"Step forward pesiant," a deep and booming voice declared, " just what do you think you were doing in the room of mirrors?"
"C-c-cleaning sire." the small meek shadow replied.
"Cleaning, is that all? Yet you were standing, staring at a mirror, contemplating on touching it, mayhaps even walking through it!" The booming voice started sounding agitated.
"Sire there are trespassers. They appeared from nowhere just outside of the cursed swamps of Gol-Daffry." a knight said, running up to the throne of the large creature. The creature could almost look human, that is, if it wasn't for its eight foot stature. It wears clothes similar to that of royalty, not any royalty but that of the high kings, elegant royal purples, radiant crimson reds, lustrous brilliant golds. Though its body is shaped closer to a plump mellon, it stands tall, with dignity, authority, and confidence. Not a soul has ever seen this creature's face. The mask looks akin to a pumpkin. The being itself acknowledges this and thus chose to be called the Pumpkin King.
The Pumpkin King sits on its throne and decides.
"What to do, what to do?" It thinks for just a few moments more, "AH, yes, that's it! We will allow them to continue, though these interlopers will pay the tax for entering my world!" As the king says this, it laughs maniacally.
"Yes, let them pay the soul tax." And with a wave of its staff, a brilliant light shot out to the sky.
This realm wasn't always ruled by this strange pumpkin warring creature. Stories of old say that there was once a goddess, just her presence in the realm caused it to shine brightly, to grant glorious life to the plants, animals, and the souls. This is the story of how a few brave souls saved the realm of AAsh-Fourtai. Mere moments after the group arrived, they would lose their paladin, their paladin who worships the goddess who once ruled over this domain, only to have the same goddess take his place in the battles to come. Leading the heroes through a maze of dangers, the first perral in their way is the cursed swamps of Gol-Daffry.
Gol-Daffry was once a beautiful lake, home to lush green forest, and exotic creatures of all kinds. In truth, the now derelict swamp is closer in size to a country than a lake. There are remnants, lost remains of cities built on the waters, and islands that are so widespread that one is lucky if they can see the next island on the horizon. There is no easy way to travel here, so many who come have met their final resting place here. They truly meet their final resting place under the murky waters.
Spring, having teleported with his friends, could think of only one place safest for them to stay. Brought them to the workshop where spring was made and later found. This workshop isn't too far from the city that is under attack, though it is just far enough out that spring thought it would be safe. "I must return and slay the hydra before the entire city is destroyed. I can not fail him, Armon. You made me fight them. You knew that it would return." Spring thought to himself.
"Spring, It's time for more training. I have a dwarf friend here with me. He will teach you to fight with a sword." Armon yells into the workshop. Spring walks over to the sound of Armon's voice. He sees his creator and the dwarf. This small man is no taller than Armon has two great swords on his back. He waves for spring to follow him, as the two step outside into a large forest clearing.
"Take this and repeat my every move," the dwarf tosses. Spring one of the swords, then after drawing the other, starts several strikes and stances. Spring catching the sword does as he is told and almost perfectly mimics the dwarf move for move.
"Good, now we will end every training session with a duel. Do you understand that?" the dwarf says in a very gruff tone. It almost sounds like dragging a bag of metal scrap through gravel. Spring simply nods, not understanding, and as he tries to ask what a duel is, the dwarf dismisses him, telling him to focus on the training. Some hours later, the dwarf stops.
"It's time, face me, the rules are simple: we strike one another until one of us lands a hit, you will not try to kill me, not yet. Does this make sense?" Before Spring can reply, the dwarf is already in motion, moving almost as though he is flying through the air. With only enough time to move the sword, Spring blocks the incoming attack.
"Good, at least the old man gave you good reaction speed. Let's see what other surprises you have." As the dwarf jumps back just about ten feet from spring. Spring without even realizing it readys his blade for the dwarfs next attack. Sure enough, he charges in once again, and spring being prepared this time swings his sword. Using the flat of the blade, he hit the little dwarf and sent him flying into a tree.
"Ohhhh! Good, you learn quickly. Armon, you owe me some ale after that." The dwarf stands up and brushes of the dust and dirt.
"Yah, sure, whatever. At this rate, I'll owe you an ale just to talk to you." Armon quips back as he heads inside.