The Kingdom of Riefle stood atop a mountain, shining ivory tower protruding from the grey mountain of the Hazonia continent. The many paths leading to and from the kingdom were carved over hundreds of years and millions of steps that started this great kingdom from a mining town to one of the one of the Power Triangle. Inside the walls, many lived from every walk of life and Hoomian species. Elves, Dwarfs, Brownies, Gnomes, and basic Hoomian all lived inside, their routines going on to keep the kingdom up. At the center of the kingdom stood the Castle of Traud, the ruling family of the kingdom with the King and Queen hard at work keeping things running smoothly along with their future heir, yet they were not the only royalty that lived in the castle.
"Yes, very good." A man said watching over two young men in the courtyard, wooden sword clashing through their training, his long grey hair pulled back and a neatly trimmed beard match with piercing blue eyes watching them move with their swords. One of them, young and lean, yet a hint of muscle under it all was pushed back from the other one, making his brown hair flutter in the wind and his hazel eyes stare back at his partner. "Eliot, keep your hands firmly on your handle." The teacher addressed him, stepping in between them and showing how he should be holding it, "Holding it like this." He turned his hand from where they were, "just slight change, but enough."
"For?" Eliot's answer came from the teacher's saber, moving swifter then the wind and the blade was at his throat, the tip pressing against his skin and the wooden sword hitting the ground behind them.
"Your head becomes someone mounted prize." He finished with a big smile and sheathed his sword, "Now, I want you both to resume and...."
"Sir Nittle." A new voice washed over the courtyard and the three turned to the balcony, were a woman stood looked over them. Her long, burning red hair and golden eye complimented her tan complexion, and dressed in a gold and white gown proved she was of the highest order.
"Lady Traud." Nittle said bowing with Eliot and the other joining, with the queens gaze washed over them, wondering what the queen could need from them.
"That is enough training," She commanded, "We need you in the throne room." Nittle nodded and waited for the queen to make her leave from their gaze to resume standing and turning to them.
"You heard her, dismiss." They were shocked to hear this from him, even with the queen's ordering ''it, they simply watched him leave before making a move.
"Come on, let's wash up." Eliot's sparrer patter his back and with a nod, a quick trip to the local bathhouse and a little flirting with the hand maidens there, Elliot and his partner headed to a common tavern to cut loose from their day of training.
"What can I get you two?" A voice asked as sweet as honey and they both saw their wrench was an elf, her flowing blonde hair covered her crystal-like skin, shining in torch light and her emerald green eyes stared calmly at the two young men, her normal wrench dress hugging her slim, yet feminine figure.
"Yeah, two mugs of mead and some legs of lamp." Elliot's comrade said and the elf nodded, writing it down and headed to the back to get it, leaving the two watching her move with the grace of a dancer with her long legs taking big, calming stride through the rowdy crowd. Elliot couldn't remove his eyes from their wrench, following her through the tavern and a small smile spread a crossed his face. "Oh, does someone like what they see?"
"What?" Elliot turned to him with blush covering his cheeks and looking back, yet she was gone in the sea of bodies.
"You should talk to her." He said with a slap to his back, "I hear elves love Hoomins since they live so long that a relationship with us are nothing."
"That's not true, plus this is a tavern, not a brothel."
"What about a brothel?" The sweet voice asked and they turned to see their wrench holding their mead mugs in her hand, looking at them.
"Uhhhh, w-well um....." Elliot tried to explain, yet his mind fell on her face with a look of confusion and disappointment.
"He was saying you were prettier then any of the workers at the brothel." His comrade spoke up and gained a look from both of them.
"Uhhh, thanks." She placed their mugs on the table and quickly moved on, leaving Elliot to slam his head against the table.
"I hate you, so much." Eliot growled, downing half his mead in one go.
"What, i was helping you." He said calmly looking confused at him and the glare he got back did nothing on him, shrugging and drinking his own mead at a calmer rate then him. They were soon brought their food by a different wench then, any question as to what happened to the last one was answered from her glare, she shot right to Eliot when he was about to ask. He turned to his friend eating his food like nothing happened and Eliot ordered more mead before downing the rest of his drink. Eliot refused all other chances of conversation with him, drinking more mead and his food until he was in a drunken stupor, his mind drowned in liquor and refusing to work right even if asked to.
"Y-You are a-a giant asshole." Eliot slammed his now fifth mead cup and looked at him, "I-I wanted to t-talk to her a-a-and then you opened your b-big mouth."
"Whoa, relax man. I was really trying to help." He said looking at Eliot glare at him.
"Really, s-saying she looks better t-t-then a whore w-was helping how?" He stood only for darkness to hit him and the floor meeting him soon after, a lite snore echoing from him soon after, gaining looks from all the commotion coming from their table.
Meanwhile, in the castle Sir Nittle's was standing before the king, sweat drops dripping from his brow with the king seated on his throne, his royal gab flowing from his shoulders to his feet with many gems and jewels, his long grey hair and beard showed his age of how many times he had spent keeping the kingdom running.
"Sire, you can't be serious?" He asked looking at his highness, hoping he would be mistaken with the news he had just been given.
"I'm afraid not." He answered with a sigh, his wife placing her hand on his to calm him, "The Great Lich Clathcia has returned and must put an end to her before the land is ruined." The king stroked his beard, looking to Sir Nittle with grey eyes, "My son will be needing aid, please select the right one to help on such tough quest."
"Yes sire." He answered bowing and taking his leave, walking out of the throne room.
"Honey, are you sure this is the only way?" She asked, wanting to insure he wasn't overreacting or no thinking everything through.
"Yes, i must be done and I need to make sure before....." A raspy cough caught him off guard, doubling over onto the floor and blood coming onto his hand, allowing him to look at it.
"The reaper takes you?" His wife asked kneeing next to him and held him close, comforting him with his breathing deeper only adding to the coughs. She held him, watching him releasing several more blood spots onto the floor until he finally calmed down and she helped him to his feet, placing him back in his throne.
"Yes...that....." He said in between his breaths looking at her, "I want.....to.....make sure.....you have what...you ...need when....it happens." He wheezed each word out and sat back on the throne, his wife holding him close as he slowly nodded off, something that had became common in the last few years and stayed with him in his chair, holding her husband as he slept.
"I just hope this is the right choice." She mummer, pressing his head to her dress and let him sleep comfortably in her caring embrace. Her eyes falling to the grand door Nittle had left through and thought what he could be feeling with this news, the choice he had to make not falling on easy shoulders and she knew it.
Sir Nittle stepped slowly down the hall, the words on what the king had told him and his mind running on who he should pick for the job. He had trained many over the years and now he needed to pick one of them to head out to save the kingdom. He knew this was not going to be easy, but he had a list of who would be the best choice for the job.