New Prologue:
It is a deep moonless night. A perfect time, to tell the stories of our world. The civilian folks were only saved through the pantheon of the gods but naturally a story cannot end so fast.
The mighty beast and their kin are trapped in a deep sleep and the gods are preparing to bring new immortal soldiers to the delayed but inescapable war between men and beast.
This is just plain wrong! A story needs a fair chance, even for the bad guys!
Turmoil, treason, war, survival all this are the key ingredients for a good story. Luckily the preparations are already done. The northern marauders will once again set sail to the coats of the mainland and plunder for new slaves and winter provisions. The destroyed Dungeon in the plains of Pleggia will become a new brooding point for all kinds of monster and a new Monster Lord might rise again.
Even the king’s agreement already shows signs of crumbling. Now that the mighty beasts are no longer active pride, order, trust are replaced by greed and jealousy. The former unity of the humanoids starts to crumble and even Grom the stubborn might not be able to stop the resulting wars.
Even now the foreshadowing Events show their sign. A wandering caravan is on their way through the Plains of Pleggia. A truly rare sight. The plains are surrounded by wavering mountains and Wyvern use these mountains as their breeding place while cliff crawlers sneak around the unreachable rest. Some say even a dargon uses the mountains as a hiding place.
The caravan naturally is not from simple folks and carries a frightening artifact. Soldiers armed with the best equipment and a dozen mages support the troupes on their journey. Even an old one is travelling with them.
Fate brought the caravan here. the story must be rewritten once again. Maybe a new participant might be able to join the fray. It is time to expand the books.
The caravan stopped its march. Men and animals alike were tired and needed to rest for the long journey ahead. While most of the troops rested only the patrols were up and tried to tiredly stare into the darkness. The shock was great once one patrol noticed that their torched revealed almost a full surrounding of lightly flashing eyes. Their superior needed to be warned.
They had to show these beasts their wraith, let them fell how an ice-cold sword will always be stronger than rotting fangs or a crude club. Even in a head on battle mindless monster could never compare to a smart humanoid. Each swing would cut a monster’s flesh and pumping adrenaline would follow. Only their battle instincts were needed, let their tired minds find true peace even for a short while.
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
The monsters and beast felt a carving need to gather around their strange guest.
They heard whispers of animalic and fanatic orders which assured them that they would be granted their wish. It was the first time that these… animals… could truly think. They thought of dreams, a future, a better life and all they had to was to head the orders of the whispers. They only needed to gather around their camp and once the sun rises they would be themselves again, a beast, ready to hunt for their next food.
And a fight was wrought out, let the lucky live.
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Old Prologue:
In a dreary, moon less night a finely armed caravan moved through the human forbidden plains of Pleggia. A truly rare sight. The plains of Pleggia were surrounded by towering mountains. Every urge of travel for even the finest adventurer were trampled by the unforgiving terrain.
Furthermore, the mountains were a breeding place for wyvern and cliffcrawlers. Rumors had it, that even a dargon nested as one of the many mountains. Therefore, it was no surprise that no civil species dared to claim this territory.
Naturally the plains alone were dangerous enough to endanger the life of any caravan. But how could a big and fully armed caravan be able to travel so far into one of the many life endangering zones of Tera.
Could it be that Tera was on the brink of another decade of death?
Some say Gorm the stubborn finally cut his ties with the empire, others whisper a Monster lord is on his rise but the deepest fear of all was the return of the bloodthirsty marauders from the north.
While the future is unknown and ever changing only the present remain for the daring.
The caravan marched till deep in the night, but the spells and torches could only illuminate poorly the wilderness ahead of them.
Each illumination spell revealed dozens of daring, sparkling eyes only waiting for easy prey. The first half of the night was meet with only minor struggles from bold beasts, but the later part of the night left the soldiers on guard very uneasy.
Only the brightest illumination spell showed that the caravan was almost complete surrounded from sparkling hidden eyes. Some could assume that the beast learned from the mistakes of their fellow kin but that would undermine the reality of their situation.
A decision had to be made, could they lose their followers by travelling further into the plains or would they have to acknowledge that the beasts were tailing them, most likely even having a monster commanding them for a future attack.
The decision was not a simple one, the caravan had an artifact of utmost importance and their journey was long, if they were to stop here what would guarantee them that they could confront the sentient monster.
In the end the caravan still did hold their march. The beasts had lowered the moral drastically and the deep darkness of the night only increased the unease of the guards. The human leader hoped his troops would show more braveness at daybreak and used this chance to get himself some quick rest.
At daybreak the broad outline of a giant monster could be seen. It was surrounded by dozens of goblins, wolves, red bears and many more monsters. It stepped itself out of the mass of fangs and clubs and showed its twin headed face. It was an ogre and not a small one.
With a height of 4m, it could be called a small giant. Sadly, for the caravan the height of the twin headed ogre was only a part of his strength. The ogre started to vicious roar which lead his minions to start a frenzy rush to the caravan. The ogre revealed his proficiency over the arcane and flames appeared around his hands.
It was time to spill blood.
At one of the many wagons as one of the many monsters a troll could be see rushing to a wagon. It was a normal rock troll or as some called them cave trolls. His height was around 2,50m and he wielded a small tree trunk, he was the definition of a normal troll. His name is Strong.