Imp
Imp was reading through the chronicles of magic, a book that was magical itself. It chronicled all of the past magic as they were created, from the time of its creation till present day. Among the collection of books that were stored in the Towers, this was among the most powerful.
This book explained in detail how to use the spells and what components where necessary, if any, to cast. Though most spells required things such as fax fur, few required none and these were more dangerous than anything this tower could offer. As Imp read through the chronicles he noticed a new spell being listed before his eyes. This was not anything unusual in itself, however, the unusual part was that the spell vanished as quickly as it was written.
Sitting up right, Imp stared at the page as the words began to form on the page only to disappear. When a spell is placed in the book, the creator of the spell has their name listed below. It would only take a moment longer and Imp would know who was able to deceive the magic in the book.
As the letters finished spelling out the name, Imp eyed the book speculatively. Imp closed the book and placed it on the table lovingly. His eyes shifting to the crystals that sat in the far corner for a moment before leaving the library.
The name that was spelled out on the page was the same person who trapped those who should be dead in crystals. Durak, a pyroniam that was long thought dead. He was said to have once been the most powerful magic user of all time and one of the few magic users that fought alongside Tyril in the second war of races.
This is getting interesting. Imp thought as he left the room, his mind racing as he tried to search for the answers he sought. I guess I'll just have to pay Durak a visit.
Scarlett
Scarlett flew on Amino's back, heading towards the "great" city of Whitewater. It wasn't that Scarlett doubted the city's reputation, it was just that she found it hard that any city could be great after the orc named Grall terrorized the world.
Not for the first time today, Scarlett let out a heavy sigh as she thought about her son. Rehan needed protection from his father, though he may be dead by now, Scarlett dared not check. At a rather young age, her uncle sold her to a wealthy aristocrat after her mother passed.
Scarlett had no love for the man and he had none for her. He wanted an heir to his legacy and only thought about how she could pass for human. Once, that's all it took.
He laid with her… No, that isn't the right way to say it. He forced himself onto Scarlett one night after dinner. Scarlett tried to fight back as she screamed and yelled for help, but in the end he got what he wanted.
A month later Scarlett found out she was with child and made plans to leave. Her brother was willing to hide her son while she worked to provide food for them. It was the best arrangement they could come up with, since her brother's green dragon was killed.
Scarlett shook her head and pinched her arm, quickly dragging her mind into the present as she stared forward. Amino turned his head slightly to glance at her, indicating his worry. With a small chuckle, Scarlett patted his back in reassurance.
Grodak
Grodak staggered out of the Shadow World and slumped onto his throne, he felt complete and utter disgust towards himself. He had abandoned a brother that he loved dearly just because he had broken a few rules of orcish warfare, yet here he sits breaking twenty a day. At least Grall could say that he did so in order to save lives, but Grodak… he wasn't sure if he could say much the same.
He had dedicated his very being to protecting those he cared for, yet somewhere along the way, he started becoming selfish and greedy. That was the last thing he wanted for his kingdom.
… His kingdom. Grodak's lips twitched up into a snare. After all this time, I still do not see this as my kingdom. He looked up to a painting of Tyril and frowned. Just where are you, my old friend?
Drillohiem
Drillohiem slowly pushed his body up off the floor, pain shooting through his side. Instinctively, Drillohiem lifted a hand to his side and, while wincing at the pain, felt around. At least two rib bones had been cracked and the rest were badly bruised.
"Why are you on the ground again?" Wreag demanded, he hovered a few feet over Drillohiem, looking down on him in anger. "How do you expect to master Talengar's most elementary abilities if you choose to lay on the ground?" Wreag mocked, he had a knack for pushing Drillohiem to near breaking points and forcing him to stand up and take it. "Get up and prepare yourself or I will kill you right here and now."
Drillohiem stifled a laughter he felt coming up and instead forced his body to do as he was instructed. He stood and took his stance, holding the rusted Oathbreaker in his right hand. He couldn't tell how much time had passed, nor did he have a way to track the time. This world that had at first dazzled and delighted him now seemed more like what his father would always call it. A curse, or rather a cursed place where one could easily lose their sense of self.
Drillohiem bit his bottom lip to force himself to concentrate and clear his mind. It was an elementary tactic, one he had subconsciously used in battle before, yet he found it difficult to force his mind into a state he did on an unconscious level.
Before Drillohiem could fully recover, Wreag signaled for six shadow orcs, all of whom held blunt weapons, to enter the fray. They charged at Drillohiem, their attacks coming in fast and fierce. Drillohiem barely managed to dodge two of the attacks as he brought the flat of his sword down on an orc's head and used his left leg to sweep another's feet out from under them.
The purpose of this training wasn't to teach Drillohiem how to fight, that he knew already, instead, this training was meant to teach him how to find an opponent's weakness and exploit it on a conscious level, something all of Talengar's reincarnation had no problems doing. However, it had taken Drillohiem months of training to be able to spot them, and several more to be able to exploit them. Wreag groaned, he had expected a lot from the son of Grall, perhaps more than he should have. Drillohiem was only half orc, this made his connection to Talengar weaker than any of the past carnations.
Perhaps, Wreag had found himself wondering on several occasions, he is not cut out to take up the role of a God. Maybe I should send him off to the afterlife as a means of mercy. No sooner had the thought entered Wreags mind, he was reminded why he had yet to actually follow through with his train of thought.
A line appeared in Drillohiem's vision, small, but very noticeable. Following the line, Drillohiem could see the familiar sight of glowing dots on the shadow's bodies. Following the line, Drillohiem began to weave through the shadow orcs and attack the locations the glowing dots indicated, bringing all the orcs to the ground.
"Good." Wreag said as once again, a renewed vigor sprouted in him. "You managed to follow the path and attack their vitals much quicker this time. Now, do it again."
Drillohiem did as instructed and with each battle his speed and accuracy grew. More time passed, most of Drillohiem's time was spent honing this skill, but Wreag would occasionally give Drillohiem a day of rest. During this time, Wreag would insist Drillohiem needed to eat and drink his fill as the shadow orcs of old taught him of their history.
Then, one day, Drillohiem found himself facing Wreag. Wreag stood poised, a glint of amusement in his eyes, he had instructed Drillohiem in what he needed but, just like his father had, Drillohiem had surprised Wreag. Wreag thought back to when he first learned of his Godhood and the troubles it brought him.
The pain Wreag felt in those days as he was beaten black and blue by those he had thought of as friends and family. The humiliation he received when he couldn't stand up to the likes of four puny humans. Wreag closed his eyes and took in a deep breath, that was neither here nor there, this is now.
He opened his eyes and smiled at his student. "You did good, but now, it is time for your final test."
Drillohiem bowed to Wreag in an old elven tradition of respect. "As you wish, Elder Wreag."
Wreag chuckled and had to bite his lip to keep it to that. "Only the elven elders can make me an elder, Drillohiem, so there is no need for such titles."
"As you wish, master." Drillohiem said as he took his stance, readying himself for the battle.
"Master?" Wreag seemed to ponder the new title for a moment before waving his hand. "I do not wish to be called by that title, or any other title either. If you must call me anything, then just call me by name."
"As you wish, Wreag."
"Now," Wreag said as he lifted his sword, "shall we begin?"
Grodak
Grodak laid in his bed, his thoughts turning to a past he had thought was buried. A time when he was nothing more than a simple leader of a small group of orcs. A time when he loved his brother Grall.
Grodak and his men had been attacked by another tribe as they escorted Grall through the scar. In the ensuing battle, Grodak had all of his men, all save one.
Grodak stood at the top of a hill that overlooked the encampment. His troops, his orc brethren that had followed him here now lay on the ground as Talengar's priestess whispered prayers for their souls to find peace in Talengar's embrace. It had been a long winter, one that had brought war and betrayal to his kinsman, and it'll be a long one still.
Grodak clenched his fist as he turned his back upon the dead, there was no helping them now. The dead belonged to his God and he plans to send more to him before the end of winter.
Grodak marched down the hill to the small makeshift prison that held a single orc, a traitor that had sold them out to a rival clan, and ripped the door off. The sounds of wood splintering was oddly satisfying to Grodak. Smiling, Grodak reached in and grabbed the orc by the scruff of his neck and pulled him out into the light so that he could look him in the eyes.
"What was it?" Grodak asked, lifting the orc into the air. "What could have been worth selling out your own kin?"
The orc struggled against Grodak's grip, trying to free himself long enough to breath. His struggles only made Grodak's grip tighten as he never truly wanted an answer, he only wanted an excuse to send him to Talengar.
"If you do not plan to answer me," Grodak said as his smile faded, "then I will have no choice but to kill you."
The orc tried to speak but the words wouldn't come out. Air. He needs air. Once he can fill his lungs he can explain to Grodak that he had no choice. They wanted their chief dead and were trying to lure Grodak out to use him as bait.
Grodak didn't loosen his grip and, with a quick jerking motion, snapped the orc's neck. The orcs body fell lifeless in Grodaks hand, he didn't want to kill him, but it was either him or possibly others in the tribe. He could not allow any more death at his hands to be allowed, and if he had…. No, Grodak refused to allow himself to think about it. He was dead and his task was almost complete.
"May you find peace in the bosom of our God." Grodak gently lay his friend's body on the ground. He glanced up to find a young orc child watching him with fascination, his eyes lingered on Grodak for some time before he approached.
"Brother," Grall said in a small intelligent voice, "why did you kill him?"
Grodak chuckled for a moment, his orders to protect his younger brother had yet to be finished and they were short on time, buf he couldn't help but feel amused. "He would have sold us out, if not to them than to another tribe. I couldn't allow him to put my little brother's life in danger anymore."
As the memory of a young Grall faded from the forefront of his mind, Grodak slowly fell into a deep sleep.