Chapter I

Homeward bound

Sekuria shivered as the brisk fog clung to his skin and choked out the distant light. Chirps and chatters echoed in the trees; the only other sounds being the gentle wind brushing through the branches and the soft clack of His boots on the stone road. 

  He rested his hand lazily upon the longsword at his belt. Lithokance, his mighty blade, had aided him among a lifetime's worth of War and tribulation. Sekuria shifted in his leather armor, his dark green cape swayed in the breeze as Lithokance swung in cadence with each step. Searching the mist, Sekuria pulled back the dark brown hair that had come out of his tight braid, momentarily revealing the eagle-shaped scar on his wrist. His searching eyes seemed to glow deep blue, reflecting faintly purple on his war-torn and tired features. The moonlight showed a wide scar running down his cheek to the base of his chin. 

    With nothing but the forested path in sight, his thoughts drifted back to home and the glories of past adventures. 

  It's been too long. Sekuria thought. Three years from home is a high price to pay.  I should never have taken this job. I hope Serra can forgive me.

 Sekuria’s face wrinkled with disappointment but immediately softened with relief. At least now I can finally put an end to this nonsense. As he walked along the forested path, the cobbled street became more prominent until the fog began to glow with the distant lights. The passing trees began to grow familiar. It had an old yet warm feel to it, one of many dear memories. He sighed with relief. He was home.

"Too long," he muttered. 

     Thoughts of his family overwhelmed him and led him down the path to Marth’s End. As he walked, Sekuria began to notice the distant lights of the City, once he moved closer, he could make out the towering wall that traveled the length of Marth's End, and eventually the dark grey stone imported from the Dwarves in the West Mountains which stood as a testament to the city's wealth and importance. There hadn't been any major need for these walls for nearly 25 years, ever since the end of the great war. As Sekuria walked up to the large steel portcullis, it creaked open by large, sturdy gears. He walked through and a feeling of surprise, almost shock, surged through him as he saw the men around welcome him back merrily. 

   This is ridiculous . Sekuria thought riley. He gave a slight chuckle to the crowd of guards and captains that appeared to meet him.

    Shouldn't they be doing something important? Oh, what does it matter? Let's see if Bontu got hold of my letter. I've got some unfinished business before I make for home. He thought, as he shouldered his way through.

    Continuing past the gate and through the winding streets, he marveled once again at how truly chaotic the streets of the City can be, especially in the dark. He'd almost forgotten how confusing it was to navigate Marth's End even with all the street signs; well maybe it was because of the signs. The roads before him seem to have little to no pattern, and the narrow passages and dark alleyways that crossed the city were almost as numerous as the roads themselves, making it all but impossible to navigate on foot. Sekuria’s confusion was only made worse by the haphazard wagons and carts pushed to the sides of the streets. Making his way to the “Blistered Imp” to wait for Bontu, a feeling of relief and security completely overcame him. It’s been too long.

    Approaching the inn, he could still see a soft glow of light emanating from the windows as the late night buzz of chatter drifted into the streets. The Blistered Imp had been Sekuria’s drinking hole for many years, it did however attract a rather lively group of individuals. From just outside cheering and jeering could be heard. As he opened the door however, it quieted as people turned to look at the new comer until everyone stared at him. Taking a quick scan of the tavern Sekuria saw rough men and women of several different races, all gathered together in small groups no greater than six or seven. Over in the corner a cluster of dwarves had paused in the middle of a drinking game, coins still rattling on the table from the latest bet, at another table a group of guards were playing cards while common folk were scattered throughout enjoying a late night's drink after a long day of work. 

“Hey!” Loud shouts filled the room. 

“Look who it is, It's the phantom himself!” 

“Welcome home!” they shouted at him.

   After what felt like an uncomfortable amount of time, without warning, the innkeeper; a short burly man with a round yet firm face and a short greying beard, snapped a sharp whip. The sound echoed throughout the building and the noise died as quickly as it had begun. “Let the man alone.” He yelled in a thick foreign accent. “He's no stranger here and y'all know where he went off to anyhow. I see no harm in givin’ the man some room.”

    At that, the patrons returned to what they were doing, occasionally looking at Sekuria with either suspicion and amazement. The innkeeper motioned Sekuria over and slapped a mug down on the bar in front of him. Sekuria moved over to the innkeeper and instead of taking the mug, smiled and grabbed the innkeeper by the arm in a firm welcome. 

   “It's good to see you Veln!” Sekuria chuckled with a deep rumbling voice.

 “Aye! The same, the same! How have yah been?” 

“As good as ever! I noticed you upgraded, sick of cleaning up broken bottles?”

 “Aye,” Veln agreed. “Never a good idea to throw things in your own inn, it just breeds trouble, doesn't stop it. Anyhow, I haven't had any word of yah for several months, what happened out there?” 

“A story for another time I'm afraid. Right now I'm looking for Bontu; I sent word ahead to meet him here. Has he come in?”

 Veln nodded, “You're in luck.” He motioned to a corner booth with a nod of his head. “Your friend is over there. He made much less of a stir than you.”

Sekuria let out a half amused chuckle, “Thanks Veln.” he reached into his pouch to throw a coin on the counter, Veln stopped him with an outstretched hand;

“My treat, dear friend. It's my finest brew yet, been perfecting it since you were last around.”

Sekuria smiled and nodded as he grabbed his drink and turned away from the innkeeper.  

     Over in the furthest corner booth Sekuria spotted a cloaked older man with broad shoulders hunched over a tall mug. Walking over and taking a seat across the table Sekuria looked into the eyes of a close and familiar ally. Bontu smiled. 

“It's good to see your face Sekuria. I got your letter, and I'll be honest, when I got it I about choked! I thought you were gone for sure.” 

 Bontu held his sharp eyes like an arrow in his wrinkled face, his grin seemed to come by naturally. As he threw his head back, bontus short hair, was peppered and combed neatly off to one side.

 “I'm very much alive,” Sekuria affirmed. “I've got one more thing to do before this is over. But first explain to me why I’m such a surprise?”

With a quizzical look, he replied, "think about it, Sekuria. You're 65 years old and the entire town gets word that you're volunteering to be dragon food. No matter how much you've done in the past, rumors are going to fly. Not to mention it's been three years since you left!” 

Ha! he's got a point. Sekuria thought with a chuckle. “I guess that's fair.”

With a slight grin crossing his face, he reached under his cloak and opened a pouch, unnoticeable otherwise, and pulled out a hand full of what looked like small glittering gems. They looked like smooth flat stones, but were all sorts of hues of blue and purple each differing from the rest in size and sparkled when touched by the light. 

“I can't believe it.” Bontu said whispering to himself. 

“You actually did it, didn't you?” He breathed letting out a slight laugh of wonder and amazement. 

“Scales from Zerúm himself. ” Sekuria said with a show of pride. “The dragon had quite a bounty placed on it's head from the dwarves at Zharuk-vus.” 

“Those scales must be worth a fortune!” Bontu exclaimed 

Sekuria shook his head. “I've already put away all that's worth my time. With wealth comes thieves, I just want to settle down, Bontu. Take these, I won't need them; with a pause he added; nor do I want them.”

“I couldn't bring myself!” Bontu said hesitantly. 

“Take them.” Sekuria placed them in front of Bontu. “Find a buyer. You have done more for me than you know.” Grudgingly, Bontu grabbed the smooth scales and nodded to Sekuria. “Thank you.” He said with a smile. “What will you do now?” 

“After I leave I'm going back to my estate over on the edge of town just outside the walls in the valley of Sorúd. There my family stays, I'll live out my life in retirement,” Sekuria explained. 

“May I be so bold as to ask a favor of you Sekuria?”

 Wrinkling his eyebrow, Sekuria said; “you know I'd do anything for you.” Half jokingly and half not he added with a smile; “as long as I’m not climbing the nearest mountain to drop an avalanche on an Orc camp!”

 Chuckling Bontu replied; “You have more than just a few years left I think. More than I do anyway. Sekuria thought he could see his friend wilt slightly.Will you spend a bit of your time at the gates training the soldiers? I'm too old now and it would be a great way to pass on your legacy.” 

“For you friend, I'll do anything,” He answered with a coarse grin,  “Just give me some time with my family. Then I'll come train with you at the gates.” 

Bontu responded laughing and nodding,“You've got a deal!” Getting up to leave, Sekuria began walking to the door, as he did Bontu yelled after him, “You be careful out there!”

“When am I ever careful!” Sekuria replied looking over his shoulder. 

“That's what worries me!” Bontu said giving Sekuria a half serious look getting back to his drink. It seemed to Sekuria as though his whole countenance shrunk as his gaze dove into his ale.

    As the door began to close behind Sekuria he could hear shouting and music fill the Inn, until the muffled cacophony filled the dark ally. He started towards home   he thought to himself as he scoffed and started for home. The town was empty and quiet, save for a couple people making their way to an inn from a long day's work. The streets were lit with the occasional torch sconce or from an inn seeping onto the nearby road. The sound of Sekuria’s boots on the stone were his only accompaniment in the dark night. 

He was completely alone.

   The closer he got to home the more uneasy he felt.

Something's not right. He thought as he searched out every detail, scanning for what was out of place, but nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary. The air feels heavy He thought as he took a deep breath through his nose. 

“… Burnt torches, and it's thick on the air.” there is no reason for a smell of smoke that strong out here unless… 

  Concerned Sekuria lept to a sprint, his fears only accelerating as he saw his home. Something's wrong, I can sense it. Approaching the house he slowed his pace. It's too quiet. Sekuria thought as 

he jammed opened the door; nothing, no disturbance, no cries, no lights. Franticly Sekuria tore through the house for any signs of life. Concern becoming increasingly etched into his face as each room yielded no results. No signs of life, no struggle, not even misplaced blankets.

 “Serra!” he yelled in near desperation. “Serra, where are you!” He ran up the different floors of the house slamming open each door. “Tray! Answer me bud!” 

Catching a quick glimpse of soft orange lights from the second floor balcony Sekuria bolted onto the balcony only to behold a large host of men in the expansive grassy field behind his cottage. 

    Looking down, Sekuria's eyes narrowed as a wretchedly familiar tall man with wrinkled features and long face bellowed his name. “Sekuria! We have the place surrounded and your family in chains!” Laughing the man’s guttural voice echoed ominously in the night as his deep red eyes rested venomously upon Sekuria. 

“Where are they Tordale?” Sekuria demanded coldly, a chilling calm settling over him.  

Lips creeping upward in a dry smile, Tordale taunted, “What does it matter, you'll never see them again. Be assured however, that they are quite miserable in their current circumstances.” 

“Tell me! Or I'll gut you worse than last time!” Sekuria threatened. How could he do this? I really will gut him, if a warning wasn't enough last time then only death will solve him! 

“You mean this?” 

Tordale lifted his shirt to reveal a scar running from his navel to his heart. “Nothing more than a scratch, and a permanent reminder of you.

“But if you must know before you die, we sold them to a cloaked group calling themselves the Eyeless; though they claimed to be slave traders. They weren't very good liars, but no matter, they still paid me quite well for them!” Tordale spoke mockingly. 

 Boiling with fury Sekuria spit out his words with seething anger. “I should have killed you Tordale!” 

   “I tire of this trivial talk Sekuria,” Tordale said with a sigh. “You were always dull when it came to conversation.” 

Turning he waved his arm and signaled for his archers to fire on the house. Several volleys of fiery arrows launched into the sky streaking into the wooden cottage. Within seconds it was ablaze. Stuck on the second floor balcony Sekuria furiously unsheathed Lithokance; He felt the pulse of mana rush within him as the Eagle scar on his wrist began to glow blue with potent energy. Swinging Lithokance several times above his head Sekuria felt the warm energizing sensation feed into his movements. His blade began to spark with electricity and glow bright blue with the pulse of mana.   Thrusting his sword towards the sky a beam of lightning immediately fired from its end. The electric energy quickly gathered into a ball above the field as it started to rain. Without warning, bolts of lightning sporadically shot off from the orb as if they were large eagles stretching their wings with ear splitting cries. The bolts stormed towards the archers that had fired on the cottage. Each archer struck by the powerful blast evaporated without a moment's notice immediately vanishing in the storm. 

   As Sekuria’s cottage roared in flames and the storm outside raged on, the surrounding scene became as volatile as it was awe-inspiring; Leaping from the balcony Sekuria  landed on the ground with a hard thud as firm as a boulder shaking the earth beneath him. His stone cold face shown with furious reprisal as it dripped beads of water. 

    Sekuria stood looking towards Tordale with a gaze that could crack stone. Now I will end what should have ended so very long ago. 

“You can't escape Sekuria!” Tordale taunted, with a shake in his voice. “This is your end!” Sekuria readied his blade and slowly made his way towards Tordale, ignoring all possibilities of death. 

“Charge him fools!” Tordale commanded. 

His men charged Sekuria with numbers too great to count. As Sekuria raced to meet them it became a dance–his rage fueling his movements–each motion finding a target. No movement wasted, a dodge became a strike, fluidly weaving through the attackers movements.Each step brought  him closer towards Tordale.

    As Sekuria struck a foe across the chest, he spun just in time to parry another blade. With a sweeping kick Sekuria knocked him to the ground and jumped backwards to strike a foe across the face; leaving his enemy a disfigured mess falling to the ground. A low wide sweep of his sword cut the legs out from under the next three advancing men. Running through another group of men he slid underneath their swinging blades.  Sekuria spun, deflecting a strike and grabbed the man from behind using his new meat shield to defend against other advancing enemies.Casting the dead man aside with his fallen brothers Sekuria charged into the hoard of men, killing each of them with precise accuracy. Earning a brief respite Sekuria channeled mana into his arms and blade. The vibrant, unstable glow of Lithokance created a razor-sharp whirlwind. Sekurias movements became quicker, felling men with each stroke. 

“Release the beasts!” Tordale yelled, desperation sounding in his voice. 

With the sound of racking cages, an entire pack of wolves lept from the darkness giving Sekuria almost no time to think. With a sudden and desperate movement Sekuria pointed Lithokance towards the incoming wolves and fed his burning rage into the blade as mana creating an arcing beam of volatile lightning that struck each of the wolves as if with Eagles talons. 

The strike left Sekuria weak and he dropped to the ground gasping. 

With a grin, Tordale rushed towards Sekuria alongside his remaining bodyguards, with victory in sight. 

Exhausted, Sekuria stood and readied himself. 

“Let's end this!” 

With unprecedented agility Sekuria glid around swords, not making an attack until an opponent made himself vulnerable. One by one Lithokance found its mark, leaving electrified victims writhing on the wet earth. With swift precision Sekuria and Tordale clashed blades several times. The fight had become one of strategic maneuvers. With an over headed swing, Sekuria struck down on his opponent. His strike deflected, he spun his body under Tordale's sword arm, his blade already moving towards his opponent he tore open a gaping wound down the back of Tordale's leg, throwing him to the ground. Uncontested Sekuria continued his unfaltering spin around his enemy slashing Lithokance across his abdomen. Tordale fell to the ground and let out a groan of pain and humiliation. 

Wounded and gasping through the pain in his stomach, Tordale lie helplessly and completely at the mercy of the victor. Battle ended and sweat dripping, Sekuria packed away his anger and returned to his original calm disposition. 

“I need a name Tordale” he said urgently but with calm undertones. 

“What are you going to do, kill me?” Tordale sayed through gasps of hard fought air. 

“Life isn't what you're fighting for anymore Tordale. You're begging for how fast and painless the passing will be.”

Defiantly, Tordale spit at Sekuria’s boot. 

“Have it your way, ” Sekuria muttered angrily. 

Sekuria channeled his mana into the palm of his hand and the eagle scar glowed bright blue with dangerous levels of pure energy. 

 Tordale screamed in agony as flesh seared across his face. As Sekuria grabbed hold, jolts of electricity jumped through his body causing him to spasm uncontrollably. 

“Tell me!” Sekuria raged, letting him go to give him time to speak. Silence… 

The heart wrenching sound echoed throughout the valley as Tordale again screamed in pain. 

“I can be patient. How long can you hold out?” Sekuria asked. 

“Enough! ” Tordale pleaded, “I don't know who has them anymore. I sold them to a group called the Serpents. They offered big money for the lot of them. Your family could be anywhere.” 

Anger coursed through Sekuria. “The Serpents,” he muttered loathfully, “I need more!” 

“I don't have any more!” 

Grabbing Tordale by the throat Sekuria picked him up off the ground. 

Screams of terror leapt from the helpless victim. All of the surrounding valley glowing blue with the electrical flow. “I swear," he cried, "You could try their hideout several miles out of town. I overheard them say they would take them there for temporary holding!”

 Dropping the near lifeless victim to the muddy ground Sekuria summoned what remaining sympathy he had and thrust his sword into Tordale, piercing him to the heart. Taking his last shuddering breath the tortured man fell silent, his agonies ended by that cold and lonely Sojourn; Death.