Giants once quite common in the lands ruled by the Targon Supremacy have extraordinary physical strength, huge proportions and are able to easily adapt to the changes in the environment.
Living mostly in forests and mountains, they hunt animals and on occasion humans who get too close to their lairs. Stupid and violent, these creatures were forcibly culled down by the Targon Supremacy in an effort to gain favour with the people of the supremacy.
Study of Beasts, written by Warlock Donal of the High Council 1170 LP (Light Period)
As it grew darker within the forest, the moon peeked forth from behind ashen grey clouds, and a strange sound began to infuse the wind. Raid also observed that the immense insects that had been bugging him all day disappeared again as soon as that sound appeared; it worried him. So Raid, after discussing it with Trogon, decided it was time to do some scouting before getting some sleep. He estimated that they had covered half the ground needed to leave the forest, and so they could continue the rest of the journey tomorrow morning when they could see where they were going.
He walked over towards Iron Foot, caught a hold of her bridle and gently pulled the horse to a stop. Raid took a deep breath, swallowing his rage, and knocked on the carriage door to let the witch know his plan of action. An irritated voice replied, “What is it now, filth?”
Raid nearly snarled in reaction to her insult, but forced himself to calm down. “We are stopping for the night, just letting you know in case you’re wondering why we have stopped.” The carriage door banged open.
She popped out wearing a rich blue silk gown that looked equally as expensive as the ruined gown she had worn previously. Her brown eyes were aflame. “We can’t stop for the night here, FILTH, the testing begins in three days,” she said in an icy cold voice. Raid shrugged his shoulders.
“Nothing I can do about that, we are in the forest of Mantoria, after all; it would be crazy stupid to walk around in a forest where trees are sharp enough to slice people in half.” Then he gave her a worried look. “I think we are being followed. Ever since that fight with the giant I can feel eyes upon us; safer if we just find a good clearing and wait for whatever is out there to leave us alone before continuing,” he said in a low voice. The witch sneered with contempt at Raid’s fear. “Truly, filth, I am beginning to think you are prolonging this journey on purpose.”
Before Raid could respond Trogon came over to join them, after making sure to unsaddle the horse and feed her. “What’s this fighting again? Honestly, I actually think you idiots want to get us killed out here,” said Trogon, who now had a dangerous gleam in his eyes. Raid backed away a little, always finding it best to be cautious around an angry Trogon. The blood of a Titan’s streaming through Trogon’s veins not only made him extremely powerful, but when angered there was always a chance his berserker rage would simply take over. When that happens, it doesn’t matter if you’re friend or foe: the man would shred anything up in his path.
The witch gave Trogon a considering look and replied, “I was just telling this impudent filth that we must continue.” Trogon, seeing the stubborn set of her jaw, glanced over towards Raid who was studying the forest, then gave the witch a helpless shrug.
“No, witch, it would be best if we camped here in this clearing, where we have clear lines of sight and can make a fire.” The witch sniffed her nose at that.
“My name is Lady Mira of House Blood Nail and we will continue; I will not be late for the testing.” Raid opened his mouth to insult her.
Trogon cut in before Raid could say something to re-ignite the fight. “Listen, Lady Mira, you have seen for yourself how dangerous this forest can be. Those warlocks we saw back there, will probably be searching for us.” Lady Mira pursed her red lips, considering. She gave Trogon another thorough inspection, before reluctantly nodding her head and getting back inside the ornate carriage. Chortling, Raid said, “Wow, Trogon, that was amazing, didn’t know you could charm women so easily, you think she likes you?” with a slight mocking tone.
Trogon ignored the poor jest and went off to gather any dead wood he could find on the ground, deciding not to risk his hands or other body parts cutting tree branches.
Trogon sighed as they both left, and wondered how in the world he had become enmeshed in the middle of this. It honestly felt like months ago that he was just travelling the road with Raid, doing the odd escort job between the town of Fontrel and the village of Kirenia, becoming highly successful caravan guards.
It was easy work, good pay and they had lived quite comfortably in an inn.
All of it ruined by a young girl dressed in a white silk dress, embroidered with an open mouth on her shoulder that identified her as a herald. She had come into the Prancing Inn one day while Raid and Trogon were having a drink, declaring loudly at the entrance of the building, “If there is any man willing to brave the forest of Mantoria to escort a carriage to the city of Shanzo he will be highly rewarded in coin.”
Raid, who had been sitting with Trogon by the fireplace listening to the innkeeper’s heavyset wife singing as she dusted and cleaned the inn, lit up at the mention of work. “It looks like our luck is continuing, Trog; now work is actually coming to find us,” laughed Raid. He hopped out of his seat and proclaimed proudly to the whole inn, “We will do it,” drawing the attention of the few customers in the inn to give Raid and Trogon disgusted looks reserved for mercenaries.
Trogon swallowed his mug of nice hot heart-knocker and got up as well, burped, then said, “Me too, I guess.” The young herald strode over to their table and said to them, “Gather any supplies you will need for a long journey and head for the east gate, a carriage will be waiting to be escorted there,” and strode back out of the inn. Raid sat back down on the rickety wooden seat while Trogon, a little drunk, mumbled, “Wonder where we are going?” Raid laughed drunkenly at his friend’s short memory and said, “We are going through the forest of Mantoria; it’s near my hometown Mantria.”
“Forest of Mantoria, huh, is it dangerous?” enquired Trogon, feeling drowsy. Raid shrugged and said innocently, “It’s quite safe”. Now here he was in the middle of a forest where insects were triple their normal size, where trees could slice you up into small pieces and giants wandered around: this place was definitely not safe.
Finally both Raid and Trogon returned to the carriage and eventually got a small fire going with the dead wood they had collected. Raid lounged by the fire, his hand on the hilt of his sword and the other holding a stick that had some sort of dead insect attached to it, being held out to cook over the fire, while contentedly watching the crackling orange flames. Trogon sat down on the stony ground beside the carriage, resting his back against the carriage wheel, and pulled out a piece of dried pork to chew on from his pocket. Sitting there together in silence, they enjoyed the scenery, and the satisfaction gained from being outside, back on the road again.
The carriage door creaked opened and Lady Mira decided to grace them with her presence; she floated to the fire, her yellow skin glowing golden in the flame’s reflection. Her haughty demeanour for the moment was replaced with thoughtfulness and her liquid brown eyes for once seemed sad as she gazed at the flames. Not angry or outraged, but sad. Raid, ever the polite guest, said sarcastically, “Thank you, oh wonderful lady, for gracing us with your presence.” Trogon tensed and gave Raid a sharp kick in the leg. Raid glared at him.
“I overheard you talking earlier, about the world dying,” she said simply.
Trogon groaned inwardly. “We meant no harm by it, we were just talking like we do,” replied Trogon hurriedly before Raid could say something ridiculously stupid again. Lady Mira glanced at them and continued. “Witches are not the cause of the world dying, there is something else, something powerful beneath the earth that is killing the world,” said Mira in a calm voice.
Raid scoffed in disbelief. “Now why would I believe that? You witches and your experiments have been the cause of most of the world’s problems; you’re telling us now that it has nothing to do with the world dying?” The witch looked up at Raid, taking her eyes away from the flame lighting the darkness to give Raid a malevolent stare.
“I didn’t say we had nothing to do with it,” she pronounced. “I said there is something greater, more powerful than the witches that is destroying the world. It’s why I must be in the city of Shanzo in three days; the most powerful witches will be needed in the city, to assist in locating the source that is destroying the world.” Trogon nodded his head; it made sense.
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Raid felt the need to argue because of the cloak she had burned and realised how petty that was in his mind, in the larger scheme of things. He got up and headed to the other side of the carriage to lie down and get some sleep. As Raid got up to leave, Trogon saw Mira’s eyes examine him as he left with a strange expression on her face. All he could tell was that it wasn’t the hatred he had seen so often before.
Trogon, after a few minutes of silence, broke the quiet. “You didn’t need to tell us, you know; we are only paid to protect,” he said softly.
She smiled for the first time, making her appear a lot less intimidating. “I know, it’s just that you two are risking your lives for me and I thought it would be best if you knew at least what you would die for.” Trogon chuckled at that.
“You honestly believe anything could kill us? You saw what Raid pulled off today. The man does that quite often; he is a freak of nature with that sword of his.”
Mira’s eyes widened in surprise and for a moment Trogon saw that same look appear in her eyes again that he had seen when she watched Raid leave. “I can’t believe it, you like him!” exclaimed Trogon. The witch, startled, opened her mouth to speak, but Trogon waved his hands in the air. “No need to say anything; you don’t want him to know, am I right?” said Trogon.
Mira’s cheeks reddened in embarrassment. She whispered furiously to Trogon, “I don’t understand it; he’s handsome enough, but he’s annoying, sarcastic and dirty, not to mention annoying.”
Trogon chuckled in reply. “He has that same effect on most women,” he joked. “I have never managed to find out what it is about him that attracts them. Anyway, we better get some sleep,” and with that he folded his massive arms behind his head and rested his head on them to get some sleep. Lady Mira got up, dusted her gown and went back inside her carriage, pondering what the large mercenary had said.
The sun rose early the next day, peeking through the tree branches to create pools of light within the forest. When the silence is broken by the sound of Raid swearing furiously and noisily enough to wake up both Trogon and Lady Mira from their slumber. A dishevelled Lady Mira appeared out of the carriage with an anxious expression on her face and fingertips moving to cast a flame spell, which had blue fire dancing on her fingers.
Trogon stumbled up off the hard ground, quickly seized a hold of his axe in both hands, then rushed over to the other side of the carriage where Raid had been sleeping. Raid was frantically searching the forest undergrowth and swearing. “Where is my damnable sword? Whoever took my sword is going to wish they hadn’t, I will CUT them up,” said Raid in with a voice imbued with conviction. Both Lady Mira and Trogon, seeing Raid frantically searching for some type of track marks, soon realised they weren’t in danger and let their guard drop.
Trogon, who actually had been excited at the prospect of another fight, slung his axe back into the sling on his shoulder. “What are you doing?” asked Trogon, confused at his friend’s attitude.
Raid turned to Trogon, his eyes bloodshot, mouth twisted in a rictus of fury and body literally shaking with rage, and said, “Some bastard stole my sword last night, while I was slee—” He stopped talking as he saw a fireball come streaking towards him, forcing him to react quickly and get out of the way of the deadly spell by retreating. “You’re telling me, filth, you woke me up, because you lost your precious sword?” hissed an infuriated Mira.
Raid’s knives flashed into his hands and his eyes glinted dangerously. He poised himself on the balls of his feet, ready to strike like a viper. Trogon could feel the air tighten with tension. Raid spoke again, softly, his voice crisp and cutting. “That blade was a gift from my father, you self-righteous fool,” growled Raid. Mira locked eyes with Raid’s in a silent battle of wills.
Trogon, tensing, was about to step in and break up another fight yet again when Raid was distracted by something he saw in the distance behind Lady Mira, allowing his anger to dim down and die. Hope blossomed in Raid’s chest at the sight of a tiny piece of white cloth hanging from a tree branch. He ran past the witch, ignoring her outrage, and went to examine the tree with the piece of white cloth on it. Studying the ground around the tree carefully, he came to the conclusion that the thief had taken off to the west with his sword.
Trogon, after a few moments, joined him near the tree. “Whoever stole my sword has gone west, footprints are pretty small, must be someone short and light on his feet,” commented Raid at Trogon’s approach. Trogon knelt down beside Raid to study the tracks. “Yep, I would have to agree with you, definitely someone else’s tracks, wonder what they are doing out here in the forest?” asked Trogon curiously, not really expecting an answer.
Raid got up from his knees and turned to face the furious Lady Mira, who had not only been ignored, but had been insulted as well. “I am going to get my sword back,” he said in a stony voice that brooked no argument and with a flourish turned his back on her again and started striding back the way they had come.
Mira’s voice called out to him. “YOU CAN’T LEAVE, FILTH, I PAID YOU TO GUARD ME,” she commanded.
“I will meet you at my hometown, Mantria; Trogon will take you there,” replied Raid without stopping. After a few feet Raid was gone from sight and off hunting the thief who dared steal his sword. Unable to believe how furious this man was making her, she huffed loudly and screamed at the sky.
“Well,” said Trogon, feeling awkward at Mira’s outburst. “We better go, we should be able to leave this damn forest by the end of the day and be in the town of Mantria,” he said while nervously watching her. Emotionally drained, Mira nodded her head in silent agreement and helped Trogon hitch the horse back to the carriage. Soon the carriage was trundling forward, with Trogon walking out in front of it and the witch back inside of the carriage, distraught over driving Raid away.
Raid couldn’t believe how relieved he was to be alone again. It felt like he had dropped a stone onto the ground that he had been carrying for miles. The forest wasn’t exactly home with its pesky insects bugging him and having to constantly watch his footing between trees, but other than that, this was true peace. He would miss Trogon; the man was reliable and a bloody maniac in a fight, and he did feel a twinge of guilt at leaving his friend behind with that awfully annoying witch. This, however, was important, he would be damned if he was going to lose his father’s sword to some damn thief.
He kept his eyes focused on the tracks and picked up the pace; soon he felt like he was catching up with the damnable thief. As he continued to trudge through the forest, the fog that had been blocking all view of the ground started to lift, allowing him a see the twisted stony earth that had writhing roots all over the ground. Strange birds had also begun to appear in the forest overhead; they wore shades of black and red feathers and had razor sharp beaks that were slightly hooked near the end. The birds cawed at him as he passed by, their beady black eyes giving him the chills. He nearly tripped several times over the damn tree roots that poked out of the ground in his attempts to keep an eye on the evil-looking birds. The insects that he began to refer to as flying blobs because of their abnormal size had stopped pestering him, probably because of him killing so many of them with the dagger he had found, thought Raid with a nasty smile on his lips.
Hearing grass crackling underfoot ahead, he slowed down and controlled his breathing. He inched forward till he saw a pair of feet sticking out from behind a tree. He smiled at the sight, thinking it was time to show this thief a lesson. He moved quietly forward and swung around the tree to see the thief lying on the ground. Getting closer he saw it that it was a young girl, of all things. Her eyes were shut, moist, with tears dripping down her cheeks. She wore the white clothing of a herald, with its symbol of the mouth embroidered upon her right shoulder. Her left hand clutched her bleeding thigh, where blood was dripping out of a wound that was hastily bandaged with a piece torn from her clothing. In her right hand was his beautiful, precious sword.
As he scrutinised the young girl lying in the foggy surface, he couldn’t help but compare her to his young sister Carlinya. Carlinya, a young spirited girl with a warm heart, who loved listening to stories of the Arcane War and with an insatiable curiosity. She would always sneak out of the town to avoid doing chores, to go out on adventures. Raid remembered the last day he had seen his rambunctious little sister. She had been about to leave, carrying a heavy backpack that weighed her down. She gave him her mischievous grin and told him she wouldn’t be long. A week passed behind and she didn’t return. His heart flared at the memory and his hands tightened into fists. He knew his parents didn’t blame him, but a part of him wished he had left home with her so he could take care of her and make sure she was okay. She would have been the same age as this girl, he thought sadly.
He leaned down and picked up the light wooden blade. The blade slipped out of her weak grasp. Feeling the sword leave her grasp, the girl’s pale blue eyes flickered open. “Help me,” she whimpered to him. He gently picked up the girl, and cradled her small, frail body in his arms. With a last glance at the ground, he turned and headed back the way he had come. Hundreds upon hundreds of strange birds filled the treetops, their small, beady black eyes watching him and the girl hungrily.
Afraid, Raid began to walk faster, carrying the surprisingly light girl in his arms. The flying blobs returned with a vengeance for their murdered kin; this time, however, Raid was unable to defend himself against the icy sting of their mandibles biting into him.
Raid gritted his teeth and tried to ignore the stinging bites of the insects that buzzed around him. At least his light chainmail partially protected him. The girl on the other hand was completely vulnerable, but the flying blobs seemed to ignore her; maybe she didn’t taste as good as him thought Raid with a rueful laugh.
After a while walking on his own, Raid was feeling bored so he began to speak to himself. “You know you really had me worried,” he said mournfully. “My heart nearly popped out of my chest when I couldn’t feel you near me.” The girl’s eyes opened again. “Are you talking to me?” she said with a voice that sounded tired and sluggish.
Raid snorted. “What? Of course not, I was talking to my favourite blade. You have been a pain in my backside, stealing my sword like that, making me walk all over this damn forest, nearly getting me killed by a flock of strange birds,” he said, annoyed. “What’s more, you didn’t even have the courage to at least challenge me to a duel first, before taking my gorgeous sword,” he said sullenly.
The girl’s lips curved in a slight smile. “You’re weird. You know you’re talking about a sword?” Raid laughed. “Me? I am not weird at all. It’s you that’s weird walking out here alone in the forest, and not just any forest, but one well known for being dangerous.” She rolled her eyes in response and closed her eyes, falling into an exhausted sleep again. “Yes, best you get some rest,” ranted Raid as he continued to march through the forest.