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One dark night, in the Godstrees of the Jungle Planet of Rakash, the flooring started shaking. The Elves that inhabited the Trees looked up from their peaceful doings, and wondered what was happening. They looked outside, and there was a bright, light purple light coming from the horizon. The Elves went to inspect. Across the stars, the Dwarves, humans, Kepraka and Orcs saw this aswell. The light drew one of all the races towards it. The one from them all drew closer, and the light grew brighter. There was a flash, 5 screams that shook the worlds, and then there was nothing.
-13 Years Later-
The young Elves ran through the trees, swinging on vines and jumping to get to the other trees. The mother Elves watched them and laughed. The children ran into the Town Centre and through the feasts of the New Year. They ran past the Champion of the Lands, Tura. Tura defended the lands throughout the Wars of the Stones, which the Dwarves came through the Interland Portals, and took the Elves by surprise. The Elves proceeded to win the war, and Tura became the Champion of the Land. He feasted with his mother, laughing at the children. The feast did not contain one piece of animal flesh, as the Elves did never consume the meat of animal. Tura was equipped with his bow, a pure Ndengina Wood Bow. His armour was made of Anga Metal.
"Tura! So long it has been since we met last," yelled the town lord, walking over to him.
"Heru, there is not the need to yell, when you are right next to me." Tura replied.
Heru walked over to Tura and embraced him. Tura returned the embracement.They stopped embracing and walked over to the Feast table. They helped themselves to fresh fruit and vegetables. They sat next to each other at a table. They began to eat when an Elven messenger ran up to them.
"The Portal is opening!" the messenger exclaimed.
Tura jumped up and drew his bow. They saw Dwarves marching over the horizon. The Elven Archers drew their bows and readied their arrows. Then a white flag was raised, and a Dwarven Warlord shouted:
"We come in peace! Please lower your weapons, as we have. We have a proposition for you."
The archers lowered their bows, but did not sling them. The Dwarves marched towards the city, and the Elves went to the base of the land. The Dwarven Warlord led a squad of 16 men, and introduced himself. Tura thought they looked as if they had recently been in battle.
"I am Kkesch, the commander of the 1st squad of the Dwarvish Kchuegra, or the Defenders in your language. We come to say we need to act."
Cerez flew through the skies of Skyrisesa, joyful at his new feel for life. He flew from his newfound love and felt giddy inside. The skies were clear and easy to fly through, and the wind felt good on his scales. As he got to his herga, his place of settlement, and went to talk to his mera, or mother.
"How did you go with your friend, Cerez?" his mera asked.
"The time flew, the skies were clear and the love was bright." he replied, "She was the one for me."
His mera gave him a drink, and is fethro, or father, come into the room and she gave him one aswell. His father’s scales were a dark blue and his wings near black. His mother’s scales were a bright red and her wings even brighter. Cerez was a purple-scaled, purple winged Kepraka. As the day grew old, the sun burst through the windows, and a Warlord of the Keprakian Talgro burst through the door.
"As we know, times are hard" said the Warlord, "And bellatores are always needed. We need to recruit any men possible."
Cerez stood up and hugged his Mera, shook his fethro’s hand. And he walked out the door with the Warlord. The Warlord led him to the Talgro Main Building, a fort easily defendable at times of attack, and went to the interior. They continued downstairs to the armour. Cerez we fitted with a set of Dragonpate armour, with a shield and sword. The sword was a mix of metals, made of iron and gold. The hilt felt good in his hand, and when he held, the hilt glowed and when he looked down, it had turned purple.
Drundi walked across the plains of Stone. His Warhammer slung on his back, his armour heavy on his body. As he trundled across the plains, he thought to himself. He thought about the war. He thought of his dead wife. He thought of his three sons. He thought of his dying father. He thought of his dead mother. As he trundled across the Plains, he heard his warband in front of him.
"Drundi! Hurry the fuck up!" said Kkesch, the warband leader.
He picked up the pace and returned to his warband. His armour made it hard for him to run, but he made it to them, as they were only walking and he was running as fast as he could. But it was hard. The rest of the warband were heading for the single obstruction on the horizon. It was a glowed a slight light-purple colour. As they walked, a Burglersf bust out of the ground and grabbed one of Drundi’s companions. Drundi quickly drew his Warhammer and quickly went over to the monster. He swung his hammer and hit the creature’s leg, spurting blood. Then he swung the hammer down on its head, breaking its skull and squirting blood and pieces of brain everywhere. A soft, wet, squelch sounded as the beast fell, dead.
"Shit." Drundi said.
He ripped a rag from his pack and wiped the blood from his face and eyes so he could clearly. When he looked down he could see blood on his armour, and looked at his hammer. It had been covered on blood, so he wiped it down too.
"Well we are in the area of them." said Kkesch, also wiping the blood off his eyes and mouth, "The closer we get to our goal the more of them there are. We need to keep moving, although."
So they kept moving towards their goal.
Leo Dravaki lay on his bed. He was relaxing with his head on his pillow, drifting off to sleep because he was so comfortable. As his eyes drooped, he saw a shadow of another walk into the room, then felt movement in the bed. He turned over and saw his wife, Vanessa, get in the bed next to him. As he drifted off to sleep, he felt her brush against him. It felt comforting for him.
As he opened his eyes to the morning sun, he turned over and smiled to himself.He rose from his bedding, dressed and went into the lounge, where his sword and armour was on the manikin. He gazed across the room, looking at the rooms where his children still slept. He always woke before them; he always woke early, sometimes even before dawn broke. He stepped opened the front door and stepped outside, only to suddenly feel great pain in his head, a flash of white and then crumple to the floor.
He the first thing he felt was a bag on his head. He was weary of not being in familiar surroundings. His left arm felt sore. The bag was torn off his head, and for a second or two he couldn’t see. Then his eyes adjusted to the brightness and he could see again. The first thing he saw was he was in a small room, with a bed, small counter, that had a plate and a glass of water on it. He also found that he was unbound. On the other side of the room there was a heavy-looking door with a slot in it. He thought that that was where his food was to be delivered. He didn’t know if he would be there long enough to receive more food.
Orcera swung his pick, hitting the stone wall hard, metal dusts coming into the air. The air was filled with these dusts, making it hard to breathe. But the eras had hardened the Orc’s ability to breathe in the stuffy air. So he was alright. But when there were others in the mines, it became difficult. He swung his pick to a definite rhythm, as everyone did. As he tunnelled, he heard something in his mind, like a voice saying ‘Keep going forward, keep going forward’. He had heard stories of the gods telling the miners where to go for the most precious metals and minerals, so he trusted his gut instinct. He followed the voice’s instructions. He kept his pick swinging to that same rhythm, tunnelling forward. The Voice kept egging him to go forward, until he saw the glow. This glow was bright and a dull yellow colour. He kept picking away at the stone and dirt, and the glow got brighter and Orcera had to cover his eyes. He put the pickaxe in its sling on his belt, and drew his hammer and chisel. He chiselled out the precious metal ore, and held it in his hands as if it was a god. He stood up, and ran out of the mines, going to show his lord.
They sat in the Mess Hall, drinking on the soup that Deiasar, the local chef, had made freshly. It was a root vegetable soup, and the Dwarves were not happy with the absence of meat. "Let us not be silent over this meat-less soup, and get down to business." said Kkesch. He was sitting directly across from Tura. "It must be extreme. As you know, our ancestors do not have history of the best. Desperation must be in your souls.” Tura replied. "We are not desperate, we just desperately need help. That be the same thing”- Sometimes Elves talked like their ancestors, exchanging ‘it’ for ‘be’. "It be not. We have been commanded by our leader to create an alliance with you Elves.” He said the word ‘Elves’ as if it was a disgusting piece of food, shoved into his mouth. Tura had gotten to his feet and began to shout. "Create an alliance!? He really thinks that, even after thousands of years we would ally with you putrid Dwarves?! We are Elves; we do not ally with our own enemies! You should know that, your ancestors tried it, now you try it! It will simply not work!" Kkesch stood up, and as small as he was, seemed to tower over Tura. "Kkesch! We don’t need this!" said one of the Dwarven squad members, “We came here to make peace, not make more enemies. I am sorry for my Warband Leader. He forgets that we are guests here, and thinks this place as his own." Tura looked at the Dwarf. He carried a Warhammer, and bore heavy armour. He wore no helm, and had a long, thick beard. His face was covered with dirt and grime. "And who are you?" said Dominus. “I am Drundi, son of Lerchkra. I was assigned to this Warband to be the Guardian of the Others. I was specially trained for the heavier armour, and the Warhammer. So you are the one that does most of the fighting, yes? You could say that. Kkarjem, as we say. It means mostly in mine language." Drundi then stood and trundled over to the window. He gazed out at the treeline, unto the interworld portals. "This matter has come to be dangerous to not only us Ghroja, or Dwarves. It dangers you Elvenkin, The Humankin, Dragonkin, all of us. We have come to you because we need help dissolving this matter. The Gods do not shine on us. The Dead Ones have awoken, and created a spawn to do their bidding." Tura looked up. "So we act".
Cerez gazed out to the place that was once his restplace. He had been left to his own thoughts, and came to realise that this was what his life was to be. He was always destined to become a warrior. He looked down at his form. The light-tan armour fitted him well, and had slits on the back for his purple wings. The blade that he had taken and named was in its sheath strapped to his side. The shield that he had also taken was slung on his back. He knew that this was what he was born for. The commander had told him that he was assigned to a specialised group. This group was going to attempt a mission that had begun to make Cerez nervous. It had never been achieved before, or even tried. His group had essentially been assigned to a suicide mission. Cerez sighed.