Rising tensions throughout the world of Thora have come to a head in recent years. To the north-west, Albion has subjugated the subcontinent island nation of Scottsdale after 36 years of conflict. East of Albion, separated by a great mountain range, the Kingdom of Estrain has been stagnant for centuries since securing their half of the north-western continent, Abira. In the south-west, the continent of Gefan has descended into total war between the four nations inhabiting it, each seeking to unite their continent under one banner. Looking east at the largest continent, Klibaivor, the Saroth empire controls a third of the land. Trapped in the north is Xudroevania. Between them and Saroth along the eastern shores and stretching into the central regions is Casmar. Xudroevania has closed their borders to the other two as they both mobilize for war to decide who shall reign supreme, not wanting to be involved due to having a friendship with both. South of this continent is the island nation of Castro, shrouded in mystery as few have ventured there in well over a century.

Between these continents lay three islands. In the center, the Grand Duchy of Welland and to its south the other two islands make up the Land of the Dead, home to the Arch-Lich Vecna and the Raven Queen. Both individuals are worshiped practically as Gods, their powers unimaginable to all but a handful in this world. For reasons that may never be known, the two suddenly waged war on one another, releasing powerful necrotic energy across the world. The nearby Grand Duchy of Welland was the hardest hit, undead hordes numbering in the millions appearing simultaneously across its land. This, is where our story begins.

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The day began as any other, waking up just before the sun peaks the horizon. Tend to the cattle and chickens, prepare nets and rods for the boats, figure out which outfit is the least smelly, and children already causing mayhem. In this small, insignificant fishing village across the straits from Estrain, a young boy named Siari noticed something strange. Movement in the treeline, an ominous lavender haze creeping closer to the village.

“Dad, what is that?!” The boy shouted to his father.

“Hm?” The man, hearing his son, looks in his direction. “By the gods… sound the alarm” he says. “SOUND THE ALARM!”

Panic engulfs the village within moments as others take notice of what is approaching. “It’s an undead horde! Get to the boats!” Someone shouts out. As if on queue, ghouls and skeletons began charging out of the forest. A small child, no older than five is the first to fall. Too small to be of notice, the horde stampedes over them. Death was near instant, the impact alone knocking them unconscious.

Siari ran along the shore with his family as screams could be heard behind them. Being the first to notice, they fled almost a minute before the others. Those who are still alive rush towards the boats as well, but most get overrun long before reaching the beach.

“RUN BOYS, DO NOT LOOK BACK!” His father shouts. His younger brother, Lirus, trips and falls in his panic. Running back to help him, he shouts to Siari “Get your mother and the baby aboard that vessel and leave! We’ll swim out to you!”

Flames have engulfed the village in the background, and the hordes move upon them. An arrow flies out and hits his mother in the back of the neck, knocking her unconscious as she falls into the boat. Siari cannot speak, he just begins rowing out to open sea as fast as he can. His baby brother, Douglas, is crying loudly after being thrown out of his mother’s arms. In the distance, he can hear his father cry out in horror. He looks up and witnesses a sight that will haunt him for years. Lirus’s head has been smashed in by an undead troll, and his father is missing his legs. He can see a foot in the troll's mouth, swaying side to side as the leg is chewed apart.

“Father! I’m coming back, just get into the water and we can grab you!” Siari screams out.

His father shouts back “Don’t son, take care of your mother for –AGHH!” he’s cut off as the troll picks him up. Siari cannot hear what he says next, but he sees his mouth move ‘I love you son’ before the troll bites his entire upper body off, blood and entrails splattering its chest and falling to the ground.

Everything around Siari seems to slow, his brother’s wailing no longer audible. All he can do is stare at the site on the beach as the small fishing boat drifts further to sea. Feeling something running down his cheeks, he realizes he is crying. Someone is screaming, but he cannot tell who. Eventually, it becomes apparent the screams are his own.

This continues for almost an hour. Eventually calming down, he begins tending to his baby brother and making sure his mother is still alive. Anything to forget the pain and sights of this day. Some luck at least appears, his mother’s wound isn’t fatal as the arrow didn’t penetrate, the arrowhead having only skinned the neck. Siari knows he must begin rowing towards the fortress town of Hurlton Keep in Estrain, just across the straight, but he struggles to hold the oars. It takes hours to travel only half the distance, maybe 3 or 4 kilometers, even with the waves pushing him along faster.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Cursing his lack of strength, he tries to rest. ‘I love you son’, the image of his father mouthing those words flashes into his mind as his eyes close. He cannot sleep, not yet. His mother’s wounds need tending to or else it will fester, his brother needs milk, and they all need warm blankets for the night. Further onward he pushes, slowly inching his way towards the port in the distance. Almost 13 full hours after this nightmare began, they reached the port. No signs of anyone else from his village can be seen, save for one raft filled with corpses.

The crew of a docked merchant vessel sees them approaching and rush out to help. As he sees two of them dive into the water to aid him, he finally collapses in exhaustion. The last image to cross his eyes before sleep overtakes him is one of the sailors climbing aboard and trying to tell him something, patting his head.

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One year has passed since the war began, Siari turning 14 a few weeks ago. His boat was the only one of two to make it across, and only one person on the other boat survived. Alayna, his mother, survived but is permanently scarred. She can only stand a few hours a day, and her arms take much effort to use. His baby brother, Douglas, is 3 now. Siari has had to become the provider in his father’s place. Taking up odd jobs with the local guilds, menial labor for the city, even just babysitting. Anything to make enough to feed his family.

“Hey kid, watch where you’re going!” a large, bulky man shouts at Siari.

Not paying attention, he walked into the man without noticing. “Apologize you brat!” The man throws a punch.

Quickly moving to the side, Siari barely dodges the blow. Not wanting to give the brute a second to think, he immediately dashes behind him and smashes his heavy backpack against the man’s head. This causes the man to stumble forward, but not much damage was actually done.

‘Dammit, I’m still too weak…’ Siari curses himself. Being only 14, he is severely lacking in strength compared to the full grown adult.

The man immediately turns to retaliate, his expression turning to that of a beast looking to slaughter a rabbit who dared to fight back. Siari drops his bag and steps back, frightened but knowing he cannot run away.

“HALT, cease your fighting immediately!” a voice shouts out. Guards have pushed their way through a crowd that had gathered without the two noticing and are now demanding they surrender.

Siari immediately puts his hands in the air, showing he is unarmed. The brutish man, either not noticing the guards or not caring, takes the opportunity to kick him in the chest. He’s sent flying back a few feet, landing hard and falling unconscious.

Waking up an hour later, the scenery has changed drastically. I've been moved, he thinks. Attempting to move, he feels a sharp pain through his lower right rib. A slight yelp escapes his mouth, but not much more. Siari examines his surroundings with great attention, trying to determine where this room could be. He's lying upon an old sofa, across from a newer sofa separated by a rectangular table. No windows, grey brick walls and a single wooden door to his left. To his right, a few of the bricks seem to be loose. Good, a possible esca-

Suddenly, the door opens and an individual glad in full plate armor enters. "Awake already are ya, full of surprises it would seem." A deep voice echoes from the man.

Siari tensed up, his breathing almost stopping. He wasn't entirely sure, but his face must've shown a mix of fear and rage.

"Calm down kid, one of our members vouched for you and brought you here for care after the guards took the drunkard. Your ribs were caved in partially, had to use a potion to get you mostly healed. No sudden movements or excess weight for the day, it was a regeneration potion not instant health." The man explained.

Relaxing a bit, Siari finally spoke. "Who are you… and what is to become of me? I can't possibly pay you for the potion."

"I'm Kirgnot, leader of the Battered Hammer mercenary group. We think you have some talent, so how'd you like to train and work for us?" The man said while now removing his helmet. A rough, wrinkled, and scarred face that screams of experience from a hundred battles with an almost permanent glare piercing those who dare make eye contact.

Siari is taken aback, shocked by the offer. Kirgnot's unsympathetic and rough look doesn't help, only serving to further his hesitation. Maybe with them, I can finally not be weak. But what about mother, what about Douglas? "What about my family, my mother cannot work and neither can my brother. They'll starve without me."

"Kid, I won't lie to you. It's gonna be tough. We can guarantee you enough pay to care for them while training, but you have to enter a contract with me. Agree here and now to swear your service to our merry band for the next 5 years, barring any events such as disbandment, and we'll provide a salary of 1 gold per month until the end of your contract. If you die, they'll receive 1 silver plate. Depending on your performance, maybe a bonus or permanent pay increase can be made. Now, make your decision."

Siari looks down, contemplating for a moment. The pay is over double what he currently makes, plus the possibility of bonuses. Resolved, he looks Kirgnot in the eyes. "I accept. Please, let me join the Battered Hammer."