[I]"Please father? Can you tell it just one more time?" A small young boy's voice asked.

A much deeper chuckle replied. "Alright, alright my boy... Now... what's the story again?"

"You know it! The one about the High King!"

"Oh! Yes...! The High King... lets see here...." Thaimos cleared his throat and sat down next to his young boy's bed, him staring up at him with anticipation. "The land of Vahldir was created by the six mighty gods, Onlor, Nicosa, Ashar, Dardrao, Rorrt, and the most powerful, Onsyrn. They created everything in this world. Deserts, mountains, grass, rocks, trees, deer, even your bed! But their most prized creations were the Evles, Dwarves, Halflings, Alituums, and humans. They all lived happily, and one day, the gods decided that they needed someone to rule over them. They chose the bravest, purest and humble person on the land. Aleden."

"He ruled the land with peace, and protected Vahldir for quite some time. he was also the very first gift bearer, having the power of Osryn. Making him stronger than 20 men, the loyalty of a lion, and the will to never be lured by darkness. Once the dwarves found the infinite treasure though, it took more than politics to keep the land at bay. Soon it was the corrupt vs the pure of heart. And as their creations fought, so did the Gods. They created new creatures to help fight for their side, and just when it seemed that Aleden was going to win... His was killed by his most trusted advisor and friend. Fusos was given the gift of Rorrt... And he soon killed anyone else with the gifts, and the ability to fight back."[/I]

-----------------

The night was taking a very bad toll on a horse drawn wagon. Lighting struck, the wind howled, and it was hard to see with the pouring rain. The wagon raced on though, in the back were people lying down, moaning, whimpering, and others praying. The man driving the wagon had a dark brown cloak over his head, but as the lightning flashed you could see the dark green eyes straining to keep on the trail. The man next to him had a cloth up to his nose. He stood up and looked behind the wagon, his bow in his hand. "I don't see anymore, but no doubt there will be. How much farther!" The masked man asked, sitting back down.

[I]"But the family of Aleden fled the city before anyone could find them. They hid in a Halfling town known as Faycrest. Fortis was given to the family much later though. The elves recovered it, and as time moved on, the family of Aleden moved to a different city, blended in... but were always reminded of who they were. The sword was passed on and on... and now, Rilden, Son of Thaimos. House of Aleden, it is yours."[/i]

"Just a few more minutes!" The hooded man named Rilden screamed through the wind. The two men have wandered in to a small town known as Sap when they saw injured and helpless people on the road... So they took the initiative to help them get to a healer. Although it cut in their time to search for the Gift Bearers, their deaths would keep them up at night. Unfortunately Fusos' army was waiting for anyone willing to help them. A sign of people who would want to fight against Fusos. The night consisted of them going as fast as they could, the elf shooting arrows at the army, and them praying they could make it to the town and lose them.

They were told Damascus was the closest city to them. And stories of a very good healer was said to be there. They made it. The wagon sped through the quiet and eerie streets, rain still pouring. They stopped in front of the healing shop, the hooded man climbed off, and started to knock loudly on the door so they could hear it through the storm. The elf started to help the refugees out.

The man knocked again, unsure if they heard him. They could hear the sounds of The Tyrant's men coming closer through the gusts of winds. Hopefully the door will open, so they can hide and take shelter. No bloodshed had to be made in this town.