I opened my eyes to find myself staring at a run-down, wooden roof.
What just happened? Why was I sleeping? Slowly, I began to remember: The ogre beating me up with his club. Me grabbing my sword and dodging around before making him fall. I must've looked so awesome.
"Why the fuck are you smiling?" A cranky, old voice suddenly said to my right. I turned around, and sighed. Glitsnab. The old goblin mentor that took care of us orphans. Well, "took care" might be a nice way to put it - he worked us children half to death, and entertained himself by making us fight each other with wooden weapons.
Normally, I'd be scared half to death just by looking at him, but today I felt great. I just defeated an ogre with his own weapon. "Did you see me?" I asked excitedly. "How I grabbed the ogre's weapon, how I-"
"Shut the fuck up," he spat. "I don't wanna hear your delusions of grandeur." He got up and sighed, pacing around the cramped room that was our orphans' bedroom. "Well, you did win your first victory. That's something to be proud of."
I beamed. It was rare that Glitsnab ever complimented anyone.
"Still," he snapped. "You're still the weakest compared to the others. You're still a runt. The other orphans are gonna be workin' in the fields for a few more hours... you need training if you're ever gonna amount to anything."
I groaned. "Training? You mean swinging a sword around? I've done enough of that, mind you-" I froze as the left side of my face suddenly flared up in pain. Glitsnab stood next to me, contempt in his eyes.
"Did I tell you to speak? Piece of shit." Glitsnab lowered the hand that just snapped me, before pacing around the room again. "Strength doesn't mean anything. You more than anyone should know that - it wasn't your strength that won you that battle, was it? Knowledge can break a thousand swords."
Of course I'd hear that from a goblin. They're known for their cunning and their speed, using dirty tricks instead of raw power to win battles. "Well, what are we gonna do then?"
"How much do you know about this world?"
Nothing since you never tell us anything, I thought, but even I knew a few tales from this world. "The world was once ruled by malevolent spirits that called themselves gods," I recited. "They fought amongst each other, making the sky itself tear apart and rain blood. When they were weak, five heroes known as the Godslayers destroyed all of them save one, Aramaxum, Mother of Evil, who retreated into the Endless Ocean."
I stopped, and Glitsnab snorted. "That's it? You only know the Tale of Creation? Even a baby could tell me more. Well, it seems I have much to teach you about this world, runt."
***
Currently, the known world, a supercontinent called Anoth along with a few small islands, is divided into five "kingdoms".
The largest is the Aubrerid Empire, taking up nearly half of Anoth. Once just a tiny city, the Aubrerid Empire grew due to one man: Serden Brightheart, Conqueror of Kings, destroyed every single kingdom that stood in his way, conquering and pillaging. When he died, the Aubrerid Empire was the greatest kingdom in Anoth. Due to corruption and foolish leaders, however, the Empire consists mostly of slums full of the poor. Only their first city, Aubrerid, remains a rich and wealthy metropolis.
Long ago, there were many elven kingdoms that dotted the landscape of Anoth. After Serden's death, however, they combined as one to defeat the Aubrerid Empire. After ten years of war, a small chunk of the Empire ceded to the Alliance of Fenlar, as the coalition was called. The newly created empire named themselves the States of Fenlar. They take up about a quarter of Anoth, along with a few of its islands.
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In the remaining quarter of Anoth is two kingdoms locked in seemingly eternal war with each other. On one side is the Mountain Kingdoms, five nations united under one king. Once the Greenskins nearly took over all of Anoth, but they lost much of their territory to the Aubrerid Empire, and a failed campaign against Fenlar forced them to retreat to a group of mountains. Since then they have expanded, but an adversary stands in their way: The Dwarf Cities, underground cities recently united by Kraznim the Unyielding. For fifty years the Mountain Kingdoms and the Dwarf Cities have been fighting, causing thousands of deaths and amounting to nothing.
The final "kingdom" is known as the Wildlands, an archipelago full of all manner of monsters and savage creatures. According to legend, when Aramaxum, the Mother of Evil, retreated into the Endless Ocean, she left a host of her monsters to control a few islands. The Godslayers deemed the monsters too weak to cause any trouble, but they soon grew in strength until the only thing keeping them from controlling Anoth was a few hundred miles of water.
All this and more I taught to Sharog's son. I taught him politics, society, and military tactics. If he was going to be a warrior, this information would be vital. When I was still young, I liked to travel across Anoth. I shared all the knowledge I learned from my journeys to the young orc. He wasn't even ten yet, but he knew more about the world than many nobles.
Sharog... my first and best apprentice. She was the first orphan I had adopted, always trying her best, a voracious reader of books and a master swordsman. She learned all that she could from me, and even went to teach me a few things.In the end, however, death reigns above all. She left to join the military, making a name for herself. She was known as the Elfslayer, soon surpassing myself. I got jealous, and we had an argument that led to her leaving. We never spoke again.
Nine years ago, I received news that Sharog was with child. It had been over ten years since we last saw each other after the bitter argument, but we rejoiced like old friends. I was the only one that sat next to her as she lay dying after giving birth to Larek. "Glitsnab," she laughed. "No matter how many times I say it, the name still sounds strange on my tongue."
"You're not dying today," I comforted her.
Ignoring me, she continued: "Promise me something, Glitsnab... my son. Make sure he grows up to become a warrior. I have a feeling... he will surpass us both."
"You're not dying, Sharog-"
"Promise me."
I paused, letting the tears fall freely from my face. "...I promise."
She smiled, closed her eyes, and never spoke again.
Larek was a runt. Weak, small, whiney, and strange. He was nothing like his mother... but I promised he would grow up to become a warrior. I've broken many promises before, but I'm not breaking this one.
***
My body ached all over as I held the steel sword. Glitsnab, looking as old and cantankerous as ever, glared at me contemptuously while holding a wooden one. "I told you not to hold back," he laughed.
"I'm not." I lunged forwards with my sword, trying to cut the goblin's stomach, but he sidestepped and slammed his weapon into my arm. Ouch. Another bruise.
It's been nearly a year since Glitsnab began to train me. Three months ago, he told me I would also have to sharpen my fighting skills. The goblin was a merciless mentor: Each day I would be beaten until I could hardly move. I would shamble to bed, before waking up the next day and starting over.
"Even if you tried, you could never cut me," Glitsnab chuckled, as he moved forward, fast as lightning. Before I knew it, I had been disarmed and one of my teeth had been knocked out. With a sudden rage I charged at my mentor, but he only jumped into the air and slammed the back of my head with his cudgel.
I collapsed to the ground, defeated. "Ugn..." It was so frustrating, the feeling of not making any progress.
There was a pause, before Glitsnab suddenly announced: "Tomorrow... you're going to have a training battle again."
I rolled my eyes. "I know. I've been having training battles with you forever-"
"Not with me. With one of your peers."
One of my peers? "You mean... the orphans?" I haven't seen the orphans since my training began. I had been trained in secret... sometimes I've wondered how the others were doing. Now I'd meet them again.
Glitsnab nodded. "Let's see how much progress you've made over the past year."
I groaned. Great. The memory of the ogre slamming his club into my head was still ingrained in my memory. Three months of training... I feel like I hadn't improved at all. The cycle of humiliation and defeat was about to begin once again.