Monster, monster, monster

Coradda was now a wasteland a grave place to venture in to and the only animals that dwelt there were as vile as the inhabitants. Hyenas, wolves, vultures, and reptiles of all kinds especially land dragons.

    The wild had become a place where no sane person would want to find himself in and one might had thought Tram either crazy or ignorant in his frequent trips into the wild excepting he was confident in his abilities to fend himself. 

   He felt that his excursions were more a necessity then adventure. He was a hunter and there was good pay for the hides and meat of the dragons that dwelt therein. and being that his land were close to the wild it was only natural to do the bulk of his hunting there. 

   There had been several close calls, encounters with bands of savages but thus far he had bested them by pure force or by out smarting them but a skirmish with a large demon beast in these bad-lands is what permeates this tale. 

   The incident came about one hot weary afternoon while he was exploring a path he'd never noticed before. The path had widened into a narrow road and meandered up into the Noco Mountains. 

   The mountains once part of Coradda, now was barren, spotted with what use to be foundations and ruins of a recently lost civilization. 

   When Tram reached what he first thought was the end of the road that led to the ruins of what once had been a prosperous city, he noticed that the road split off and came to a dead end at the mouth of a large cave, perhaps an old mine.

   The cave entrance lay at the side of a hill within easy view from the ruins and Tram thought he could see movement just inside the entrance.

   He halted his horse and stood still not more then a stones throw away from the ruins trying to make out what was lurking about inside the cave. He began to get an eerie feeling, a feeling he had never experienced before and as he reined his horse to leave, the creature decided to step out from the cave into the light.

   It was a small dragon of a breed he’d never seen before, about the size of a dog except much longer of course. Its green skin was illuminated like a silken shimmering insect.

   Peculiar, it acted as if it was in no danger of the mounted knight and it moved in a manner that was a cross between waddling and slithering as it came towards him as if he were going to teach Tram and the horse a lesson in trespass.

   Tram wondered to himself whether the draget was fully grown or if it was a baby out for an adventure while its mother slept in the cool dank confines of the cave inside.

   Tram decided that he would track it latter when it had a chance to grow some. That is unless the draget became too aggressive.

Then he dismounted and cautiously walked towards the cave to see if a larger relative could be caught off guard, pushing aside a vague feeling that it might be he that winds up the one to be hunted.

    Then suddenly, the eerie quite was smitten with a ground shaking, horrendously loud demonic scream that caused his horse to rear and bolt. The scream nearly paralyzed him, his heart felt as if it had turned to stone and the word shock would not be extreme enough for what he now felt

   A large form that could only be described as a demon leaped over a section of a fallen wall and raced at him at the same speed his horse was running from him. Instantly having the feeling he had made a tragic blunder, he was left with just enough time to brace himself for the attack.

   The crazed attacker left Tram with the horrid feeling that he would do well to stay standing under the flurry of blows. His only hope was to keep the demon from making instant sausage of him; he was quickly losing all hope of making it no fun for the demon to fight him as that was always his strategy.

   The demon kept attacking in a series of berserk, furious, blows that kept Tram staggering backwards and wondering if his shield would hold up.

   Trams shield was quickly being mangled and perforated by the heavy mace the demon was swinging and each blow made Trams bones sting with jolting pain.

   It seemed like such an odd weapon for such a powerful beast but he did use it very effectively. The demon made it whirl like a chariots wheel and Tram was beginning to think that he was about to come to his earthly end. He knew he had to counter or else he would not endure the hammering from the maniac.
   With some inner determination he made himself do what he knew he had to do. The blow Tram delivered was a direct hit. It had been a purely timed maneuver. Before the mace even cleared its last impact, Tram stepped in to make his attack. 

   The demon was so lost in his furious frenzy that he actually stepped into the blow from the battle-axe. It had caught the demon square in the chest and even though it had felt like hitting a tree, the axe still went in far enough to have killed most living things. Tram was expecting to see a gush of red blood spurting from the wound but instead green acidic pus oozed out.

    He could hardly believe what he was seeing when the demon jumped back about the height of a tall man. It was all he could do to keep a death grip on his battle-axe, when the jerk of the reversing force came.

   Dropping the mace the demon sprinted away to his hole at the side of the hill, screaming with a horrific, gurgling sound that left Tram feel even more fearful of his life at the end of the fight then the beginning.

   By all rights the horned beast should had been squirming on the ground. He had to fight his natural urge to give chase to make sure it would never be a menace ever again but after hearing that horrific scream he wasn't about to follow into the cave to find out if the battle-axe had done it's work. 

   Surely the creature would die but in any case he was feeling fortunate enough to have the chance to leave on his own accord. He had seen some strange creatures in his life time but this one and the fight that ensued; he knew he would never forget.

   Only a couple of days had passed since Trams fight with the large demon and his arm was still bruised and sore from the battle. The last he had seen and the last he ever wanted to see of the demon, was seeing it scamper into its cave like a croc with its tail on fire.

    It took Tram an hour to catch up to his horse and all the while he had the feeling that ghostly beings were stalking him. He had shrugged the eerie feelings off as an irrational fear, none the less he swore to himself he'd never go back up into the Noco mountains. There are neither hides nor treasure worth that kind of danger.

    He finished putting on the gauntlets of his new armor. He was quickly getting bored at looking at the four walls of his lodge and decided he would go for a ride but then came the screeching roar that broke his thoughts. It was so loud that Tram first thought that the demon had returned from his grave and had returned for revenge but even that demon couldn't have matched this sound.

   Three quick steps and he was at the double doors to investigate the noise.

   He couldn't see anything wrong from the door-way, nothing at all seemed amiss so he began to look around. What could have possibly have made that kind of sound and still be nowhere to be found?

   He didn't believe in ghosts, at least he'd never seen one and didn't want to, especially if they sounded like that. Besides, no ghost could have made that sound, that roar came from a giant sized set of lungs. Possibly a terrible dragon but where was it? Logic told himself, something had made that sound; something had to be out there, something was very wrong. Something told him that there was something wrong with the air itself.

   He'd left the pathway and was meandering along the river gorge, trying to put the matter out of mind seeing that there was nothing outlandish to see so he decided to do his searching from the shade of a medium sized elm tree.

   Nothing, nothing, nothing. Was he losing his mind? Had that Demon shook him up so, that now he was imagining things?

   Perhaps he should go back and lay back down. This was crazy, how can this be? He could see every foot of his property. There was nothing that could possibly be hid on top of this plateau, still nothing to be seen.

   That's it. He was going back to rest some-more. He wasn't about to tell anyone about this episode.

   He stepped out of the shade when a large cloud like shadow shot passed him. Then there was the ear splitting screech again but this time he could see very well what made the commotion. A flying dragon!

   Tram hadn't believed in flying dragons just as he didn't believe in ghosts, not until now that is. He’d always thought they where a figment of someone’s wild imagination. Land dragons everyone knew to be a fact, even though they’ve been hunted down until they were few in number. The simple fact is that their meat and hide goes a long way for a people. Not to mention they're a little dangerous to leave running about. 

   There are various kinds of thunder dragons. Yet to think that a thunder or a terrible dragon could fly is absurd. Absurd or not there it was. However it was much sleeker then most thunder dragons but looked far more deadly and the wing-spans looked to be doing their heavy task very easily. The dragon’s tail, curled back and forth in flight like a snake. It looked as though the tail helped push the beast forward through the air.

   The dragon was now making a long turn in the distant sky, presumably to come back for him. It was pale in color an albino, almost an odd beauty to look at, it was almost hypnotic.He supposed a person could get mesmerized looking at the creature until it was too late to move and until the terror was right on top of them. He knew he would not make such a mistake. He already knew what moves he would make and when.

   He'd always thought that the rumor that they could breathe fire was derived from when some hunter got to close to a land dragon and felt its hot breath and saw its flickering tongue. He hoped dearly that he was not wrong about that as well, certainly wouldn’t want the surprise of becoming a cooked meal for a giant lizard.

   He knew he'd never be able to withstand the things forward momentum. He would feign an attack and jump clear at the last possible second.

   This, he miraculously pulled off being only slightly grazed by the flying monster. The dragon hit the ground hard and stumbled along, surprised that there was nothing in its grasp to chew on.

   Tram was quick to get back to his feet, his balance; his reflexes were all self-engaged as he ran up on the dragon at a full run. Dodging his tail somewhat the dragon hadn't realized Tram was so close behind him.

   The dragons back side would have been an easy target but looked to be studded with red, green and blue rounded bone hard studs. If he was to kill this monster it would be easier from the under-side. How he was going to keep from being crushed to death is something he would have to deal with when the time came but at the least he knew he was about to cause a great deal of discomfort for the creature.

   Tram was still delighted with himself in the fact that he had killed a dragon.

   The dragon acted as if he hadn't felt a thing when Tram first rammed his sword up into the lower bowels of the monster and pushed forward partly gutting the beast.

   He'd nearly gotten away with it free and clear but the dragon collapsed too suddenly and would have partially crushed him if he'd been wearing his old armor. It would have never stood up to that kind of weight. The blue peen steel armor literally saved him.  He would no doubt stop by the blacksmiths shop and congratulate him on his craftsmanship.   That is if he ever managed to get out from underneath the dragon.

    With hand still on the hilt, he struggled to move the sword back and forth sawing slowly away at the dragon, nearly suffocating on blood and flesh several times.  He even had thoughts he might not make it out from under the monster. Maybe trapped and would have to wait until one of his friends or neighbors happened by, which could be a very long time where he lived and in a comical thought to himself, at least he would have plenty to eat till help eventually arrived.

   It had taken him nearly four hours to slowly cut himself free, while the dragon’s tail still twitched for a good long hour during all this time but there was one very good thing about the situation he was going to have plenty of jerky next winter A journey would have to be made. He would need to go to the   Of course a perso village of Nored. He would need to buy enough salt to pack the meat with. That would be his excuse anyway but the truth of it was, he was eager to do a little bragging of course. Not everyone can say they have even seen a flying dragon, more or less say they have slain one and have proof to back their claim.

n would never be able to use the shortcut in the rainy seasons but at this time of the year and as dry as it had been, the river-bed would be as hard as rock and make a great road to travel. That is unless a freak storm came up, because then it would be very difficult to climb back up the hard steep craggy banks of the Limestone River.

   As he plotted along the river-bed, the thought kept haunting him.  The coincidence of him fighting two such violently fierce creatures both in only a few days passing.

   That dragon could had found a much easier prey then himself to feed upon and the Demon, there's nothing to say about that except he hoped never to lay eyes on it again.  Guessing that dragons don't care what they feed on, Trams thoughts eventually turned away from dragons and demons as he approached the old quarry bridge. The bridge would mark the half way point in his trip to Nored and Tram always took note of that fact but this time there was more of a reason to take heed.

   This time, as he approached the bridge he could make out two figures. One seemed to be taking a nap and the other seemed to be standing guard.

   It was the one standing guard that got most of Trams attention. He was huge; he'd even make most eunuchs look like dwarfs. Which is what he kind of looked like from a distance, like an enormous version of a eunuch but the closer Tram got to the bridge the more he realized that the person lying on the ground wasn't taking a nap at all. It was a maiden bound to a pillar and the guard was one of the biggest, ugliest, foulest, fellows he'd ever seen in his life.

   Wearing a bear skin the creature looked nearly human in form and his darkly baked skin was stretched over muscles, unbelievable in proportion. Two long tusks, longer then a mans finger jutted up from his bottom row of teeth and his lower jaw was massive to where it made the rest of his head look small in comparison.

   He was guessing that this must be an ogre. He had heard of beasts like these and began to wonder to himself how many of his kind there were running about.

   The creature had thick curly black hair on its chest and his small bald skull gave him the look of being of the family of some large ape clan.

   In his clawed hands he wielded a large spiked club and a heavy wooden shield that had a conical spike protruding from the center. His feet were as normal as a human; except for they too were clawed.  

   Tram had already decided he was going to kill this beast for the obvious fact that he abducted the woman with no good intentions. Still he decided he would talk to the fellow first; if for nothing else, to see if the thing was capable of speech.

   Tram pulled his horse up well short of the dangerous looking beast. "I see you have yourself a woman." Tram said in a loud inquiring voice. Tram waited for a response but all that he could hear from the gluttonous beast was a low guttural sound, as the thing kept a weary eye on the halberd Tram had posted to his side.   It almost sounded like the creature was grunting Oren, Oren, Oren. Maybe that was his name. If it was, it was about the only thing it could say.

    "I don't suppose you know that it's unlawful to bind a free person like that. That is if she's not a slave.   Is she?" Still there was no response from the foul brute, other then to shift his feet into a more prowling stance and gripping his club even tighter.

   Tram knew very well she wasn't a slave. There were few slaves in Argonia and the ones there were, were usually of their own accord and you rarely ever seen one bound up. He was just trying to judge the creature’s intelligence. He finally came to the conclusion that his voice probably sounded like a dog barking to the creature.

    Time for chit chat was over with. "Another thing, it's unlawful to camp under bridges in this province." still no response other then threatening gestures. Then the creature took three threatening steps forward.

   Tram took another long look at the bound maiden to make sure she wasn’t some sick minded winch, whom might want him to mind his own business.

   Narrowing his eyes till he looked like an angered eagle he focused dead center on the ogre's shoulders. Not the exact center of weight and leverage but is the center of movement. His opponent’s shoulders would forewarn him of his movements and be the ogre’s last transgression on mankind. 

   Tram urged his horse forward into a full gallop and lowered the halberd like a joust. At the last possible moment Tram would raise the Halberd slightly. Not even the bulk weight of this ogre or his heavy wooden shield would stand up to a charge and weapon like the one Tram was now aiming at the ogres head.

Village Nored

   The dwarf Waldo happened to also be at the blacksmiths shop when Tram arrived. The people of Nored were always glad to see him at the village and Tram was friends with all, however Waldo and the blacksmith Jonston had shared more then just a few dangers and adventures of life.

   Jonston was proud as a rooster to hear Tram brag about his new metal armor, while Waldo rolled his eyes and claimed his cousin could make much better, which in turn got Jonston to roll his eyes and smirk at the thought. The two friends seemed always to be bickering and Tram found them to be comical most of the time but at the moment he was trying to offer an apple to Brawnz, a prized stallion that Tram had given to Johnston. Instead of eating the apple Brawnz threw his head back and turned away from the offer.

   Tram laid the apple on a post of the stall and walked away saying. "I don't blame you Brawnz, I wouldn't like me either." As Tram walked back to his friends he felt the apple hit him in the back. Jonston and Waldo could not help but to have a good laugh at Trams expense.

  Afterwards with apple jack in hand, the three decided to go to the village square to do their talking under the large willow tree where many of tales and idle conversations had been spoken freely. He knew the first thing they would ask about was the maiden that had arrived at the village with him. Anyone could tell she had just experienced something horrible and the ladies of the village whisked her off to be cleaned and comforted before he could even get off his horse.

   As it turned out to be, in the waning hours of last evening, the ogre had came to her father’s farm and caught him outside by surprise and slew him before he could get back inside to his sword. She had told him that the ogre had no trouble knocking her father’s sword from her hands with his club and though she had tried to fight him off, there was no chance of escaping and that's how he nabbed her.

   The ogre carried her away, with no more effort then a man carrying a pillow. Using the dry river-bed he had traveled in this direction all the night long as all the while he looked as if he was weary of being found out.

   The maiden named Marrella said that when the sun started to rise he had taken refuge under the Quarry Bridge, tying her to one of the bridges pillars.

   She said the ogre had spent some time this morning taunting and kicking at her and was about to lay down when he came passing through and then there was the sickening, gory sight of Tram and the horse splitting the ogre through at the head.

   That story the townsmen all had to believe, the story about the demon and the dragon however were granted with spats of doubtful laughter.

    The dragon’s fang he'd brought as proof was explained away as could have been gotten from a land dragon or an ancient bone yard. Tram really didn't care if the townsmen believed him or not they still liked hearing about his escapades and Tram knew it was all the truth. Still, as many different stories he'd told them through out the years, he didn't blame them if they only believed a portion of his claims.

   There had always been something within himself that seemed like a compass that would lead him to the unusual or the bizarre and most likely trouble with it.

   Old story tellers usually became dumbfounded and forgot most of what they know when Tram started relaying his more recent adventures to them.

   Actually he suspected the townsmen believed more then what they disbelieved after all that had happened to the eastern kingdom. Even some of their recent visitors from the east that have passed through looked scary enough to make a person want to bolt the door and hide inside even though it would be full daylight.

    In fact there was a man in the village now that looked as if someone drug him from a grave and left him to soak in a pickle barrel for a season or two. There to buy cloth, herbs and salve and no doubt nursing some poor creature with an injury and may not be such a bad sort but just a glance of the man made Tram want to spit out his drink. 

    Nearly two hours had passed away quickly as time does when folk are having good conversation and as a few of the other villagers had join in on the conversation but Tram was just beginning to wonder of what had become of the peasants daughter when she showed back up carrying a flower.

   Tram had thought she was attractive as it were in a pleasing down to earth way but it was apparent that the ladies of the village had spared nothing in primping and pampering her. One of the ladies even gave her one of her older silken robes and a lass picked her a tulip that seemed to have known it would be one-day accompanying the robe.

   Absolutely beautiful was all Tram could think of at that moment even though it was evident she was still sadden by her latest tragedy. Tram was nearly feeling ashamed of himself now and all the conversation stopped when Marrella with a hint of a pained filled smile asked Tram if he could help her go and bury her father.

Uninvited Mourners

   Johnston and Waldo offered to go with them out of unspoken pity, to help with laying Marrella's father to rest and Tram was grateful for his friend’s assistance as there was no way he could refuse the maidens request.

   There is good advantage of having good friends like these, especially if one is a blacksmith. A change in armor and weaponry was no problem and Jonston was no stranger to their usage himself. So as it were, little time was wasted in getting on the way to the task set before them.

    It had been a quite day’s ride out of respect and about the only thing said were in the nature of an enquiry of the ladies future intentions. She was understandably a little confused at present but was sure she no longer wanted to stay at the farm. 

   Waldo was first to suggest she stay in Nored and it isn't even his home village but he was right, the people of Nored were good people and would probably have it no other way.

    Something inside of Tram wanted him to make another suggestion and that was that she could stay with him at his lodge. Even in her state of troubled grief and sorrow Tram was rapidly becoming attracted to the maiden’s natural mannerisms not to mention the ladies outstanding beauty. However he was not  about to present himself as some fiend of sorts, even though his thoughts at the moment  were only for her best interest but then again maybe it was his best interest he had in mind. Alternatively, he was already conjuring up plausible excuses to see and be with her.

   The three of them knew from experience that her slain Father would not be in any condition for long goodbyes. Fortunately the wolves and wild animals had not yet found the peasants body. So far only the ants had tried to work their devouring skills on him. They had to pry Marrella from her father’s side, convincing her that she should gather her belongings while they prepare him his grave. Wrapping him up in an oxen’s hide and digging the grave where she wanted him to be laid, they gently covered him over with dirt and then covered the grave with rocks from a nearby stone wall.

    Both Tram and Jonston were a bit surprised to hear Waldo give such an inspiring speech to the departed peasant. Something along the lines of how from the elements he came and so back to the elements he returns under the ultimate guidance of his ancestors before him and of the Spirits above.

    Tram wondered to himself how-many times the dwarf had said goodbye to loved ones and sent them along on there way to those spirits. He always thought it was a wonderment that someone could have so many good things to say about a person they couldn't have possibly even known. He supposed that there was a certain amount of the same feelings in all of us that would account for this ability. That’s what Tram was mulling on when the three horsemen seemed to appear out of nowhere. Staring down at them from the hill top a little further then an arrow shot away.

   The three men if that was what they were had seemed to have so much evil emitting from their very being that they and their horses looked to be killing the very grass they stood upon.

    Trying not to disrupt the girl in her most grievous moment, Tram nonchalantly pointed out the horsemen to his companions and whispered "Friends of yours, Waldo?"

   Tram had barely gotten the words spoken when a birdlike form came darting from the sky with apparent suicidal thoughts in mind. The vulture would have missed Tram by less then an arms-length which proved to be a big mistake in judgment for the foul fowl. Tram reflexively threw a left jab that caught the vulture in the mid-section and knocked it tumbling into the nearby brush.

   Needless to say that whatever drove it to its temporary madness departed and it struggled to find the senses to do the same.

   It almost appeared to the three of them that the crazed vulture had full intentions of plucking the key from the top of Marrella's cedar chest and to rob her of access to her only possessions. Tram had heard of animals being attracted to shiny objects but that was getting way too carried away with an obsession.

   Marrella was not overly shocked in the surprised visit of the horsemen only the poor timing of it and the fact that there had always been four of them in the past.   She explained that they came by from time to time but always stared from a distance and had never caused them any difficulties. On the contrary they have seemed to have warded off potential trouble makers.

   Neither her or her father knew who they were or anything about them nor the reasons for their interest in their simple family ways but in any case the family had gotten immune to their scary arrivals and in any case, all they could do is keep a weary eye on their uninvited guests.

    As Marrella stared back ungratefully at the three hooded riders, one of them casually turned his head as if he could see something in the far distance. Then all three abruptly turned and rode away.

Kings Summons

   As it turned out, the reason for the abrupt departure of the three horsemen was no doubt due to the arrival of troopers of a garrison from Bulen. They had been dispatched and instructed to escort the maiden, her property and anyone who might be with her to Hamborg. With their consent or not they were to be brought to the Royal Palace but for some unexplained reason it appeared that their main concern of safety was centered on the cedar chest of Marrella’s.

   Throughout the whole of the journey to the Kings palace the four of them could only give each other and the chest inquisitive glances.  If their curiosity wasn’t strong before about what might be in the cedar chest, they were certainly getting that way at every step of the way. 

   Questions bounced about in their minds. Such as, was there stolen property of the Kings in the chest? Had the peasant amassed a fortune, and now every-body wants it? Maybe the peasant owed back taxes and now the King wants what little the maiden has? Will he have the group killed if he doesn't like what he finds or what he doesn't find in the chest? Was the group headed into slavery or the Kings dungeon? 

   The weary feelings had been eased somewhat after being freshened and supped. The group and the cedar chest was brought to a private study and told that the Royal Highness would be joining them shortly.

   The chamber was adorned with expensive tapestries and furnishings. Maps hung on the walls and row upon rows of shelves, each filled with scrolls lined one wall.

   The usual respective groveling due to Royalty was brief and casual largely because Marrella rightly recognized the Kings soothsayer as a friend of her fathers. The man named Winikkarr was wearing red robes with golden hieroglyphs lining the hem. Tram recognized the hieroglyphs as being of the Ainu in origin, a sect that worship the spirits and this meant that the man was likely a wizard or worse a priest of the Ainu. Being that there are three kinds of wizards, those who dabble with alchemy, those who dabble with mechanisms, and those who conjure up spirits. Tram concluded that this one at the very least dabbled with spirits, evil spirits, if he was a priest of the Ainu.

   Tram himself piddled around with some potions and gadgetries but had found no use for spirits and didn't trust anyone who did.

   While the wizard and maiden consoled each other over the recently departed peasant, the King addressed Tram. "So I finally meet the famous Tram of Celtar. Oh, and by the way I like the name of that little plot of land you call a province, Celtar, I like it." Tram looked as if he was about to fall over backwards "I knew not Your Royal Highness had even heard of me."

   The King raised an eyebrow "Are you trying to tell me you no not of your own stories, don't you know your a legend?   Even distant Kingdoms have heard of you."

    Slowly Tram responded with a quizzical tone in his voice "I thought I was barely known in various local areas, Sire."

   The King looked down at his beard with a slight grin that gave him a youthful look to his smooth but aged face.    "I suppose your wondering why I've never summoned you here before or why you haven't been asked to the Knights Council or why I haven't extracted taxes from you?"  "Because I'm too poor to tax, Sire?"

    After the King laughed a good bit, King Moran explained to Tram that it was mans main nature to gather property unto themselves, that only slaves had nothing that can be taxed, and then the King explained why he was never inducted into the Council of the Knights. "The cold stone fact is you’re a cheap outpost Tram. Otherwise I'd have to muster a company out where you reside. You’re kind of a cushion, a buffer from rogues and intrusions in that portion of the Kingdom.

    I even moved my boundary markers back from that area so you see your not even part of my Kingdom.  I did that for two reasons, one to keep the Publicans and Tax Scribes from trying to tax you, and I hope you appreciate that."  And Tram did. 

  "Secondly if you happen to start a war or create an incident in your doings, the kingdom can truthfully deny any interest in you. Of course in a case like that we would be hoping the best for you but we couldn't possibly come to your aid of course. That is unless you actually lost the land, then we would have to forcibly object."

   The King also had a third reason for not wanting Tram in the ranks of the leadership of the kingdom but he certainly wasn't going to tell Tram what that reason was. As popular as his name had become, Tram could feasibly be a threat to his sovereignty.

   Tram had always wondered about the neglect to collect taxes from him but he hadn’t realized he was under no protection what-so-ever, other then the support of his many friends and few neighbors.

   After King Moran let his statements soak in for a few moments, he continued.   "I'm guessing that you all are wondering why you were summoned here today. It all has to do with what is inside that cedar chest.” The Kings statement left more questions then answers and Tram was quick to ask the first-one that came to mind.

"How is it, your Royal Highness would come to know what is inside a peasants cedar chest?"  "Don't be a buffoon Tram, I have seen what's inside of it but before Princess Marrella opens it, perhaps it would be best if my confidant explained a few things."
   Princess? It took a moment or two for the Kings last statement to sink in and when it did Marrella looked as if she had just fallen from a tree and was led to a chair to be seated. Tram, Jonston and Waldo looked at each other not knowing what to think. They had been two days with the maiden with not an inkling of an idea that she was Royalty and evidently neither did she.

    "It saddens me to tell you this way" Winikkarr said "but the truth is, you are a Princess without a kingdom."  Then he began to give a full account of the fall of the kingdom of Coradda.

  “There had been an alliance of four cults and the four high priests were hungry for the power to control as many people as they were able to. They strived for more and more power over the people as so many leaders do. What made them so successful is that, they had become so crafty at lies and deceptions. They had convinced their followers, that their lives were in corruptive shambles under the leadership of King Negley.  The truth of it was they couldn’t have asked for a more prosperous life. 

   Even though the followers were only a third of the population, they had been worked up into an illogical fanaticism that was not to be over-come. Those same followers had once been good people but to be immersed in their immorality they would naturally have to convince themselves that right was wrong and wrong was right. This sort of thinking could only lead to a self induced insanity that made them gullible to anything that was told them.

   In those final days King Negley had the good sense of judgment to send his son and his son’s wife and their child away accompanied by me and a troop of the Royal Guard.

   He had suggested to your father that they should go to King Moran and ask for refuge till the trouble in Coradda was over. King Moran had been gracious in granting them asylum here in Argonia.

   Though King Moran was pleased to give them refuge, he thought it best for his own Kingdom that your father and his family should remain secret and so they were given land in a remote but safe place in the Kingdom.

   Back in Coradda a few days had passed when a rumor that the King was sending all the Kings treasures to foreign lands. This gave a mob an excuse to storm the Palace killing King Negley and his Queen they then pillaged the Palace then burned it. 

   King Negley and Queen Jezrella were your grand parents. Your father was that son that was sent away.

   The four priests that gained control of Coradda knew absolutely nothing of how to run a kingdom, however they did know how to take a kingdom and in their lust for power and anarchy they tried the same thing in neighboring kingdoms.

   This caused the kingdom of Coradda war upon war then other kingdoms saw how weak Coradda had become and they started sending armies upon armies and there were more wars. When the last battle was done it was only because it had been realized that there was nothing left to fight over.

   In those days it was said in the land of Coradda there was plenty of blood to drink but absolutely no water. Another saying was that the four priests who caused the destruction still live but all the people have been slain.

   Now only demons, monsters and the demented live in Coradda.”  

   "So, what's inside the box?" Tram didn't mean to sound unfeeling as he probably did but other then the account of the Royal Family the story of Coradda was a matter of recent history.

    "A Gods arrow head."  Was King Moran’s direct answer to Trams direct question.

    Waldo, forgetting civility blurted out in a voice that matched his size, "Dee Rainbow Sdone!"

   There was a quite moment before the King affirmed Waldo's guess. Every-one but Marrella the owner of the stone had heard of the legend.

   Her Father, the late Prince Issmond had to know of the legend, he must have kept the story from his daughter for personal reasons. Tram could think of one reason right away. He may not have wanted his daughter to be burdened with revenge, knowing he'd have to explain how he gained possession of the stone.

   Since it was Winikkar himself along with other top minds in the land of Coradda that were the ones that had discovered the stone, it only made sense that he was the one to tell Marrella the story of the stone and how she come to be the owner of it.

   The legend and the fact was that in the early days of the moral decline of Coradda, the depravity began and was centered in and around the city of Agassara. The people of Agassara had become so vile; there was nothing they would not do.

   Winikkarr did not wish to assault the Princess ears by telling her the full extent of the depravity of Agassara. Murder, rape, child sacrifices, and lewd behavior to put it mildly were just a portion of their doings.

   He went on to say that “On the day that Agassara was utterly destroyed, eye witnesses from a great distance claimed that a rainbow had appeared in the sky and a streak of light shot forth from it like an arrow and that was what struck Agassara. A blast, a tumult and whirlwinds followed, so much so that they feared they would be destroyed also.

   I and several other advisors along with a company of troops were immediately sent by the King to investigate. When we got to where Agassara use to be, we found a great hole still smoldering and not one identifiable work of man or even a single breath of life.

   The workers were instructed to dig in the very center of the great hole to see if they could find any trace of what caused the disaster and after three days of digging they found what should be now laying in that very cedar chest, the Rainbow Stone.”

   "Then the Rainbow Stone really does exist?" Jonston asked.

   Instead of answering Jonston's question Winikkar went on to say, “the stone, the Kings signet ring and a few royal robes were sent with Prince Issmond for safe keeping.  Your Father kept these things in hopes that someday the Kingdom would be reborn under the rightful heirs of his bloodline. Even though it seemed a hopeless dream, he thought somehow, someday, that the stone would be important in the recovery of the kingdom."

   Waldo’s eyes showed the excitement of the thought that he would actually get to see the legendary stone. "Is id magical, as legend tells of id?"

   Winikkarr eyed the dwarf with a bit of suspicion before he responded "It does have some unusual qualities but none so far that would be very useful.

   For some that handle the stone it gives the bearer a since of agonizing guilt, for some it does absolutely nothing and for others it would seem to give out a faint glow.

   Those of us that investigated the stone came to the conclusion that the more the bearer was in righteous fearlessness the more the stone glowed for them."  

   Tram soon realized that Winikkar and the King were starring straight into his eyes as if they were looking into a well trying to make out what might be hidden within the depths and soon everyone in the room was staring at him.

The end of pt. 1