[1.0]

Deep in the night, in the very heart of the Parraan fields, Tur'tan village was a lot more quiet than usual at these late hours. It used to be a hot spot for travelers and adventure seekers. Those who dared to cross paths and actually meet those of the Blackborn tribe, yet were lucky enough to tell the tale, became friends of the brotherhood and sisterhood formed by ages of traditions and mutual respect among the tribesmen and their associates.

Strong tundra wind waved the long furry cloak around as the newly promoted young chieftain stood on a hill overlooking the village of Tur'tan. It's been days since the messengers took off on their quests to deliver an encrypted message to each of the four other nations. He grows weary as none of them returned yet bearing the response of the allied nations' rulers. Apart from the village's defenses he is planning and plotting on the hill, there seems to be one more reason for him being there.

Two of his trusted soldiers, Makgran and Ragg, were on that hill alongside the chieftain. None of them said a word since they departed from the chieftain's hut. Over the course of years, duo have developed an intense yet close relation with Garganthar, and were promoted as his guardians upon his ascension to the throne.

Blackborn tribe was at alarm ever since the incident. Rumors of the "green plague" were slowly becoming more and more of a problem because at this rate they were decapitating the stability Garganthar and those in command before him have been holding firmly for centuries. How could it not? For a village that far away in the north, especially due to cold climate, it is rather unusual to have issues with other beings and viruses of magical nature, for nobody even dared to set their foot in the Parraan fields.

Without a word, young chieftain waved his hand slowly towards the village with index finger pointed directly at it as in indication. Two behind him started to tail him in silence, staring dead ahead with serious duty expressions. There was no point in waiting on something that might not even come, for there was no assurance that messenger's made it past the fields.

Meanwhile down in the southern regions of Loerynn, Mayeziah Grunn, a messenger who was sent towards the infamous land of chivalry and prosperity - the village of Riverdale, has finally made it to his destination. Exhausted and hungry, along with his wolf, he landed at the very gates of this village. Guards were nowhere to be seen on the watch posts, however this was to be expected. Grunn was spotted long ago and guardians were informed of his arrival beforehand.

"I call upon the gate-keepers to open the doors of their respective village," yelled the messenger, "I bear an important message from Garganthar, chieftain of the Blackborn tribe!" He kept on shouting in front of the village doors, but there was no response for the time being. It was as if he was being ignored on purpose and each second he'd have an arrow slide through his skull and pierce him dead. Mayeziah started to grow uneasy, wrapping his large fingers around the leash of his wolf. "In case something happens to me, make sure to run towards the chieftain and let him know," he spoke in calm and low voice profile to his companion. Squeeze of teeth and gritting loud noises were the wolf's response, followed with a frown aimed towards the gate.

Judging from the look on wolf's face, something fierce was approaching the gate. Grunn sat his hand on the weapon handle, preparing himself for an assault from the inside. It won't be long before he gets struck down, however he was prepared to take at least several more humans with him before the fall. Suddenly, a loud bashing sound. Gates started to open widely, revealing several figures on the inside standing alongside the process. Grunn squinted his eyes, somewhat frowning at the appearances as he felt endangered.

Without hesitation, figures started to move towards him. It was clear now, there was an armored individual with a lot of gear apparently, followed with two four subordinates holding spears with both of their hands. It seemed like a man with respect was about to meet him, along with several militia guards to cover him. Grunn was prepared.

As the individuals approached, their faces were revealed clearly by now. Guardsmen appeared to be regular villagers equipped with spears, serving just for intimidation and weak protection of the man in the middle. That man, however, appeared like a warrior and someone in position when it comes to village's defenses. His long black hair and fresh shaven jawline stood out. It certainly was someone of royalty in the village.

"A message from the ruler of Tur'tan, you claim?" Asked the male curiously, slowly crossing his arms in front of his chest as his four guardsmen started to surround Grunn. Mayeziah kept his eyes sweeping between the individuals, those surrounding him of course, and didn't pay much attention towards the male who spoke to him, at least visually. However, after several moments of silence, he decided to speak his mind. "Is this the well known chivalry of the Riverdale knights? I don't recall that term of such huge scale and meaning could be represented in this way and behavior," he flashed a grin immediately after. It would seem as if Grunn was eager to fight.

At this rate, he was completely surrounded with pikes aimed at him. Wolf he rode and his loyal companion was constantly growling at the captors. Male was somewhat shocked by Grunn's response, however kept the calm facial expression and deep royal voice tone. You stand before commander of the guard, royal knight of Riverdale and a very close relative of his highness, King Jordan the Second. It would take such a small amount, close to having none, of brain to know how to behave in front of someone of this size and reputation."

The way that man spoke, it would seem as if he was actually insulted by what Mayeziah said before. However, that was not the case. Not long after his remark, he would flash a wide smirk across his face and raise his right hand. Mayeziah turned his full focus towards the male upon hearing his words, following and watching his every move closely. He knew that peasants around him were not the issue in this scenario, but the one speaking to him is.

The very reason why that hand was raised was quite shocking, at least for Grunn. It served as the signal for guardsmen to lower their weapons and let the nomad roam freely. They slowly pulled their spears back, and walked towards the commander still facing Mayeziah though. "My name is Alexander, son of Branco DeVille." Commander apparently introduced himself out of nowhere, and with doing that waved his hand towards the village. "Come in. Don't be afraid. You look tired and exhausted enough that if anyone from the village wanted you dead, you'd be cold by now. There is no hostility here, my friend, so you and your little brat there may have some relief." He kept on talking confidently, and at this rate even Mayeziah calmed down.

He started to pet his wolf in order to express the situation to him, and at the same time motion him that they are not in danger. "The reason behind this poor welcome, fellow Blackborn, is simple. King Jordan and rest of the knights are away, hunting the local renegade party that sacked couple of village homes not far from here. We managed to capture one of them and he gave out the information..." Alexander briefly explained the situation to Grunn as they were walking into the village.

Yaraan, a messenger who was sent to inform both Dwarves and Elves regarding the meeting, was already on his way from Boldin Mines and towards the Jaeldanaar forest. Dwarves have always kept solid relations with the tribesmen and were handling a lot of trading conferences between each others. Yaraan used this knowledge and made his first stop be the Dwarven Empire.

On top of everything else, Elves and Dwarves were relatively close to each other in terms of geographical locations. Jaeldanaar forest was pretty huge as well, covering the very heart and center of Loerynn at a wide range. Messenger already made his first step into the forest approximately two hours ago. He knew from the very beginning that he was watched and observed, and that in case of a single wrong step he could be dead as well, pierced from the shadows by the hands of observers.

His fate was laying completely in the hands of an unknown commander who kept the borders under close watch. There must be no mistake on his quest. The very reason he picked this path and not any other messenger is because of his curiosity and wisdom. There is no match for him in the village when it comes to knowledge regarding the other nations and races, at least those who were in the books of old.

He kept roaming the lonely forest road with his companion, constantly hearing the movement around him in the bushes. However his tight grip over the leash wrapped around his wolf's mouth and neck kept him in control. After hours of complete loneliness, duo finally approached the dead end of the path they were on. Confused and somewhat shocked, Yaraan looked down at his wolf.

"You seem to be out of luck when following dirt-paths, nomad. That could cost you your life in most cases," said the soft female voice. It sounded like the origin of that voice was the forest itself. It echoed swiftly through the woods and pierced straight through ears of both the messenger and his companion. Wolf grew uneasy, slowly pushing himself towards the grass and laying there. It'd appear he is ready to jump and protect his master if need be.

Out of shadows, a female figure jumped from the trees and landed in front of the messenger with a sword in her hand. Other hand seemed to be occupied with handle of a knife which rested on her waistline, sheathed. It would seem as if the female was prepared to use the knife in case her attack with the sword failed. Messenger flinched and jumped backwards, pulling his chain leash with him as well. This forced his wolf to take temporary retreat as well and jump backwards in order to maintain some distance and receive the first blow.

"It took us some time to organize, we were not expecting an intruder in these early hours. What is your purpose here?" She kept on talking with that same soft voice from before. Eyes and most of her face were covered with a hood which was connected to a long black cloak, waving around and covering her body. Elves are known for using long black cloaks to protect themselves in the shadows of their forest, so this commotion was not an issue nor strange at all.

"I bring a message from chieftain Garganthar, of the Tur'tan village and Blackborn tribe," said the nomad, "would you be kind enough to escort me to your master?" He narrowed his large eyes upon the female. Taking his time and not making any sudden fast movements, he wrapped his fingers around the handle of his large black iron spear.

Female slowly pulled the hood off her head, revealing her long and pretty red hair. She shook her head for a bit and waved the hair around, then narrowed her vision upon the messenger as well. Situation grew tense as duo kept staring at each other. After some time of constant stare, she released her grip over the knife and sheathed her sword as well. It would appear as if she was comfortable at this rate and sure about nomad's intentions.

"You shall be brought before the queen, then. But remember that rule of one wrong move still applies, nomad, and shall you try something that shouldn't be tried in these woods, your head will shortly after hit the grass." She passed her threats as she beckoned them over, motioning the direction they should head in.

Ironjaw the Cripple, messenger who was sent to inform the Khadirs was in their tavern already. It's been quite some time since he entered the village and started to feast. Without even informing anybody, he decided it was about time for him to grab some brew and meat chops. Were Khadirs not cunning and wise, he would even forget why he arrived there in the first place.

Two soldiers walked into the tavern and immediately recognized the hooded figure sitting in the corner. What gave him up was the iron jaw he had, shining beneath the darkness of the hood covering him. One soldier nudged the other and then turned towards the counter. Those who were in the tavern were to leave that place at once, as it was now under military closure. One soldier stood at the entrance, motioning others that they should leave the tavern while other one gave orders to villagers and pointed them into the right direction.

One working at the bar was to stay, however. As the last guest left the tavern, and the only ones left were two soldiers, Ironjaw and the Khadir working at the bar, this nomad decided to stand up slowly. It would appear as if he was struggling to stand up due to his inability to walk properly. "A nomad always travels with his companion. Where is your wolf, old man!?" Shouted the soldier viciously, sniffing around and attempting to find the scent of Ironjaw's wolf.

"Do not take Ironjaw for a fool, Khadir." Nomad gave a swift response. He would appear to be comfortable in this situation and actually make a mockery of it as well while at it. "Lazarn is safe, kept in the fields next to the village to rest. I am the only one here, and there is a very good reason behind it." He kept talking.

Soldiers didn't seem to show much trust at all, keeping their noses and ears working the whole time. Even Khadir working at the bar started to sniff and look around for the wolf. "Go ahead, nomad," said the soldier, slowly drawing his blade out, "tell us the 'very reason' you are here?" He mocked back. Ironjaw grunted and then flashed a weak smile.

His weak body slowly started to move in direction of the bar. He would show no hostility in his movement at all, appearing to have that same chill from before. "Before I tell you anything related to that, let me tell you that the blade you pulled out won't be of any use here. After all, I believe you won't struck down an old man." Ironjaw successfully talked himself out of the mess he was in. Soldiers looked at each other, appearing to be confused. Situation as well started to get calmer and calmer with each second.

Several more soldiers walked into the tavern and narrowed their frown upon the nomad. "We are to imprison you until the commander arrives. Then we shall decide whether what you're saying is true or not." Said one of the soldiers who stepped into the tavern. And so was done, before even knowing it, Ironjaw had makeshift cuffs on his wrists and was taken into custody.

As he walked out the tavern, morning breeze and newly risen sun struck his eyes. The climate here was not the best suit for him, but he had job to do after all. No matter the cost, the message he carried had to be delivered to the respective leadership of this nation. Crowd was already surrounding the tavern, staring at this large, yet crippling figure of a once great warrior of his tribe. There was no mistaking it, he'll have wait for another dawn before proceeding with his plan.

Back in Tur'tan village, villagers have started to protest in front of Garganthar's hut. He kept sitting inside the hut desperately as he waited for any sort of response from the messengers. "If this keeps up, we are doomed. They better be back soon with an army. Else we will not only have to face the threat ourselves, but also to fight our fellow kinsmen who seem to distrust me at this rate. The fruit of my hard work is yet to bloom, but they don't seem to have the patience." Garganthar spoke to Makgran, who remained with him through the whole night. Ragg went to sleep a couple of hours after they left the hill.

"Worry not, brother. You sent three of our best hunters on that job. They will do their tasks successfully, even if that costs them their life. Especially Ironjaw, you know he served under your father for years." Makgran responded with a soft voice tone, boosting some confidence back into Garganthar's mind. Two shook their hands and embraced each other, then proceeded to ponder on what is going to happen in case their fellow messengers don't make it.

[1:1]
Uurohgak Krul sat cross legged on the hard dirt floor, taking shelter from the blazing sun beneath the shade of a crude make shift lean-to, its cover sheets violently bellowing in the wind.
This humble little outpost sat on the edge of a rocky outcrop located on the outskirts of the great Boldin Mines.
Opposite the young blackborn sat a short stout dwarf, his beard bushy and his face lined with age. A stone pipe hung from the corner of his mouth where it always lived. His blue eyes almost always peering through a swift endless cloud of thin frail smoke.
Yarsorli Silverdigger, Uurohgak Krul had come to think of him as a friend, and to some regard he was, but that never stopped the dwarf from swindling the Blackborn for all his worth.
Undoubtably the dwarfs were excellent metal smiths and crafters.
Uurohgak had come seeking aid for his injured and troubled jaw.

Yarsorli the gracious host and dwarf he was had kindly offered some complimentary sustenance for the frail tribesman, although after a few hours of drinking the concoction and making some ill purchases, Uurohgak's spinning head and helpless grin told him it was nothing more than some typical thick dwarven ale. By this point he didn't really care of the slight deception.

Jaw still broken, a large new Khopesh in hand and a belly full of mead, Uurohgak Krul and his wolf ally Reshy took off in the direction of the Jaeldanaar forest, fresh on the trail of Yaraan, a Blackborn messenger who recently passed the Boldin mines. News had spread through Boldin of the messengers passing and the intoxicated Uurohgak was anxious and curious to accompany him on his trip home.

It was after about an hour of steady travel into the Jaeldanaar forest that a heavy headed Uurohgak and confused Reshy found themselves lost and without a trail to follow. The two had been spun around and couldn't discern one direction from another. Reshy's nose was also unhelpful as it became deceived by strange and unusual scents.
While they made good time catching on Yarran over the plains between the Dwarven mines and Elven forest, now with every blind second-guessed step they were falling further behind. Uurohgak was now feeling the after effects of the Dwarven ale and worry of his choices began to set in. It was now hit or miss. Finally the duo chose a direction and ran with it, saying a silent prayer to the mother wolf as they put their fate in her hands.

[1.2]

William was on his way back from another successful caravan run. A big bag with money ( golden coins , idk what currency is accepted in this world so... ) handing near his leg. He was not afraid of thieves or things alike. Turli was polished a day ago and it was gleaming in the morning sun. Nobody would attack him. Most people in Rockshore knew him by reputation alone and thieves knew better than to try to steal from the Golden Hand.

He went back to the blacksmith to put yet another diamond into Turli's hilt. The blacksmith , a big bulky human just opened the shop and he had no customers.
"Good morning George !" said William , with a smile on his face. George looked at William for awhile. George was getting old and his eyes were not what they used to be. Finally he recognized William.
"Good morning Mister Hand! You finally came to sell that old sword ? "
" Don't even joke about that old man. Turli is not for sale and it will never be as long as I am alive. said William , anger showing up on his face.
"Ok...ok. Then if you are not here to sell me that sword. Why are you here ? said George , a little sad. "Turli needs a new diamond to be put in her hilt. It's the last one. 12 diamonds for each bandit. "William. There were 12 diamonds for each day you spent weeping for your wife last time you came here. George stated.
" Old man. It doesn't matter. Here are the money and the diamond. Take good care of her. I will have your skin if something happens to her..
With that said William takes a blood red diamond from his pack and 10 pieces of golden coins and puts them on the table.
On his way back home one of his servants started running towards him.
"Master ! Master ! said the servant with half breath. "
What is it , Alex , something wrong ? "
"We received word just now. A Blackborn was seen on the road to Rivendale , he will be there in a few days. " the servant clearly looked spooked and with breath. "
Blackborn...that's not a good sign. When Blackborn come here , it means only one thing. Trouble and there is money to be made when trouble is about...Prepare my horse. I shall ride there. "
The servant left running back to the house to ready the horse and William went to take his sword back ( and the diamond + money ) and went to take his horse.
Something was up and money could be made.

[1.3]

The strong winter breeze slammed continuously over the black fur wrapped around the head and back of the Parraanstrider. The creature he was hunting in the wastes doubled his size. However, he was not noticed. Laying on the snow, next to a large rock with spikes, he made the perfect disguise. There was no Mayval in sight as well. It seemed like Thagar went alone on this one, leaving his companion behind in the village of Tur'tan by the looks of it.

The creature, or prey in this case, was part of the Giantonostril blood family. Large and fat bodies, covered with natural armor solid as the rock on the back and sides, the creature gave impression of being unable to move with any good speed at all. However, still regardless to that fact Thagar to be extremely careful with his approach. Slowly and without any sound of movement, he wrapped his fingers around the large spear and tightened the grip.

The timing to strike had to be perfect in this case.

Any slight mistake could lead to his death, and he was aware of this. Creature, by it's nature however, had no eyes at all and was only moving and hunting by it's nose, thus the specie-family name. Parraanstrider was only focused at his movement and noise production at this rate, as that was the only thing that could lead to him slipping and getting caught by this gigantic creature.

Spear was at this rate completely in his hand, and the time to strike was right. In a swift move, Thagar jumped from the snow, somewhat even from the laying position, and aimed his spear towards the neck of the beast. While in air, he noticed that the beast was already looking in his direction, snorting viciously as it sensed him. It was not good at all. The beast started to shout as he arrived really close in the air.

In a swift move, beast threw Thagar sideways before he could even impale it. He dropped the spear upon impact, landing on his back into the snow. A bad moment for him, indeed. Beast followed his path with it's body, and then charged into the direction of his landing. This is bad, at this rate I'll be dismembered by it!" Said Thagar as he was looking around, somewhat dizzy, for his weapon and only choice of defense.

The spear he wielded, however, was thrown too far from him. Mere seconds were about to decide his fate as even the beast itself gained a lot of speed in it's charge. Thagar slowly pushed himself up to his knee's and remained somewhat in lowered position.

As the beast approached him, he pushed himself off the ground and jumped between it's legs. Due to inability to see, beast struck it's tusks into the ground where sound of Thagar's jump was a mere second before. Weaponless at this rate, he had no other choice but to remain still.

Creature raised it's head and looked both ways in shock, growling and shouting viciously in anger. Unless he moved, there was no chance that the beast could notice him. Even if he did, he was out of range of the tusks because he was beneath the beast. However, with it's gigantic size and weight, it would easily crush his body in paranoia and fear with it's own movement.

Several seconds passed before the large amount of blood dripped all over Thagar's face. He widened his eyes in shock, letting out a huge exhale of relief and moved to the side to use his chance. It was Mayval, Parraanstrider's companion. Nobody even saw him approaching in the snow, nor heard. He used his chance to jump and bite a vital point on the neck of the creature.

Mayval remained on the creature, and they both fell onto the snow sideways. "Mayval, you took your time to show up! But on the other hand, my loyal friend, your timing couldn't been better!" Yelled Thagar as he picked up his spear. Both wolf and creature were growling and shouting. Desperate movements were made as a futile attempt to survive by the beast, however there was no luck nor chance for it to make it.

Thagar ran up the beast and struck his spear through it's large head, with full force. Last reflex movements happened, and then beast went into silence not long after. Wolf released it's grip over the creature's neck, taking a few steps back. Blood was dripping from his teeth and mouth, leaving a red mark on the snow.

"My dear Mayval," Thagar walked towards his companion, carelessly leaving the spear struck into the beast's head, "you saved my life." He crouched next to his wolf and started to pet him. Mayval shown nothing but love back, clearly wishing to cuddle a bit. "You might want to take a few steps back, though. It's about to get ugly here, however, you'll grab a piece or two to eat." Thagar kept talking to his companion.

Parraanstrider was clearly about to skin and then dismember the beast. There was a lot of meat and skin on the beast, more than simply enough for Thagar to sell to his fellow villagers and even keep his own and Mayval's belly filled up for the time being.