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Cordyere had two, summer and fall. Right now the trees would be bearing fruit, and the weather would

be warm. The priest pushed the memories of his home away and continued his walk along the icy frozen

rampart. Those thoughts wouldnt bring any comfort here. To his left, the rampart fell one hundred feet

to the frozen lake below, and beyond that the winter world opened up before him, ending in the

distance with the massive mountains that made the Crown of the World. If not for the icy wind, the

priest would have enjoyed the spectacular view, but the condition of the parapet demanded his

attention. Morzak took every step carefully. One slip upon these icy stones would mean death. But

death would not find him today. Morzak crossed the rampart and pulled open the ornate wooden door

that marked the entry into Wralgars private tower.

Morzak, a fifty summers priest had been chosen for this duty. He wasnt the first priest to be sent to the

Jarreg people, but he was the first to survive, and remain amongst them. Five had been sent before.

Three were immediately killed at the gates, their heads upon frozen spikes, and two had been slaved to

death in the cold mines. Outlanders were not tolerated. The first five were simple priests, Morzak was

not. Morzak was a Philbellic, a military scholar, a priest that specialized in war. Upon arriving at the

gates of the Jarreg kingdom, he immediately called out a challenge to any that heard him. The one thing

that the wild people respected above all else was courage, and so they answered his challenge. One by

one, ten warriors came to face Morzak. He studied each opponent carefully, his dissecting green eyes

finding weaknesses in each of his foes. His strong stoic face with trimmed black beard showed no fear,

and his ornate red plate armor echoed that sentiment. In his left hand he held a steel kite shield with

the Orders phoenix emblem emblazed upon it, and his right brandished his long war mace.

Morzak knew how the barbarians fought. They were people of strength, and legendary rage. Jarregs

fought in fits of madness until they were either dead, or exhausted, and Morzak expertly used this

against them. Behind his shield and strong armor, the priest weathered the initial storm of blows, and

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then crushed the warriors once exhaustion gripped them. When all ten had lain dead in the frozen earth

at his feet, he was granted entry, and acceptance. Since that day none had challenged him. To the Jarreg

people Morzaks strength was without question.

Morzak passed through Wralgars room which was strangely void of bestial trophies . The Yorguurs fur

was the only trophy Wralgar needed. It was his crown. The legendary beast had been the bane of the

Jarreg people for two centuries. It was a monstrous yeti that hunted men for food, and if you saw its

polar white fur and black eyes, it meant your death. Hundreds had tried to kill it, and hundreds had died.

The mere thought of facing the beast turned most away. But Wralgar was different. It was said that

Wralgar sang the beast to death. The mere notion of this perplexed Morzak beyond imagination, but

whenever he inquired about the deed he received the same answer, Wralgar sang it to death. He didnt

fight it with weapons, he dueled the monster with his voice. And it was for that very deed that Wralgar

was made king. Jarreg chose the strongest among them as their leader, and whether Wralgar wanted it

or not, he was now king, and would continue to be until he was replaced by a stronger warrior. But the

more Morzak learned of the strange barbarian the more he became sure that that event would never

happen.

Wralgars room had been sparse before the priests arrival, consisting of a bed with a chest at its foot,

and a fireplace. Now, however, several bookshelves lined the walls, with ancient and modern tomes

ranging from the sciences to ancient history and philosophy. For a Jarreg, reading was unheard of, but

for Wralgar it had become a way of life. Morzak had infinitely expanded the horizons of the barbarians

mind, and each night since the priests arrival the two would meet and Morzak would share a new tale

with Wralgar. Tonight would prove no different.

Morzak passed through Wralgars room and out onto the balcony beyond where the view was even

more impressive than the perilous perch on the icy rampart. From the comfort of the balcony the world

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awaited the eyes. The mountains soared in the distance and the frozen lake below gave way to the cold

blue rivers that spread upon the earth as if they were veins. The Jarreg waited near a small fire at the

center of the balcony, staring off into the frozen world. As long as the fire stayed lit, the bite of winter

would be abated. Wralgar sat in his usual spot across the fire from Morzak, in his carved wooden chair.

Upon seeing the priest, he pried his eyes away from the view and reached under his seat, producing a

leather pouch. Wralgar reached into the pouch and brought forth a handful of purple powder that

spilled from his hand like sand from a broken hourglass and reached towards the fire. Before he could

disperse the powder into the flames Morzak stopped him with an outstretched hand.

Not tonight Wralgar. Tonight we are going to try something new. I believe you are ready. Morzak said

as he took his seat beside the fire, pulling his furred shroud around him. A curious look crossed the

strong barbarians face as he returned the powder to the pouch.

There will be no visions in the fire tonight? Wralgar said with a strong steady voice that was both deep

and melodic.

No, tonight I want you to use your mind to create images. I want you to see them as you would have

them, not from my interpretations. I want you to visualize every detail, feel every emotion. I want you to

be a part of the story. Use your imagination tonight Wralgar, for it is one of the most powerful tools a

man can have.

The barbarian sat back in his chair, thinking for a moment, then leaned forward, eager for the challenge.

Morzak reached into his satchel and pulled from it a massive tome. Upon the cover of the impossibly old

red book and runed in gold were two words: The Hecarod . There would never be another tome like it

in existence, as there never had been before. The Hecarod had endless pages, and the book wrote itself.

Epic events worthy of remembrance simply appeared in the great novel, and would continue to for the

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rest of time. How this happened was unexplainable. Where the tome came from was unknown. Who

was the writer? None of this was known. What was known however was that kings would sell their

kingdoms to have the book, and that it had changed hands countless times in history. Men had gone

mad seeking it, and wars had been waged over it. And now Morzak, a priest from Cordyere held it. He

opened the book as if it were any other novel, and turned the pages to a story he had read before.

The light from the fire danced across the pages. I want you to sit comfortably in your chair Wralgar, and

close your eyes. The Jarreg did as he was asked, and sat with his eyes closed, reclining in his carved

chair, the Yorguurs hide closed around him.

Tonight we are going to read a story about the weight of ideals, and how they can both free and

burden a man. We will learn how an ideal can mean more than all the riches of the world, and less than

air we breathe. Tonight, I read to you the story of the Scholar and the Knight

The caravan ground to a halt as Julian pulled back on the reins of the horses. They whinnied in protest

but calmed after a moment. With adventurous eyes, the young scholar looked back at the caravan

behind him. Six wagons, overflowing with supplies, twenty horses carrying packs, and forty men

prepared for exploring. After three years of waiting Julian was finally at the edge of the mysterious and

dangerous DrakMar jungle. Before him it loomed like an endless wall of green, tall and foreboding,

hiding ancient secrets, forgotten cities, and untold adventure. He could hardly wait. It had taken him

three years of badgering his father before the man gave in. His father, a wealthy merchant in the arcane

city of Tolgrad had refused him flatly upon each previous request, saying that his quest was a fools

errand, for only fools believed in the myth of the Serpents Hoard. But after delving through dozens of

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ancient tomes, Julian had found a map hidden in Tolgrads old and unused undercity. The map was

incredibly old and fashioned in an ancient language. The parts that were still legible gave what appeared

to be precise locations of cities hidden within the concealment of the impenetrable jungle. And so

Julians father could no longer ignore his adventurous sons request. The map was real, so perhaps, so

was the treasure. Two weeks later, Julian had the financing for his voyage and the entourage to follow

him. And now before him, the jungle awaited. He shook with anticipation.

Julian leapt from the wagon, holding the leather short brimmed hat to his head to keep his brown messy

mop from falling out. He landed in a cloud of dust that quickly covered the tailored brown and green

vest that he was wearing. The scholar brushed the dust from his vest and then wiped his hands on his

pants. A determined smile crossed his young face. We will make camp here tonight, and then

tomorrow, its into DrakMar!!

Later that night, the group surrounded a series of fires set in the middle of the caravan. Wagons had

been corralled around the edges of the camp, with horses tied inside the ring for protection from any

feral animals waiting in the darkness. Songs from minstrels or drunken men filled the night, and any

silences were quickly abated with laughter. Julian and a group of other young aristocrats sat amongst

themselves, separate from the rest of the caravan. Rather than sit on crates or the ground, the group

had their servants arrange plush chairs around the fire while drinks were brought to them. They laughed

hysterically as they moved from one object of interest to the next.

I bet that man there, sitting by the fat o ne, is impotent, laughed Raold, who was overly dressed and

sitting next to Julian.

And the one next to him is no better than a beggar. I swear, did we hire him straight from the crags?

Julian replied, barely able to finish the statement without laughing.

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Where did you find this sorry lot Julian? The group continued on, going from one man to the next,

each description and statement crueler than the last. Just when they thought their entertainment had

been exhausted they d spied another man, sitting alone and away from the fires. He sat at the edge of

caravan ring staring off towards the jungle, an obvious pariah. The man appeared at least thirty five

summers old, and might have been inspiring if not for the scar on his right cheek. A shadow of a beard

graced his chin, and short balding blonde hair retreated from his forehead. His eyes at one time might

have been strong, but now they only told a mournful tale. Of the entire group, he was the only one

wearing armor.

That man, sitting over there, who is he? Raold asked

They call him Kasdan, Julian said passively as he tumbled two gold coins in his hand. He picked one

and flicked it into the fire. He is an Ignavus. You cant see it from here but the mark of the coward is on

his right cheek. My father insisted that we bring someone who has been to the DrakMar before,

someone that knows the land. He was the onl y person my fathers servants could find. They must have

been idiots.

Its better to die a man than to live a coward, Berand spoke with a scowl, the stocky aristocrat sitting

opposite of Julian. Berand spun a beautiful gem encrusted sword in his hand; of the three young men he

was clearly taller and more athletic than the rest. I would have fallen on my sword before I let anyone

brand me a c oward.

Supposedly he was some type of knight before. I cant fathom how. Knights are the epitome of

bravery. Julian spit into the fire with disgust. I would never die a coward. Julian then stood and

motioned to his fellows for silence, the alcohol strong in his veins . Let us here and now make a pact! On

our first true journey together! That we, as men, will never become a wretch like him. That we will

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always lead from the front and be brave! Til glory or death! The three young men all rose, drank deeply

and joined their glasses together, then spilled the remains into the fire. The next morning the caravan

broke camp, and began their journey into the DrakMar.

True to their vow, the three aristocrats led from the front the following morning. Julian was dressed all

in green, with a wide brimmed hat. Berand followed likewise, but with brown and short sleeves and

shorts. Roald kept to his finery, and wore garments that would be fit for audience. The jungle was unlike

anything they had ever seen. All of the creatures were colorful beyond reasoning, and stranger than

stories held. The ambiance was incredible, hundreds of flying birds and lizards sang out to them.

Massive trees stretched up into the heavens before them, and each contained their own world of

inhabitants. Like conquering warlords, they marched through DrakMar. They cut swaths through the

jungle with their jeweled blades, felling limbs and small trees, and scaring miscreant animals into terror.

They roared challenges to imaginary foes, and with each step they tamed more of the wilderness. What

mighty warriors they truly were.

After half a days journey they reached the first obstacle in their path. A decrepit stone and wooden

bridge hung perilously over a river that roared eighty feet below. The jungle had taken the bridge as its

own. The structure appeared to be supported more by thick vines strangling it than by the corroding

stones that were on their last legs. It was immediately understood that any fall from this bridge would

mean certain death in the tumultuous waters below. As the young men discussed conquering the

bridge, Kasdan rode to the head of the caravan. He was in full armor.

My Lords, if I may make a suggestion, Kasdan said humbly.

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And what would a co ward have us do hmm? Shy away, perhaps turn tail? Do you wear all that armor

because DrakMar is about to get you? Berand spat. The aristocrats laughed. The insults had no effect

on the man.

Well then , Ignavus tell us your plan, Julian said dismissively before Kasdan even had a chance to speak.

Kasdan spoke, but he already knew the reception he would receive. Your father paid me to give you

council so I shall. We should continue upstream and find a place to ford the river. The bridge will not

last. It will collapse. As Kasdan f inished the jungle came alive, as if it had its own retort. The multitude

of varying avian creatures cried out in challenge to the three young men, as if taunting them to cross

here and now.

Do you see there Julian! Berand said , pointing beyond the bridg e. The jungle calls to us, challenges us!

No, we will not turn our heads! We must cross , Berand roared confidently.

Eager to prove his courage Julian answered to the call. We cross!

Very well, My Lords, the fallen knight said with a clear look of disa ppointment on his face. He turned

his horse and returned to his place in the caravan.

The wagons crossed one at a time, with the three leading on horse. As the wagon rolled forward the

ancient bridge groaned in protest, and shuddered, but did not give way. The first wagon successfully

crossed the bridge. The confidence of the three swelled. The others began to follow suit. Each time a

wagon crossed, the bridge would groan and shudder until it reached the other side. Four wagons

successfully crossed the bridge. After crossing, Kasdan stood near the edge of the cliff, inspecting the

bridge. The fifth one began its crossing. As it rolled forward the bridge replayed its agonized song. When

the wagon neared the end of the bridge a great crack resounded throughout the immediate area. The

horses pulling the vehicle stopped in their tracks and looked up towards the three, as did the riders.

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Run!! Kasdan roared. But it was too late. The bridge collapsed. Beams snapped like twigs and stone

crumbled into dust as the ruin shuddered and died, descending into the roaring waters. The three

looked on in horror as the wagon and its riders smashed into the chaos below and disappeared beneath

the waves. The jungle erupted into laughter, creatures screaming in primal joy. There was nothing the

three could say; they just stood there, stunned. Kasdan silently mouthed a prayer for the dead.

It was decided that the final wagon would remain behind, and await their return. The caravan pushed

onward. A day later the path grew tighter and the wagons had to be abandoned. The group continued

the journey on horseback and foot.

After five hard days of traversing the jungle, the caravan reached another river and that evening, they

decided to camp by it before fording it the next day. Kasdan steered his horse out of the tight jungle

path and down towards the river. The pack horse was covered in sweat, and frothing at its mouth. The

heat of the jungle was getting to it. Kasdan wiped the sweat and grime from his brow and then climbed

down off the horse. He loosened the straps on his armor and breathed a sigh of relief. The inside of his

breastplate was like an oven that was slowly cooking him, and he felt almost finished. Kasdan grabbed

the horse by its reins and led it towards the river.

Smoothed rocks and pebbles slipped beneath his boots as he neared the shore, making the choice of

each step an important one. His horse didnt have the same problem , its hooves easily moved through

the rocks, its steps solid. When he reached the shore, Kasdan bent down on his knees and cupped the

cool river water into his hands and then splashed it on his face and through his hair. The cold liquid

shocked him for a moment as it ran down his face and into his armor, but then the sensation drifted

away as it relaxed the heat on his skin. Next to him his horse dipped its head into the water and drank

deeply, its powerful neck muscles flexing as it quenched its thirst. Kasdan scooped more handfuls of

water and spread them over his faithful steed. The horse whinnied in approval. Kasdan leaned down and

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gathered more crystalline water into his hands bringing it to his mouth, and then abruptly stopped. The

water spilled through his fingers. In the corner of his eye, something had just moved in the water,

something big. A large brown and red striped dorsal fin emerged from the surface of the calm pool as it

headed towards the tired knight. Sharks Then the seriousness of the situation began to dawn on

him.

This is a feeding pool Kasdan swiftly rose to his feet and pulled his horse safely from the shore. The

heat and the exhaustion had distracted his senses, but now his mind snapped into a trained focus. The

loose rocks around the shore would send any helpless fool crashing into the quickly deepening waters.

And the rapids at the far end of the crystal pool were a trap. Any beasts caught in the white waters

would be too tired to swim away once they had been dumped into the pool. And thats where the

monsters would patiently wait for their prey, in the deep dark water. The dorsal fin disappeared into the

dark without causing a ripple.

Kasdan looked over his shoulder back towards the camp where the entourage were setting up tents and

preparing fires for the night. He knew what would happen if they stayed here, but he also understood

exactly what the three were going to say to him.

Julian, Berand and Roald stood in a circle laughing as they watched their servants stumble about while

trying to erect the large canvas tent. The unfortunate souls were having difficulty setting the heavy poles

for the middle and exterior walls. The hidden rocks beneath the sand repeatedly denied the servants as

they dug holes for the supports.

Hurry now you fools! My clothes must be changed , and washed, and that cant be done if m y abode

isnt prepared! For gods sakes! Roald bit each word as he unleashed the torrent. Of the three, Roald

was the only one who had refused to change his attire. As he put it, Its not right for us to dress as

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commoners. Let them keep their rags. Thr oughout the entire trek, Roald had been dressed in ballroom

finery. Roald was about to continue his tirade against his poor servants when Kasdan reluctantly

interrupted him.

My Lords, Kasdan said with a bow.

And what do you want coward! Roald spat with venom. Can you not see that we are busy here?

The other two laughed as they watched Roalds tantrum unfold.

Kasdan sighed. I apologize, My Lord. But this is important.

Oh I am quite sure it is Ignavus, otherwise you would have continued to sulk and cry by yourself instead

of cursing us with your presence! So tell us our next doom! Is the jungle still out to get us?

Kasdan steeled himself, and his face betrayed no emotions. My Lords, the river should be avoided, by

all. There are sharks in the deep pool.

Oh no! The Ignavus is afraid of the water as well?! What shall we do?! Berand chuckled with sarcastic

surprise. After all three had a short laugh on Kasdans expense Berand spoke once more. Leave us

coward. Roald has a fit to continue and I do wish to see it!

Kasdan turned and left towards his horse as the servants finished erecting the canvas tent. The sun

disappeared behind the jungle mountains and the camp settled in for nightfall. Roalds bickering

continued.

Roald settled into his extravagant tent and relaxed on his cot as one of his servants brushed his shoulder

length black hair. The servant caught a knot in his hair. Oww, you fool! Do you want to be whipped?!

The servant shook his head in fear. Then continue ! And do not fuss my hair again!

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The aristocrat was dressed in his bed clothing, which consisted of ivory white long underwear and a

matching shirt. He hated being in the tent. It wasnt his fathers palace, and for that someone would

have to pay. His ornate red and gold sewn clothes laid on the cot beside him, in desperate need of

cleaning. Come now servants! My clothes need washing! Roald clapped his hands twice and two

anorexic servants jumped to his bidding. They were exhausted. Take my effects down to the river and

scrub them clean. If they are not returned to me clean then you will not eat again tonight? Am I

under stood?

Yes mlord, the men replied. The two collected Roalds clothes and hurried to the river.

While one prepared the clothes for washing the other lit a small fire so that they could see. Once the fire

was fully lit it sent a dancing shadow across the pond. T he servants began washing Roalds clothes. They

stood in waist deep water and laid Roalds clothes on a nearby rock as they switched between the sets.

Wilbur, the younger of the two vigorously scrubbed Roald s vest . I do hopes we gets tah eat t nigh. I

havn eatn days. Why is tha lord so cruel?

Hush up, an finish tha lords vest. If wes dont get dun in time well be whipped and starvin. Then Il be

wippin ya. Tum the older servant replied.

Wilbur doubled down on the vest. He scrubbed with purpose and hunger, and the fear of being

whipped. He had almost finished the vest when a nearby splash startled him.

Oi! What was that?

Nuthin. Finish yer clothes.

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Wilbur looked around, scared for a moment, and then continued with his chore. He finished the vest

and put it on the rock. Next he grabbed the breeches and began soaking them. Something brushed his

leg.

Oii! Tum! Sumthin just brushed me leg!

Boi I said hush up! Am I gona have tah bea -

Tum managed to eke out a short squeal before he was dragged into the dark water.

TumTUM?! Wilber scrambled out of the water, spilling Roalds fine clothes all into the pond. In the

middle of the pond water stirred and bubbles floated to the top. They were quickly joined by a severely

mauled leg.

Wilber screamed. The camp came to life quickly as men lit torches and filed out of tents. Kasdan burst

from his tent without his armor but with bastard sword in hand, and the three aristocrats shortly after.

Wilbur continued to scream while at shore, switching between cries of Tum and other unintelligible

words. A commotion stirred in the water. Before Kasdan could even utter a warning, the water surged

and a brown and red dorsal fin exploded from the deep, dark water. Propelled by its strong tail, the

striped shark burst from the water and nearly landed on top of screaming Wilbur. The terrified servant

stumbled backwards, just out of the reach of the bone snapping jaws. The shark locked its soulless black

eyes on Wilbur and continued to chomp towards him, throwing rocks and sand everywhere, but its meal

was just out of reach. Wilbur let out a sadistic laugh as he realized his fortune. And then the shark s jaws

protruded a full foot from its skull and smashed around Wilburs upper chest and head with a sicken ing

crunch. The shark crunched its jaws on Wilburs corpse twice more, severing his upper body from his

lower with gnashing clashes of its maw, and then rolled into the water. The predator disappeared

beneath the dark water, a trail of intestines and blood flowing from its mouth. All the camp had left of

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Wilbur was his horribly torn lower body and a pool of intestines the shark hadnt been able to get. The

legs began to twitch, kicking rocks and sand about. Roald shrieked.

My clothes! Those cretins left my clothes in the water! Those worthless slaves! Roald looked around

with panic. You worthless servants! Go get my clothes!! When none of his shocked servants moved

Roald screamed even louder. Go get my clothes or Ill have you whipped till youre bloody! The

servants began to slowly move, until a voice objected.

You can not be serious! Kasdan said with force, stepping between the servants and Roald , his blade

held at his side. Relief crossed each one of the servants petrified faces. Roald stuttered his next words.

The ... Then... Then you go get them youyouyou coward! You are worthless as it is! Go get them!

Quiet, Roald! Berand interrupted, easily silencing the smaller noble. Forget your damn rags! No one is

going to go in after them. They were ugly anyway, almost as ugly as your two slaves. Even if I would like

to see the Ignavus disappear beneath the water he obviously will not do it. Not quit your damn crying!

Youve been doing it all day!

Roald looked on the verge of tears as he ran back to his tent. The night drew on without further

incident. In the morning, instead of screams Roald cheered in victory. One of his wardrobes had washed

ashore. He immediately sent a servant to retrieve it. As the group prepared to break camp it was noticed

that three horses and two men had disappeared in the night. Rumors of desertion ran wild through the

camp. Morale began to fall.

Days later the caravan met an impasse. The trail through the jungle ended at the foot of a series of

enormous hills that stretched beyond the horizon. The foliage ahead was thicker and far wilder than the

path that they had left behind. It was understood that to proceed forward, the group would literally

have to forge a new path through the hills. The journey ground to a halt.

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Well wh ere the hell do we go now? This has been a damn goose chase, Julian ! Berand threw his

jeweled blade into the dirt in disgust.

Just give me a moment Berand. This map has to have something. There has to be a way forward.

Julian ran his fingers through his hair as he inspected the map lying on a nearby rock. He gripped his hair

with both hands and pulled on it, almost tearing out clumps.

Roald stood nearby, a small chuckle escaped from his lips . Look whos having a great day now. Julian

shot him a cross look.

We could just cut our way through. It would take more time. Possibly weeks, or even a month, but

eventually we would make it through.

Id rather not, Julian. As much as I love romping through this damn jungle I would rather be home.

Berand leaned down and picked up his blade, returning it to its scabbard.

Julian could feel the adventure unraveling before his very eyes. He couldnt let it end here. He refused to

go home empty handed. The Serpents Hoard would be his. There could be another way, b ut I have no

idea of knowing whether it is still there or not.

What is it? Berand thumbed the pommel of his sword while it was in its scabbard.

A cave, and its not far from here. According to the map, if we just continue to go up this hill, we should

run right into it. How does that sound?

Anything that gets me out of this damn pest infested jungle sounds excellent.

Then the cave it is. Julian couldnt have worn a larger smile.

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Hours later and halfway up the overgrown mini mountain, they came upon the cave. Hundreds, if not

even thousands of years ago, the entrance to the cave must have been quite ornate. The remains of

impressions in stones and carvings as well as monoliths littered the entrance. But time had warn away

the illustrations and all that could be seen now were lumps and smoothed stones.

And there it is. I told you it was here Berand! Right where I said it would be. Julian stuck his chest out.

You got lucky, Julian. I guess I wont be getting your family fortune when your father dies now. You

need it more than I do anyways. Julian scoffed at the notion. The two started to debate about whose

father and family had more money.

Kasdan watched wit h a grim face. They didnt understand the danger they were about to undertake.

How could they? They had never been in a position like this before. Kasdan looked into the blackness of

the cave, and clutched the bastard sword at his side. He had to try. He had to say something.

My Lords. The cave is not the best option. Your map, My Lord, is ancient. The chances of the paths

below still being intact and navigable would be miraculous. It is also extremely easy to get lost in the

darkness of an underground passage , especially when you havent seen light for days, or even weeks .

One could move in circles for days and not even know it. You wouldnt even have to try to lose your life

down there. It would happen before you even realized it. The smart choice, the wise choice, would be to

forge a path through the hills and bypass the caves all together, to stay in the light of the sun. We could

even stay mounted this way and would not have to traverse the jungle on foot upon reaching the other

side.

Berand and Julian looked at each other, and then burst into laughter. Roald followed suit but with far

less enthusiasm than the two. He looked shaken.

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You are good for a laugh Ignavus. You never fail at that, well, being a coward that is. You will always be

that. Come along now, into the dark you big coward. Berand marched forward nonchalantly and Julian

quickly stepped to join his side. Roald held back for a moment, still visibly shaken, and then walked after

the two.

I tried Kasdan silently mumbled.

Two days later, the group was hopelessly lost in the labyrinth beneath the earth.

Which way now captain? Sh ould we go left? Should we go right? Or should we sit on our asses a little

longer while we wait for you to decide? Julian tapped his foot as he waited for an answer.

Captain says for little Julian to be qui et while Captain takes care of all the work. Berand stood at the

fork between the two passages, considering each route. The best answer for this, Berand said with a

dramatic spin back towards the group, Is to take both paths.

What kind of idiotic answer is that? Julian laughed.

Come closer, let captain show you the way. When Julian stood next to Berand, Berand leaned in close

to him and spoke softly while pointing down the passages with a torch . If you havent noticed yet, we

are starting to run out of food. The beggars behind us just keep eating and growing fat. If we keep them

all then eventually we will all starve. This way, we can send some of the beggars down one path, and we

can take the other, keeping more food for ourselves. Whether we find them again or not really doesnt

matter. They are peasants I mind you.

Julian stared off into the left passage with a look of disgust. He didnt want to just leave these men to

die, they had followed him faithfully so far, but he understood the situation. It was either them or

everyone. You are right, Berand He had to force the words out.

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Of course I am. Berand turned and spoke to the group. Alright everyone, we are going to be splitting

up. Ten of you are going to be taking the Right passage, and another ten will take the Left. We will wait

her e for your return, which will be when you have found a way back to the surface. Lets get moving.

The ten picked for the right passage seemed scared, and cheated at first. But when they realized they

would be free of the three young men they packed their bags and gladly went.

Kasdan stood and watched as the men disappeared into the Right passage. He mouthed a prayer for

them, hoping that they would find the surface and their freedom from this group.

Now the rest of us, are going to be taking the Left passage. Berand smiled. Stay close; we wouldnt

want anyone to get lost.

Are we not going to wait for tha others mlord, one of the group members asked nervously.

Lets try this. You stay here and wait for them. When we find the surface we will come bac k to get you

and the other group, I swear it. Berand turned and started walking down the Left passage. Everyone

else followed.

Later the next day the group stopped for a break. They had been going hard for the past several hours

and many were tired. We will stop here. Everyone take a break. Julian sat down . The chosen area for

rest was a large open cavern with stalactites hanging from the ceiling and a few reaching up from the

floor. The center of the floor was almost perfectly flat. They hadnt sat for long before Berand was

bored. The athletic man stood and started spinning his jeweled sword in his hand before he lashed out

to cut down invisible foes. Immaterial foes quickly displeased him. He needed something real to strike.

Julian. I have an idea. Lets spar.

I am too tired, Berand.

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Dont be such a girl Julian! What would your father think if he saw you turning down a duel? Ill even

make it quick.

Julian couldnt turn him down now. His honor was on the line. He reached for his jeweled saber at his

side yanked it from the scabbard.

Well see.

The two immediately fell upon each other. Berand barreled at Julian with his long sword, making wide

powerful sweeps that Julian could barely deflect with his saber. The larger man rained down wide

arching blows on his smaller opponent. Each time Julian would barely block the strike before having to

retreat before the stronger man. The two inexperienced fighters quickly exhausted each other, but not

before Julian surrendered.

I yield Berand! I yield. You win. Julian doubled over onto his knees while Berand raised his hands in

victory. But he still didnt feel sated.

Any other challengers? No one spoke. No volunteers hmm? Well then I guess I get to pick. Berands

eyes fell over each of the groups members, including Kasdan, but he would not hold the knights firm

gaze. He passed over Kasdan; he was looking for a weaker foe. One of the men had tried to hide himself

behind the others, but Berand had spotted him. He had an eye for weaklings. You there, stand up and

come attack me. The man hesitated and didnt move. Berand walked over and grabbed the man and

pushed him into the center of the cave and then tossed him a rusty sword. The weakling caught the

blade and shakily held it in front of him.

Defend yourself! Berand attacked the man mercilessly. The weakling raised the rusty sword to block

Berands blow, but Berand was too strong. He knocked the blade from the mans hand and continued to

attack him. Berand brutalized the man. He beat him with the flat of his blade and kicked and punched

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him when he had fallen to the floor in an attempt to defend himself. He would have continued if not for

Julian s intervention.

Berand that is enough! He is obviously beaten. Look at him, youve bloodied him!

So he is beatenI am done. You can go now Berands chest heaved as he inhaled air. The bloodied

man staggered up from the floor and escaped to his hiding place near the wall. Kasdan released his grip

on his sword, his knuckles turning from white to red. He relaxed. A half hour later the group continued

onward into the darkness of the labyrinth.

Six days later, the beleaguered entourage climbed out of the depths of the earth and back into

DrakMar. From here the journey chang ed dramatically. The men began to whisper that the quest was

damned, and if they continued that everyone would die. DrakMar als o changed. The jungle grew dark

and menacing. The trees reached high with foliage so thick that the light from the sun rarely reached the

jungle floor. The cries of the animals now sounded like sadistic laughter hounding their every step. Dark

shapes moved in the shadows, vanishing as quickly as they appeared, and whispering, hateful voices

drifted through the winds. At all times they felt unseen eyes upon them. And the threat of death lurked

behind every shadow. The jungle wanted the three to know something, it wanted to send them a

message. You are not welcome.

One night later, just before the groups breaking point they found the first true ruins of an ancient city,

proof that they were on the right course. A lone, massive vine and moss covered pyramid grew out of

the jungle before them. As they neared the ominous structure, hideous statues of massive reptilian

creatures began to stand out. The most horrifying part of the grotesque monuments was that they were

in humanoid form. But as the group drew closer, the visage became worse. Carvings of slaughter littered

the walls of the ancient temple, the slaughter of humans. Men, women and even children being

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sacrificed to monsters, their hearts and organs ripped out and displayed in ceremony, or being torn

apart and fed upon by the reptiles. Every single mural held a different terrible tale. But the worst carving

held only one image.

At the top of the pyramid the floor leveled out and opened into an enormous area. At one time it may

have been clear, but now trees and mounds of rubble littered the surface. Even at the summit, the

temple was still under the cover of the trees. The worst carving was found on the summit, in the very

center, clear for all to see. Even as terrible as the pyramid was the rest of the temple seemed to shy

away from the lone monolith holding the picture. A depiction of red, hungry eyes stared out from a

black formless visage, and around the visage reptiles covered their eyes in horror, or drowned screaming

in blood. The eyes were lifelike, and stared with ravenous with hunger. Many swore that they even

moved and followed the men as they set about erecting their camp, which took a monumental effort by

the three to convince the poor souls that the drawings were merely the work of primitives, and not to

be feared. Kasdan knew better, and the fear was evident on his face.

Kasdan stood and stared at the monolith. He stared into the red eyes. My Lords, you have turned down

my council at every previous event, but please, I beg you, heed my words now. This place is full of old

dark magic. Terrible magic that is meant to remain sealed. Nothing good can come of this place. Only

death can come from here, I swear it! Please whatever you do, I beg you, do not disturb anything. We

must remain unseen.

Berand turned and regarded Kasdan with disgust. Dear Ignavus do tell me the day your manhood left

you. It must have been a sad day, but yet I am starting to believe that you never were a man. He shook

his head.

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What good is the word of an Ignavus anyway? Roald laughed. The three walked away to see to their

tents.

Kasdan remained silent and continued to stare at the monolith. He had been in ruins like these before.

He had witnessed the horrors of old magics reborn and of the terrors loosed by fools seeking treasure.

His previous life had been an endless torture of moments like these, moments before hell itself was

released. He could only hope that the fools wouldnt find anything here to release

Later that night Julian and the other two aristocrats sat beneath the monolith, studying its features.

There has to be something here Berand. This structure is far too important to just be a pillar, we are

missing something, a vital detail. Julian stood and inspected the structure again for what was almost

the hundredth time, his eyes intent and his concentration focused. The scholar ran his hands over the

face of the stone, feeling for grooves or bumps that would give telling signs.

Let it rest, Julian. Its just an ugly piece of stone, it has no point, Berand replied with boredom clear on

his face. He stood behind Julian, a few feet away with arms crossed in front of him. He had given up on

the statue hours ago.

Roald stood next to Berand, boredom apparent on his face. He threw in his thoughts, trying to sway the

scholar. Julian, I cant sleep knowing that you are out here degrading yourself by pouring o ver this hunk

of dirt. Give it up. We havent drank yet tonight and Im tired and thirsty.

Wait! Julian exclaimed in surprise. Ive found something. Julian slid his nimble fingers into a groove

that barely existed. If he hadnt gone over the area a hundred times he might have missed it, but his

diligence paid off. His fingers gripped onto the edge of a panel of stone that had just a slight enough give

to be noticeable. The stone moved when pressed but Julian quickly found that he didnt have the

streng th to pry it free. Berand, help me with this! The larger scholar quickly moved to help. Berand sat

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on the stone floor and gripped the panel, bracing his legs against the statue to use as leverage. With one

mighty heave, Berand tore the stone free and sent it tumbling behind him. All three aristocrats gathered

close and peered into the hole.

I see something, Julian said as he reached into the hidden orifice. His hand groped in the dark for a

few moments, then pulled out a wooden tablet the size of a serving tray. The tablet had strange writing

on it that was vaguely familiar to the young scholar. He could almost make out words.

What is it , Julian? Roald said as he leaned in closer to inspect the item.

Im not sure yet. Its some type of religious mantra, I think. I need more light.

Roald quickly ran and grabbed a torch propped nearby. Shadows flickered across the board as the three

closely examined it.

I think.I think I can read it Kasdans warning flashed in Julians mind. The man had truly bee n

scared, but why?..Nothing good can come of this place... only deathplease ...I beg you... But these are

only the workings of primitives, they are nothing. That man is nothing more than a superstitious fool,

nothing more than an Ignavus! I will not heed the words of a coward!

The words echoed in his head, violently dragging him out of his sleep. Disorientation hit him like a brick

wall falling on a roach as he tried to pull himself together. I thinkI think I can read it His eyes went

wide with terror. He had been here before. Kasdan put his hands beneath him and pushed himself up,

grabbing the pole in the center of his tent for support. He forced his mind to collect itself as he stumbled

out of his tent, his armor clanging as he moved, he had to stop them. ..

I see it now! Julian said , looking at his peers with childish delight. Here, listen!

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Kasdan moved quicker now, his mind had almost come to focus and his stumbling gave way to a more

urgent run. He could see the three surrounding something and Julian lips moving as if reading

Tuabra, Delos, Mortos, V iende the fire reflected in Julians eyes.

Kasdan broke into a run, flying across the camp

Chueda, Felam, Akala , Julians voice began to echo through the camp, a supernatural undertone

accompanying it

The eyes of the statue began to burn horribly bright, but the three were too engrossed in Julians voice

Sotetos, Boda zan

Kasdan saw the eyes, saw the hell escaping, and knew he was too late

Vivos, Moramos, Gratis!! Julian finished with excitement, his voice echoing into the jungle.

NOOOO!!! Kasdan roared, collapsing to his knees, arms outstretched towards the young men, terror

twisting his face. He was too late.

The blazing red eyes immediately disappeared, and a strong mysterious wind swept over the summit of

th e temple. What have you done!? Kasdan whispered in horror

The wind passed moments after it arrived. Julian and his cohorts looked dumfounded.

Is that it? Berand asked, sitting back on his haunches.

I think so Julian replied, a little disappointed.

Whats wrong with him? Roald said, motioning towards Kasdan.

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What have you done Kasdan repeated, his eyes filled with terror. He slowly pulled himself to his feet,

then turned and hurried back towards his tent.

The three watched him leave, expressions of confusion on their faces.

Who knows, Roald? Go let the coward be what is he is, Berand said , standing up and walking toward

the groups nearby fire. Lets have some drinks!

Minutes later the three sat around their campfire, retelling stories of the past. Berand was telling a

boisterous story of how he had wooed four women at once and how the four had literally fought over

him when they all coincidently approached him at the same time. Julian took a deep drink of his wine.

He never liked listening to Berands stories, they were half true and all exaggeration. Julians mind

began to wander, the alcohol was getting to him. He smiled. He thought of home, he thought of the

terraces and the towers of Tolgrad, he thought of the beautiful girls in the street and the way they

waved to him, he thought of the black gargantuan monster across the camp with its long white fangs

and pulsating red eyes staring at him as it pulled the flesh from a man like a starving beggar tears the

meat from the chicken bone with one bite. Julian shook his head and rubbed his eyes, trying to drive the

image from his mind, the alcohol was really getting to him. When he opened them the monster was still

there. It tore the mans lower half from its elongated massive jaws, rib bones and intestines flying,

spraying the air with blood and scattering about the camp. The beast raised its maw and swallowed,

never taking its burning eyes off Julian.

Why is it so silent all of the sudden, Berand asked.

That s when Julian realized the monster was real, more real than he ever wished, and his eyes exploded

with horror. The beast stood twenty five feet tall, and from what he could see, was at least twice or

even three times as long, from head to tail. It stood on two legs, and was balanced by the long tail that

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stretched behind it. It was black as night, and a black slime oozed from its skin and fell in lumps upon the

ground below. In its right muscled forearm it held the remains of the man. Long sharp claws grasped

around the corpse, before it raised the bloody mess to its mouth, opening wide, with a bright red

serpentine tongue extending past its jaw. It swallowed the rest of the unfortunate adventurer.

Julian, why are you so qui Then they saw it, and so did everyone else in the camp. The monster

screamed.

From its black, fanged, gaping maw came an unholy scream, the likes of which not even a truly damned

soul could match. The scream tore into the night with incredible power, knocking many from their feet,

and piercing into every mans soul, striking them dumb with terror. Then they ran, though it didnt

matter. The monster was faster than reason. It stomped through the camp, scattering tents and fire and

snatching up those who reacted to slowly. Those that it caught, it promptly bit in half, tossing the rest of

the carcass into the night. It screamed again, and then chased the men down the temple stairs.

Men fell over one another, tumbling down the long steps as they fled from the monster. Those that fell

and werent lucky enough to roll were either smashed beneath the monster s three toed feet, or ripped

apart by its serrated jaws. Julian looked back and watched as one man was swallowed hole by the night

terror. The beast s burning red eyes were still locked onto the scholar. It was coming for him. Julian hit

the jungle floor running, with Berand andwhere was R oald?! Julian looked back again. Roald had fallen

at the base of the temple, his feet caught in his ornate wardrobe. He reached toward Julian, helpless

terror in his eyes. Julian saw the monster closing behind Roald, its long tail snapping behind it, and he

turned and ran. Julian heard Roald s scream, which was cut short with a bloody gurgle. They kept

running. Berand began to quickly outpace Julian, his athleticism powering him forward, and away.

Berand disappeared into the forest, never looking back at Julian.

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BERAND, WAIT!! DONT LEAVE ME!! Julian tore through the jungle looking for Berand, but it was dark

and he could barely see in front of him. He frantically groped for the unlit torch in his jacket, spilling his

pockets of their contents until his fingers clasped around the torch. He tore the torch out of his pocket

and smacked it against the nearest tree, alighting its fire. The Monster stood in front of him, red pulsing

eyes locked onto his, black ooze dripping from its body falling in clumps on the foliage beneath, its white

serrated, dagger long fangs bared towards . The night terror screamed, blasting Julians ears into an

excruciating pain, and knocking him to the jungle floor. The monster moved towards him, savoring the

slaughter to come, saliva dripping from its fangs. Julian was frozen with terror. He could only sit and

watch as his death approached. I am going to die a coward. The beast lunged forward.

A star rose in front of Julian. A brilliant flaming orange star that streaked in front of the frozen boy

leaving a trail of fire in its wake and burying itself in the eye of the monster. The Terror truly screamed

now. The beast wretched in pain and tore away from Julian as its face caught flame. A plated man with a

scar on his cheek holding a spear with a molten red tip stepped over Julian, protecting him from the

monster.

Get up! Kasdan roared. GET UP NOW! When Julian failed to react, K asdan ripped him from the

ground and threw him over his shoulder. The two escaped into the dark jungle while the beast screamed

in pain.

Morzak closed the Hecarod and looked towards Wralgar. The barbarian was deep in thought. After a

moment he opened his eyes.

That isnt the end of the story Morzak. What happens next?

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Youre right Wralgar . It isnt. This is a tale that carries on for much longer, with much more triumph and

sorrow. But what did you learn tonight?

Wralgar contemplated once more, thinkin g of the tale he had just been read. A mans worth can be

judged, and belittled, but that doesnt define him. What defines a man is what he does when he is

confronted by fate, forced to choose, forced to make a hard choice. That is how a man should be judged.

Not by opinions or ideals, but by actions.

Morzak nodded his head in congratulations. You are learning fast my friend.

But will it be fast enough?