your way to the sword ring, do you?"
    Tina's face... which had stayed pretty much the same since Smith had stopped her... now showed signs of amusement. "What if I don't?" She asked. Smith clenched his teeth to restrain from comment. Her personality was much tougher then you'd think by looking, and Smith decided he didn't much care for her company. She finally smiled.
    "Yes. I know the way. And I'll show you how to get there... if you can keep up." Said Tina, her smile turning mischievous.
    "That shouldn't be too hard. I feel I could outrun a horse with all the running Captain Jalor's been making me do." Almost the moment he finished, she was gone, running swiftly and making hardly a sound. It was all Smith could do to keep up. He had spoken to soon.
    He managed to keep Tina in sight, but that was it. He had no chance what-so-ever of getting anywhere close to the swift, silent girl.
    When Smith finally rounded the last turn and found himself at the sword ring, he saw that Tina had beat him soundly. What's more, he was exhausted, and he still had half a day of training left before he was done. Tina was grinning broadly, and hadn't even broken sweat. In fact, she wasn't even breathing hard! Captain Jalor was barely containing a explosion of laughter. Smith saw this and let out a loud, tired sigh. This sent the captain over the edge, and his bellowing fit of laughter could be heard all throughout the courtyard.
    "Nice try. You managed to keep up... not half bad." Said Tina. Smith wasn't sure what to make of this comment... until she finished. "I'd say it was more like three fourths bad." She finished, grinning mischievously again. Smith groaned.
    By now Captain Jalor had recovered from his fit of laughter. "Well, recruit," he began, chuckling a little. "I see you've met my granddaughter."

    As Smith debated with himself, he walked through the small town. Other then the curious glances his clothing attracted, he received no attention from the town's people. He really had no idea as to what to do or where to go. He was starting to despair when a thought came to him. Find a tailor. He thought. He couldn't think of why he felt the sudden urge to find a tailor, so he thought up a reason. He wanted to blend in.
    By the time he finally found a tailor, it was dusk. The town was much larger then it had appeared from the sky! He walk in and looked around. It was a small shop. A short, pudgy man sat behind a low counter. Behind the man was a door, presumably leading into a back room where all the sewing was done.
    "Well, hello there, stranger. Welcome. Me name's Baverik. What can I do for ye?" Asked the man behind the counter.
    "I need a change of cloths. Nothing fancy, but enough for me to fit in." Replied Smith.
    The man called Baverik nodded. "I can do that. Let me get me measurement tape, and I'll take done yer size." And he did.
    Within a few moments he slipped into the back room, saying he would be right back with some clothing. No sooner did he disappear behind the door then some on else walked into the small shop. It was one of the two men from earlier, the one the short man called "Arcon".
    Arcon nodded his greetings, then sat in the floor with his back against the wall. "You know, I know this man." He said suddenly. "He won't take rocks for money, less they be gems. How do you plan to pay for you outfit?"
    Smith shifted uncomfortably. "I hadn't thought of that." He said.
    The man studied Smith carefully, then reached for his side. He produced a bag, from which he pulled out three gold coins. His gaze returned to Smith. "I'll pay your fee." He said at last.
    Smith wasn't sure what to do, so he just said thank you and called it done. "You are looking for lodging, I'd assume." Said Arcon at last.
    "The question had crossed my mind..." Smith began, wondering what Arcon wanted. Arcon said nothing, but merely nodded.
    "I know of a place you can find work, and a place to rest you head. And I could take you there if you like."
    So that's what he wants. Smith thought to himself. He must own a workhouse or something, and he wants me to work there. But then, what choice do I have? "Thank you, kind sir, I would be most interested in looking into this offer you extend."
    "We will leave as soon as you're clothing is done."

    Arcon led the way to the small fortress Smith had seen from the sky. THIS is a workhouse?!? What kind of man am I with?? Smith suddenly panicked. If he went in, he may never come out! But again the thought crossed his mind... what choice did he have?
    Smith hesitantly followed Arcon inside. A huge, intimidating man in gleaming armor came out to meet them.
    "Hold, thou pointy eared pilgrim! What have you there? Surly not the recruit you spoke when the sun was high!" Said the man in a deep, commanding voice that echoed across the courtyard.
    "Aye, this is him that I spoke of. Is he not what you were expecting?"
    "Nay! He is not what I was expecting at all! Though I should have known better then to trust you to bring some one who could withstand the trials!!"
    Arcon moved to the man's side and spoke quietly in his ear. At one point the mans eyebrows shot up, but he quickly regained his composer. Arcon stepped away and studied the man. The man studied Smith. After what seemed like an eternity, he slowly nodded.
    "Alright, then. I'll see to it that he is trained. In fact, I'll to more then that! I'll train the lad myself!!" Said the man within an inch of shouting. "Now off with you! Leave! Find your friend and be gone! Go off on another of you crazy adventures!" Finished the man, shouting this time.
    Arcon turned and headed for the gate. Smith followed. "HALT! WHERE DOES THOU THINK THY GOING?!?" Boomed the voice of the man. Smith jumped, started by the sudden onslaught of the voice. Arcon moved through the gate, which swung shut behind him. "WELL?? Turn about, you withering, worthless wimp! Face your captain!!" Smith swallowed, and did as he was told. He didn't think he was going to like it here.

    Two men approached Smith.
    "Hail, master skydiver! How feel you?" Called the shorter of the two.
    Smith wasn't sure how to answer. "Uh... fine?"
    The shorter man laughed. "Fine! Fine, says the young flier! And how, pray tell, did you wind up... up?" He laughed at his own joke.
    Smith wasn't sure how to respond, or what to make of these two men. They were both muscular... though the shorter man more so... and both wore a weather-beaten, hooded, dark green cloak. The taller man had his cloak thrown over his head, though not as so to hide his face. The tall man had his cloak draped around himself, but the shorter man wore it open, reveling clothing as weather-beaten as his cloak.
    "I do not recall." Smith lied. He didn't want to embarrass himself in front of these men by telling a story they would never believe.
    The short man grunted. "And who is your tailor? Never have I seen cloths such as yours, and I have traveled far and wide!"
    Smith glanced at his own clothing, than at the man's. "It's... standard, this type of clothing, were I come from."
    "And what realm is that, if you would be so kind?"
    Again, Smith was at a loss for words. He could think of no believable answer. He needed to think of something, though. He settled on a respectful answer that told nothing.
    "I do not know why that would interest you, sir. Other then clothing, my homeland is of little interest or importance." Said Smith smoothly. The faintest shadow of a smile crossed the taller man's face.
    The taller man finally spoke. "I believe you have inquired enough of our young friend. Come." He motioned for the shorter man.
    Smith was immensely relieved when the two men walked away. He wouldn't have been if he knew what they talked about...

    "What do you think, Arcon? Does he match the description? You know the old tales better then I." The shorter man asked his very tall friend.
    The man- though he was really an elf- paused for a moment. Yes, this strange boy did match the description of Tilek, master of Light, from the ancient tales. But he did not want to become hopeful. After so many years, he knew better then to jump into thing like this. But something pushed him forward. He closed his eyes and sent a quick prayer to the Great One asking for wisdom. Then he nodded at his friend.
    "I believe he is. But there is no way to know for sure. The only thing to do now is to make sure everything happens in correct time."
    "That means we make sure he is enlisted in the armed forces, right?"
    "Right."

    Smith began to feel uneasy as he walked into the town. Here he was, a stranger in a strange land, with no money, no food, and no place to sleep. He was starting to think their is more to adventuring then walking through a wardrobe and meeting a friendly fawn. Fantasy writers could stand to be more realistic, thought Smith. Not that they aren't good. He quickly added to himself. They just could make it a little harder on their questers.

    Over a dinner of meatballs, peas and rolls Smith told his story. The dining room became very quiet.
    "So let me get this strait," said Smith's father, Mr. Phillips, "You were headed for the library. With a friend."
    "Yes."
    "You were taking a short-cut down some side-roads, and cut through an alley. That's when the stranger stops you."
    "Right."
    "The stranger is wearing a... a cloak, you say?"
    "Yeah, a black cloak with the hood down, so I couldn't see his face."
    "Okay. So the guy comes out of the shadows, says your name, and gives you the book."
    "Yes. Exactly."
    "Let me see the book."
    Smith got up from the table, went over to his backpack, retrieved the book, and returned to the table. He sat down, handing the book to his father. Mr. Phillips looked the book over carefully.
    "It appears to be an old volume. And this is real leather," said Mr. Phillips while running his hand over the coverŸ. He opened the books to view the contents and found... a blank page.
    "Is this some sort of joke, son? There's nothing here!" Smith didn't want to believe his ears, and his mouth stopped working. If it was empty, why all the fuss? Why would that man make such a big deal over it? He wouldn't... unless... it was a prank.
    That had to be the answer. Smith was just in the wrong place at the wrong time, and was rewarded by becoming the butt-end of this not-so-funny joke. It made sense, but then, how did the guy know his name? Now it didn't make sense.
    "Can I look?" Smith asked. Mr. Phillips handed Smith the book. He opened it slowly. What he saw shocked him.
    "What do you mean, there's nothing here? There's a LOT here!" Smith exclaimed.
    Mr. Phillips frowned at his son. "That's far enough, Smith. You think I can't see or something? I already checked that book, and it's empty. Now I don't want to hear any more about this, understood?"
    "Yes, sir." Smith said. He was so mad, he could've growled a growl that would scare a tiger.

    Later that night, Smith let his anger out on his pillow. "They never believe me!" he would snarl while giving his pillow a good punch. "They don't trust me!" Another punch. "They don't get it!" Again, he punched.
    After he had let all his anger out, he collapsed onto his bed. Thoughts ran around in his head like scared rabbits with nowhere to go. Why don't they believe me? Why can't the understand? And slowly, as his thought ran around, he began to drift off...
   
    Smith awoke with a start. A strange light danced around in his room. He looked at his clock. 1:06 AM. Way to early for sunlight, of anything else he could thing of. He scanned his room for the lights source, so he could cut it off and return to sleep.
    When he found the light source, he gave a start. For the light was coming from the mystery book. Or more specifically, from the words in the book.
    Smith bent over and picked the book up. The letters seemed to dance and waver on the page, like a candle's flame in a light breeze. Smith was entranced.
    Smith flipped back to the first page, where he recalled seeing a map. He didn't know why, but he felt like he needed to look at it. It looked just as alive as the strange writing. It seemed to call out to him. He felt the urge to touch the map, see what kind of feeling it had. So he did.
    The moment his fingers touched the map, the world around him faded away. The book quickly became brighter, and Smith became aware of wind rushing past his ears. He could no longer feel his bed under him, nor the book on his lap. The map grew steadily larger, to the point where Smith seemed to be suspended hundreds, maybe even thousands of feet over a map the size of the state of Texas.
    It was at that moment in time when Smith noticed that nothing was holding him in the air, the wind around his ears was getting stronger, and the map no longer looked like a map, but rather a landscape. And it was after he had figured that out that Smith came to this conclusions... he was falling from the sky. He screamed and started flailing his arms.
    It's just like in "The Wizard of Oz", just no house... and no dog... and I'm not a girl... funny what your mind thinks of when you're falling out of the sky towards certain death. He thought.

  "NOOOO!" Smith screamed, again throwing his arms up, this time for real. His eyes flew open and he sat bolt upright. It was just a dream! He thought, relieved. But it was SO real! I could almost feel the heat from the fires... He shook himself. It's alright, Smith. You just had a nightmare. That's it.
    Smith shoot a glance at his alarm clock just as it went off. His fingers quickly found their way to the snooze button, and from there they moved to the off switch. It was time to start another day. Oh joy.

    After a somewhat long argument with his mom on weather or not he should go to school, considering the events of yesterday, Smith finally was on the bus. A hand waved for him in the back. It was Amy.
    "Hey! Didn't expect you to show up today, what with all that happened yesterday. In fact, no one did." Smith merely grunted and stared at the seat in front of him. Amy frowned, but said no more.
    
    After a long and uneventful school day- by "uneventful, I mean no more weird eyes, principal encounters, or staring greeters- Smith stood waiting for his mother when an idea struck him. He pulled out his cell.
    "Hey, mom... No, nothings wrong. I just wondered if I could go to the library and study for a while... Yeah, I know where it is... No thanks, I'd like to walk. It's a nice day out... What? Why would you call dad? You know what he would say!... What's that?... I wouldn't stay later then 4:30... Yes, ma'am. I love you too... Bye."
    "What's up?" Came the already familiar voice of Amy from behind Smith.
    "Just going to the library." He answered. Then, wanting to sound polite, added, "Would you like to join me? After all, we take the same history class."
    Amy brightened instantly. "Sure! But let's not take the main road. I know a short-cut."
    Amy led Smith down a hardly used side road, than turned abruptly into a dark alley. Smith shuddered. He hated dark places, unless he was going to sleep in them. And he obviously wasn't going to sleep here.
    The alley stank of trash bins, crammed to overflowing with all sorts of foul things. Due to the position of the sun, the alley was half dark, half light. It was rather hard to see into the dark side, for nothing but shadows could be made out. That is why the crouched stranger went unnoticed by the teens until he stood in their way.
    As soon as the figure stepped into the light both teens froze. Smith was gripped with fear. Amy was tense, but waited to see what the stranger would do before taking action.
    The stranger stood at 6'11", with broad shoulders and a athletic build, he somewhat resembled a football player. He wore a nothing but black clothing- a black shirt that looked like a medieval tunic, black pants that looked like medieval breaches, and black leather boots, again medieval looking. The only part of his body that showed were his hands. His body was draped in a black, weather-beaten, hooded cloak with the hood pulled low, as if trying to hide his face. And it did just that. The only part of his face that was showing were his eyes. Marvelous, bright eyes that held mystery and told tales of one who has seen it all. What was most amazing was their color- deep purple.
    For a long time no one spoke, moved, or even breathed. Time itself seemed to stop in anticipation. The cloaked stranger did nothing but studied Smith with piercing eyes.
    Finally, the cloaked man spoke.
    "Smith Phillips." Was all he said.
    "Yes-s-s?" Smith said, stuttering.
    Without a word the stranger reached under his cloak and pulled out a large, leather-bound book. "I believe this belongs to you."
    "You... you do?" Smith asked, having trouble believing what he was hearing.
    "Yes. Let no one else have it, Never lone it out. Never let it out of your house. And don't lose it! This book could mean the difference between life and death for not only you, but over a million people!" Smith's eyes got big.
    Amy said nothing while all this was going on. She just studied the cloaked man, feeling as if she knew him, but she couldn't recall why, or from where. Then her face brightened, but just for a moment. She quickly contained herself.
    The stranger glanced her way, but betrayed nothing. Then, just as suddenly as he came, the stranger disappeared.
    For a long time nether teen moved, each thinking over the event that had just occurred. Smith seemed unable to do anything but stare at the book. Amy was the first to recover.
    "Still want to go to the library?" She asked, breaking the silence.
    It took Smith a moment to respond. "...Sure..." He said slowly. He seemed in a daze.
    Smith stuffed the book in his backpack and sighed. "Lead the way."

This is my first bio. Hopefully I will make more as this story continues.

Name: Smith Phillips

 

Age: 15

 

Gender: Male

 

Height: 6'2"

 

Eyes: Light blue

 

Race: Human

 

Overall Appearance: The first thing people tend to notice first is his flashing eyes... then his soft, wavy, chocolate brown hair. His face looks somewhat like a rectangle, only slightly broader at the top then it is at the bottom. Weighs about 145lbs. and has rather long legs. He has very little body hair on his tan skin.

 

Personality: Smith is very friendly and fun to be around. He hates injustice, but rarely has the guts to stand up to it. He is very determended, and will not give up on a task that he sets his mind to. He doesn't thing of himself as brave, but will shine like the sun if forced.

 

Bio: Smith grew up in Wyoming, but was forced to move because of his fathers job. Having spent his whole life in a loving and protective home, it takes him a while to get used to the life of a hero. He always dreamed of adventure, because nothing really ever happened to him in his life before he got the book, but wished adventure would go away when he finally got it!

    Smith looked around. He was standing on a tall balcony overlooking a sea of warriors. To both his left and his right were dark, forbidding mountains. And standing next too him was a tall man in a dark, spiny suit of armor.
    Smith stared at the tall man next to him. His dark eyes scanned the sea of warriors before them. His  black cloak flapped in the cold breeze. Smith shivered, then pulled his cloak tighter around him. The man glanced up, and Smith followed his gaze. Two dragons flew above them, along with at least one hundred evil griffins, many with Death Riders mounted on them.
    Smith glanced at the man again. His eyes seemed to glow with anticipation. Smith felt the need to say something, but the man seemed to be lost in thought, and Smith didn't want to interrupt. And it was a good thing to, though, at the moment, Smith didn't know it.
    "My lord, all troops are ready to move out and the minotaurs have arrived. We await only your orders." Said a man joining them on the balcony.
    "If it is only my order you await, you must not hear very well. I seem to recall saying to you, 'As soon as the troops are ready and the minotaurs arrive, move out'. Is that not what I said?" The tall man said, never taking his eyes of the army in front of him. His voice held just a hint of threat.
    The other man became nervous. "I recall no such orders, my lord. Are you sure you were talking to me when you said that?" He asked.
    The tall man turned around slowly. "Am I sure I said that to you?" He echoed, with a perfect calm. "Am I sure?" He said again, now staring at the other man full in the face with icy blue eyes. The other man turned pale.
    Then, with the speed of a striking cobra, the tall mans armored hand flew out and grabbed the other man's throat, then preceded to lift him off the ground by his throat. He picked the man up as if he weighed no more that a rag doll. He carried the man the the edge of the balcony and held him over it.
    "What I am sure of, dear sir, is the fact that I have no need of men who cannot hear simple orders." The tall man paused. "It's such a pity, too. You had potential. Such a shame it all must to go to waste." With that he dropped the man over the edge. His last scream echoed in the surrounding mountains.
    The tall man glanced at Smith. "I should do that to you, after all the trouble you've caused me. But you'll live long enough to watch your city burn to the ground and your people destroyed." He smiled cruelly. "Oh yes. You'll live to see that." With that he laughed a laugh as cold as death itself.
  
     The scene changed. Now Smith was standing in the burning ruins of a once great city. The ground was littered with the remains of a great battle. Minotaurs, goblins, elves, men, dwarfs, and Norgins all littered the field. Arrows were every where, and wreaked catapults stood every two hundred yards or so.
    Smith felt a deep sadness. He almost left, but he saw something. A familiar looking curved sword sticking out of a dead Norgin.  He jogged over to investigate. What he saw next sent him to his knees.
    A girl lie there, not far from the Norgin. She was in full battle gear, and was surrounded by many a dead foe, but an arrow in her back finally felled her. She couldn't have been any older then Smith. Smith wasn't sure who she was, but he felt sure she was important to him. He wept.
    Smith heard someone coming up behind him. He glanced over his shoulder to see who was coming. It was the tall man from the balcony. He was smiling ghoulishly.
    "See? What did I tell you? Didn't I warn you? I did, but you wouldn't hear it. And looked what happened. Because of your stubbornness, your betrothed is dead. Dead."
    Whoa! Wait a minute! Betrothed??!! Thought Smith wildly. The tall man continued talking.
    "Your city is ruined. Ruined. And you have lost everything that you once held dear. EVERYTHING. And it's all your fault." The tall man said. His smile faded away. "When I say everything, I do mean everything." The tall man drew a long, black blade with a very elaborate hilt.
    Smith guessed what he was about to do. He closed his eyes and threw his arms up in a vain attempt to ward off the oncoming attack. The blade moved closer... and closer.

  "Calm down, Evan. We all know how this works." Said the principal. He handed the note to Evan. "Not to smart of you to sign your name."
    Evan scanned the note. "I know. But I didn't write that note. I didn't get those answers. And I've never seen this kid in my life!" Exclaimed Evan.
    "If not you, then who, might I ask?" Inquired Mr. Kruts.
    "I told you. Derick. He's always pinning things like this on me. And who else would try to double target me with a new kid?"
    Mr. Henderson pondered this for a moment, then nodded. "All right." He keyed the intercom. "Would one Derick Bree please come to my office? Thank you."
    Derick ambled in a moment later. "What's up, doc?" He asked casual. He eyed Smith and Evan. "What, need me to testify against them?"
    "We were just wondering if you knew who wrote this note." The principal handed the note to Derick.
    Derick looked over the note. "What makes you think I'm involved? I know you weren't 'just wondering who wrote the note'. It has a name on the bottom."
    "That is exactly why I think you're involved. Jugging by your record, you seem to have a knack for things like this. And Evan has never seen this boy before. I know this. I checked their daily planers. Their paths never cross."
    Derick started to sweat. He got fidgety. "So? You don't have any evidence to connect me with this note!"
    "Except your record." Pointed out Evan. Derick fumed.
    "Derick, I'm going to try and make this easy for you. You can come on and tell us all the truth, and I'll take it easy on you. However, if you do not comply, I will be forced to take steps." The principal starred hard at Derick. Derick was obviously nervous. What's keeping him? Smith thought to himself. Then he saw Derick glance in their direction.
    So that's it. He doesn't want to come clean with an audience. He won't say anything as long as we're here. That made sense, he supposed. He would actually comply, if the principal would let him. He wanted out.
    The principal looked startled for a moment, then his gaze snapped to Smith. What did I do? Smith thought to himself. Why is he staring at me so? Did I do something wrong?
    "Principal Henderson? Would you mind focusing? Your mind seems to have gone adrift." Piped up Mr. Kruts when the staring continued for more then one minuet.
    "Hmm? Oh, yes, of course. My apology's. I didn't mean for that to happen. My mind isn't what it used to be, and I sometimes lose focus. Now, where were we?" Here he paused for a moment, then snapped his fingers. "That's right. Now I remember. So, Derick, are you going to come clean or will I need to lock you away for a while?"
    Derick was clearly nervous, but he still said nothing. Principal Henderson sighed. "I had hoped it wouldn't be this way. I'm afraid I'll have to put you all in detention for the remainder of the day."
   Smith was upset. "What?? Why?"
    "Because I have no evidence to clear you. It's your word against his, and I can't make a decision based on that. There's simply not enough evidence to let you go. Sorry."
    Smith fought down disappointment. Not that he minded missing some school. That was fine with him. What he was worried about was his parents. Getting a bit of detention on the first day of school would not look good. And he had wanted to look good. And he would've, too, if not for this. But, as his father always said, "There are things in life you just can't control, so it's better to role with them".


                                                    Later, after school...

    Smith stood on the sidewalk and waited for him mother to pick him up. She was late. It wasn't unusual for her to be late, but it wasn't something Smith ever got used to. But for once, he didn't mind. He was using the time to  think.
    I don't think I've ever had such a weird day. Smith thought to himself. First there was that greeting lady who wouldn't stop staring at me. Then Mr. Kruts and his eyes. I say, I've have a teacher so out to get me. Then Principal Henderson. But his stare was... different somehow. I don't know. Maybe I'm just over reacting.
    "I think so. Krut's is crazy, that much I know." Said a distinctly female voice behind Smith, interrupting his thoughts. He glanced over his shoulder to she who was talking.
    A girl stood not far behind Smith with a pink backpack slung over her shoulder. She looked a little younger then him, though not by much. She wore a sky blue "Hello Kitty!" and form fitting pants.
    "Hello! My name's Amy. I saw you in the hall earlier today, and thought you looked familiar to me. Have we met before somewhere?" Said the girl, who Smith now knew as Amy.
    "No, I do not believe I have ever seen you." Answered Smith, doing his best not to let the emotions in his head influence his voice.
    Amy paused, frowned thoughtfully for a moment, then smiled again and said, "Well, we've met now, and you look like you could use a friend. What's your name?"
    "Smith... it's nice to meet you Amy." Said Smith. That last part was out of politeness. However, Smith was very good at masking his true feelings to the outside world. The fact that he could care less about her offer of friendship did not slip out.
    "Smith. I like that name. Well-met, Smith." She smiled broadly.
    Well...met? Who says that? Smith was starting to think that this Amy was a little weird.
    Then it struck him. A sudden queasiness, as though he had a huge, ugly monster in front of him instead of a girl. Then he began to feel a little faint. The world around him started swimming. He was only barely aware of the concerned look on Amy's face. His mind was suddenly full of thoughts, all of them about getting away from the spot where he was standing. Run. Hide. Cower. Fear paralyzed his legs, but what he was afraid of he had no idea. Terror coursed thou his veins and took over his mind.
    Then he fainted.
    Amy barely caught Smith before his head hit the sidewalk. She looked up for help, and saw that three nearby teens had already whipped out their cell's and started punching numbers in.
    Within moments after Smith had fainted an ambulance pulled up, loaded Smith up, and drove away. Moments later, Amy's mother pulled up. It was then Amy noticed what no one else did... a huge, bat-winged thing hovered above the school. However it didn't take long for someone to notice. A girl screamed and pointed at the thing. Chaos followed. People crying out. Parents shouting for their kids. And at lest one camera clicking.
    Amy jumped in her mother's car. "Mom, I think we should go now, before it knows I'm here."
    "Good idea." Responded Amy's mother instantly. They were off.


                                                        ~~~~~~~

     
    "What do you mean, he already left??" Asked Amy, nearly shouting.
    "Please! Young lady, I must ask you do control your voice, or I will ask you to leave." Said the doctor Amy and her mother were talking to. He took a deep breath. "Now, it is just like I said. We checked all of the boys vital signs for something wrong, but there was no problem to be found. He just passed out. And as soon as we pulled up, he woke up and was fine. That's all there is to be said."
    Amy and her mother were speechless. He just passed out? There to be a reason. Amy had a suspicion, but she hoped she was wrong. If she was right, then... she didn't think about it.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

   
    Smith had never had a day as strange as the one he was having. After all, it isn't everyday someone reads your thoughts, or you're gripped with a terror so fierce you pass out, or your history teacher's eye's change into Saron's. Smith hoped the weirdness was over.
    Smith couldn't clear his head. After the fear had gone, his mind was clouded and muggy. He couldn't think strait. Nothing seemed to make sense to him, and everyone seemed so far away, and blurred, as if he was looking at them through a foggy window. Yet he could still hear them... faintly, but he could make out words. Sight, sound, smell, touch, it was all disoriented.
    And though the fear was at a much lesser degree then it was earlier, he couldn't help but check behind him periodically, to make sure nothing was stalking him. And at one point he thought he saw something... but it darted away before he could get a good idea of what it was.
    Smith skipped diner that night... everything that went to his stomach went sour... and went strait to bed.

    BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
    Smith groaned. The day had begun... unfortunately. As much as he would rather hit the snooze button, he knew if the alarm didn't get him up, his mother would. And she can be very... persuasive. He rolled over and hit the snooze, climbed out of bed and tried to get the sleep out of his eyes.
    Half awake he dressed himself and headed for the bathroom. Brush your teeth. Wash your face. Do your hair. Smith hit the morning routine on autopilot. He finally woke up when the smell of breakfast hit him. Cinnamon buns... coffee... bacon... and eggs! Smith thought to himself. A good breakfast... a good day was on the horizon, ever if it was going to be spent in a new school.
    Smith inwardly groaned again. He and his family had recently moved across the country. From Wyoming to Richmond, Virgina, was a long way. A long way from everything he had ever known. His friends. His town. His family. His life.
    Well, griping won't change the past, as his father always said. Time to put the past behind him.

                                                 Half an hour latter...

    Smith looked at the bus as his prison transport. And it really wasn't much better. It was crowded, and contained most of the school bully's. As he made his way to the back, feet, legs and book tried to trip him up. Smith make it to the back unscathed. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe it wasn't going to be such a good day. Maybe. Just maybe.

    "Good morning! Welcome to Richmond Public High-school! I'm Ms. Montgomery, and I welcome you on behalf of all the teachers here!"
    Smith eyed the lady addressing him. She looked in her late thirty's, and had a sing-song voice. Her smile seamed painted on, as though she didn't want to be where she was. Smith sighed. He could relate.
    After getting directions to the freshmen homeroom, Smith set off. He had an odd feeling... he glanced behind him. The greeter quickly turned her attention to a group of students who had just come in. She was watching me... why? He couldn't think up an explanation that fit.

    History was first. The teacher, Mr. Kruts, was an energetic man in his mid-forty's with piercing eyes, a beak like nose and a wiry build. He was completely bald, and wore a big pare of glass's. He scanned each student individually, making them feel like they were in a room with a walking metal detector.
    "Good morning class." He said, making no attempt to smile what-so-ever. No one moved.
    His eyes moved from one student to the next, as if he was trying to figure out who was going to give him the most trouble. His eyes came to rest on Smith.
    Then the most frightening thing happened. For just a moment, his eyes looked like Saron's eye, in Lord of the Rings. Smith gave a start.
    "What's wrong?" Asked the boy next to Smith.
    "Didn't you see? His eyes! They... they... changed!" The class burst out laughing. They apparently didn't see. And now Smith looked like a fool.
    Smith shifted into autopilot for a great deal of the day... until an unforeseen event required his attention.
    Smith was at his locker just before the last period when he found a note in wedged in his books. Smith opened the note just as Mr. Kruts was passing by. What fell out shocked Smith and caught Mr. Kruts attention.
    What came out was a typed note. It read,
                                            Smith,
                                Here are the upcoming history
                                test answers you wanted.
                                Mr. Kruts will probably use these
                                within the next few weeks.
                                                           Evan
    Smith was startled by the contents. So much so he didn't  see Mr. Kruts  reading over his shoulder.
    "So! Working with lowlifes to get good grades, eh, Mr. Philips? We'll see what Mr. Henderson has to say about that!" Said the history teacher. It was his first year too, so he was unaware that Smith had no idea who Evan was. Smith didn't know Mr. Henderson was ether, but he had a pretty good guess... the principal.
    Smith's guess proved correct. They arrived at the principals office a moment later.
    "First catch of the year, eh, Mr. Kruts?" That was the first thing the principal said as they walked into the office. Mr. Kruts looked like a rookie cop who caught his first crook.
    Mr. Kruts handed the note to the principal. "I caught the little cheater reading this." He said.
    The principal, for the first time, looked at Smith. Smith felt, in that gaze, something peculiar. The principal squinted at Smith, as though he felt he should remember him from somewhere, but couldn't recall where or why. Eventually his eyes moved to the note.
    "Smart of Evan, writing the note in type. Not-so-smart, however, to sign it." He thought over the whole thing for a moment, then pressed his intercom. "Would one Evan Backer come to my office please? Thank you." He signed off. Please have a seat. Evan will be here in a moment." He gestured toward a group of chairs lining the wall.
    A few moments later Evan walked in. Before anyone had a chance to say anything, he spoke. "All right, what did that no-good bully Derick pin on me this time?"
    "Calm down, Evan. We all know how this works." Said the principal. He handed the note to Evan. "Not to smart of you to sign your name."
    "I know. But I didn't write that note. I didn't get those answers. And I've never seen this kid in my life!" Exclaimed Evan.
    "If not you, then who, might I ask?" Inquired Mr. Kruts.
    "I told you. Derick. He's always pinning things like this on me. And who else would try to double target me with a new kid?"

The first part of our story...
    

  I believe it is fitting that you should go ahead and meet the villain. However, I feel I must warn you, the villain in my story is not like the Lion King's Scar, or Aladin's Jafar, and most certainly not like the White Witch in Narnia. No, in my story it is not enough to simply be frightening, or sinister looking, or mislead. No, in my story, to be the villain, you must be terrorizing, deceitful, and utterly hideous. That is what my villain is.
    Now before I begin I must warn the weak at heart and the soft at stomach, the following is both somewhat intense, utterly sad and, to a great deal, maddening. If you feel like skipping this part, by all means do so. However, should you chose to skip the following, you may miss important facts that build the story. You chose.
    Now to begin...
    Though our story is about a boy, and we meet him headed for school, it really begins four hundred fifty thousand years before, in a world you can only dream about...

     Paradon walked out of the meeting room, shaking his head in disgust. It had happened again. Regardless of the facts that he was the most powerful, influential beings in the Realm... other then the Great One, of course... he had still been denied a seat at the Council. For the umptenth time. Well, he was tired of waiting. It was time to act.
    Not that he had really been waiting. He had long prepared for this day. It had taken time, yes, but he was pationt... with things like this.
    Great One indeed! Paradon was just as great, if not more, yet he wasn't even allowed on the Council. Well, he no longer cared. After all, why should he? Before the next day dawned, he would be 11,9,14,7, not the Great One.
    Yes. 11,9,14,7. Paradon could hardly wait. Yet he would wait. After centorys of planing, one wrong move could cause his plan to fail. Could cause defeat. And Paragon would not allow that. Not now. Not ever.
    Paradon looked at the sun. It was almost time. Just a few more hours and he would rule it all. The Earth. The Realm. And Yith. An evil smile crept across his face. He could hardly wait.

    A low, impatient growl emitted from the throat of Commander Visnak. He could feel the tension in the air. Even the Drones were resles. He glanced at the sun. It had begun it's set. Almost time.

    Micale, second in command in the Order of the Great One and Chief of the Council, could feel the tension in the air as well, though he couldn't say why. Something was stering, that much he knew, though what he was unsure. It didn't help that a third of the Order had vanished. Micale glanced at the sun as it disappeared over the horizon. For some reson, tonight felt colder then usawale.

    Commander Visnak watched the sun set. Finally, cool, dark night. The countdown was over. Time the make the Order pay...

    They all heard it at the same time. A shriek, lone and piecing, split the night. Mical- and all the other Beings still loyal- were startled by the noise. Paradon smiled.
    After the shriek faded away, there was again silence. For a few moments at least. Then the air was filled with the sound of wings. Hundreds of thousands of wings. Mical turned to look at the sky and shuddered. Here's why.
    The moon, the stars, the sky itself was blocked out, replaced now by dark, evil shapes. Each shape had a pare of glowing red eyes, filled with envy and hatred tworeds the Beings they now looked down upon. And at least one million eyes stared down.
    Then, as suddenly as they came, they attacked.Swiftly they folded their wings behind them in unison and dropped from the sky. Weapons were unsheathed. Ugly, cruel looking weapons, made for effectiveness, not looks.
    But the most startling thing that happened that night was not the sudden and vicious attack, or the fact that the third that had disappeared was leading them. No, the most startling thing that happened that night had to do with Paradon. No longer a member of the Order, of even a Being, he transformed. He grew a tail, and wings. Scales now covered his body. His face morphed into a dragons snout. Yes. That's what he was. The Dragon.
    The Dragon roared a long, loud, angry roar. To long had he posed as a Being of the Great One. The stress of being good took it's toll.
    Viciously he lashed out at any who dared approach. The Dragon took a huge breath of air and unleashed a torrent of fine that easily consumed three scores of Beings. Yes, just as he suspected, Beings were attempting to sneak up on him. No matter. His tail made short work of them.
    The Dragon unfolded his massive wings and moved to the sky. He did a quick scan of the battle- yes, things were going nicely. His forces already had the upper hand. It would not be long now.
It was then that his eyes caught sight of something interesting. A lone Being broke ranks and was charging him, cutting down every Drone in his path. The Dragon almost smiled in amusement... then he realized just who was charging him. It wasn't just some over-confident Being. It was Mical. The only Being who had even a hope of stopping him. And a Great One die hard, who  would sooner be killed then have the Great One uncrowned.
    Be killed it is.
    The Dragon roared a challenge and prepared to attack.He never got to.
    No one was ever quite sure what happened next. Some say an explosion occered when the two met, knocking the Dragon and all his forces out of the sky. Others say everything I just told you never happened. But what I say is the Great One, all powerful and all knowing that He is, finally intervened and banished the Dragon and his followers out of the Realm. Though I must confess, even I do not know where he is now. He has made appearances on Earth twice... I know this. Yet there is no evidence that he now resides here. And he has yet to appear on Yith, though any of the uninhabited island around Yith would do.
    That is where our story truly begins. Now on to the ofifsale begining.
    (P.S I give bonus points to whoever can figure out what biblical story this resembals and when the Dragon appeared on Earth!)


Until next time,
The Writer

 Welcome on and all!
 This blog is totally dedicated to a story I'm writing, named "Yith; The Adventure Begins". Now, just sit back, relaxes, and enjoy...


Sincerely,
The Writer