The next thing Jarthen knew, he was lying face down on a stone floor with a quite a headache. He lay there for a moment taking in his surroundings: a pale light was emanating from somewhere to his right, the floor was cold, hard and a bit damp, and there were people talking nearby. Not sure where he was, Jarthen thought back: he had heard the screams of an attack, and rushed out to fight…and that was about all he could remember. “Hmm,” he thought to himself, “this is quite a spot I’ve gotten myself into… I must have been captured during the night’s battle.” He was not sure however, so he decided to listen to the conversation that was being carried on behind him. He could understand some of the voices fairly well, although they were a bit low in volume, while others appeared to have strange, outlandish accents, which he struggled to comprehend. He detected at least three different accents, none of which he had ever heard before.
“Well,” he said to himself, “it looks like the enemy’s got me. Knowing my luck these damnable brutes will probably eat me.”
No sooner had these thoughts crossed his mind when he heard one of his captors clearly say, “And ‘ow do ya prapose we cooks it?”
Not willing to let himself become a meal without a fight, Jarthen stood up and, in the bravest voice he could muster, said “ugh…” for he had just now caught sight of his captors and he knew than that all the stories he had heard as child about the horrid creatures of the north were true. He saw a beast with the torso of a man, and the body of a horse, several men that he took to be dwarves, a woman that was covered with fur like a wolf, and had the claws of a cat, at least a dozen men who appeared to be normal save for their strange, wild garb, and finally one man who’s only abnormality seemed to be that he was incredibly old. When he had stood up, all the motley horde had become silent and stared at him, to Jarthen, the silence seemed to last an eternity, but it was probably just a few moments. Finally the Old Man spoke, “it would seem that our young friend has finally awaken,” his voice seemed much younger than his body, but nonetheless wise. “You are probably wondering,” the Old Man continued, “who we are. We are the coalition army of the free countries of the North. Normally we do not take prisoners, but because of your youth and litheness we have decided to liberate you from your cruel nation.”
With this last comment Jarthen forgot his fear and spoke, “What do you mean ‘liberate me,’ mine is a free and kind land ruled by a gentle queen.”
“Truly these are the words of someone who has lived in the shadow of the cruel witch for far to long,” said the Old Man. At that all the rest of the strange creatures and men laughed heartily. “Enough!” yelled the Old Man as a strange fire suddenly flared and disappeared in his eyes.
Jarthen cannot abide the slanderous words of the ancient mage“Well,” he started, “I suppose for you to understand it I’ll have to start from the beginning. When this land was first colonized by men from beyond the great western forests, they found living here in peace many different kinds of creatures. Some of those various creatures you see here today; this is Glothnafar, a centaur; these are Homchi, Gilflesh, and Narchlar, gnomes,” they appeared to be four foot tall versions of men with brown or red hair, and long straight beards; “this our proud dwarf, Narchect,” he was about the same height as the gnomes, but he had shorter legs, a broader build, and curlier hair and beard; “this is Zartheim, a member of the race of ogres,” at the mention of his name Zartheim stood and made a low bow towards Jarthen, he was approximately eight feet tall with long curly hair, an odd, clean shaven face, and an incredibly broad and muscular build; “and this is a member of the Felintarks, Raytol,” as he said this he gestured to the half-cat half-woman sitting in the corner.
“There are more,” he continued, “and there were more of us when the men arrived. They were peaceful; occasionally a disagreement would occur, but it was generally solved without the use of force. This relative peace continued for many generations, until the men had established their great city. On the throne of the city they placed a queen, she was kind, and young and beautiful. However, she came to study the art of magic: it would consume her. She gained great power; sadly it was a dark, evil power. She began to treat her people badly, forcing them to work long and hard to pay tribute to her. She knew, that her citizens would not put up with her cruelty for long so she put a spell on them; it made her appear as she had once been, kind and fair even though she grew more wicked by the day. Unfortunately for her, the spell did not extend to a few farmers in the north of her territory, as well any of the non-human creatures in the country. Feeling that she could not have these dissidents living on the edge of her realm, she set out to destroy us. But, despite her best efforts, we have managed to persist. However, our end would appear to be near at hand. It would seem that she has decided put all of her resources into destroying us: she intends not to leave one of us alive. That is our story…what do you have to say for yourself?”
Jarthen stood for a moment just trying to take in all that he had heard, finally he mustered the courage to respond, “I don’t know what to say. I suppose that I am sorry…your tale is a sad one that is certain. If what you say is true, than there is no way that I can return to the land of my queen. How can I know what it is….the truth?”
“I am afraid that I have no proof,” said the Old Man, “you must look into your heart to see what is true.”
So, Jarthen thought long and hard about all that he had heard and seen during his captivity. He was sure now that these creatures were not the barbarous fiends of which he had been told: they had neither killed nor harmed him, thus it would appear that he had been deceived about at least one thing. If there was one thing that he had been wrong about, why not others, he reasoned. At last he had made a decision about what he would do, what he had to do. He would join with this strange coalition, to fight for what he now knew in both his heart and his mind to be right and true. This was the beginning he thought, of something very important.
OF THE PROLOGUE
PLEASE CONTINUE TO CHAPTER 1
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