A SHADOW OVER THE TERKIN MOUNTAINS

Every day, the people of Omkra received more bad news regarding the invasion in the north. A large horde of felikryn had migrated to the Terkin Mountains, within which stood the large, halfling city. They travelled across the mountain range, raiding every settlement on their path, and enslaving the populace. Their ruthless army moved as a devastating wave over this newly acquired territory, striking every major city.

These feline warriors had come from an empire known as the Arshaks. They had entered the Terkin Mountains from the east, where they had taken hold of the Vargal Tundra, the Gorodim Swamp and the Terkin Flats in previous years.

They had first chosen to travel north, focusing on the large human and kryn settlements in the area, then following the northern shore, and reaching the Gadrial ocean the following summer. For a time, they had remained north, giving the southern settlements time to prepare their defences.

As winter slowly arrived, however, the raiders made their way south. Many cities gathered to try and stop them, but they didn’t stand a chance. They were outnumbered and outmatched against the fierce felikryn warriors. Thus, the Arshaks had been free to continue raiding the central region of the Terkin Mountains, slowly making their way south as winter set in throughout the mountains.

Omkra was located near the southern border, giving the city few options when it came to escaping. To the east was the Gadrial, a vast ocean, which became treacherous in the winter months. To the west, the Arshak Empire had large settlements and hunted on the plains known as the Terkin Flats, patrolling both the land and the air above.

To the south was an ancient forest of giant trees called Nilduras, in which few ever dared to venture. It was said to be home to creatures, like elves, who were far more dangerous and merciless than the felikryn, according to the legends. These had been told in Omkra over the centuries that had passed since they had made contact with anyone from the forest.

Few were able to afford passage on ships from their continent, Simanorion, to the continent of Edanorion to the east. These would only be making one trip as they did not dare sail on the northern Gadrial during winter, making the fare exceedingly expensive. Thus, it seemed as though the remaining citizens were forced to stay and await their doom at the hands of the Arshaks.

The lords of Omkra had decided to urge their people to stay within the city and prepare for departure. They had chosen to wait until the Arshaks were near, preparing as best they could, then travel east. They were hoping to find a place to settle in the north of the Eastern Region of the great forest. These unknown lands would surely be perilous, but at least if this led to their deaths, they would die as free halflings and not the slaves of the Arshaks.

The day of their departure came much sooner than they had anticipated, however, as they Arshaks made their way south in a hurry, gathering along the border of the forest.

The night before, the town had been celebrating under the shimmering northern lights, which were thought to be the spirits of their ancestors greeting them. A spontaneous celebration had occurred as the green lights were especially active and visible above their city.

The Omkrians were caught by surprise as two travellers brought news that the Arshaks were approaching Omkra early that morning. The pleasant, light-hearted mood they had recovered in their celebration was quickly replaced by a state of panic as they rushed to pack their last few belongings and leave on the eastern road.

Some would turn north, travelling up to the small villages of halflings within the mountains, nearby. They would then warn these villages and travel east using sleds pulled by dogs on the snow-covered, mountain roads. Those who were wealthier or those whose profession required them, would leave on their wagons, which were often rudimentary and cumbersome. Most of the citizens, however, would be forced to take the eastern road on foot, clogging up the narrow pass in their frantic escape.

Chaos erupted in the streets as they became more crowded than they had ever been. The usually polite and respectful citizens of Omkra were pushing and shoving each other in hopes of escaping the city as quickly as possible.

A testament to the extent of this uncharacteristic behaviour was the fact that the halflings weren’t following the ancient tradition of the Tilmir. This was custom among halflings which consisted of wearing different coloured clothing when leaving their cities based on the purpose of their departure.

It had first begun for the sake of stealth, when warriors left, as the halflings enjoyed wearing bright colours within their cities and the colour of the capes they donned as they ventured out would depend on their destination. With time, however, it had become a simple tradition and there were capes of many different colours available to all who passed through the city gates.

The halflings of Omkra typically wore a lot of light blue. The streets were also filled with large banners and awnings of the same colour, which went well with the ochre yellow, orange and brown roofs of the city. They would typically switch to orange capes, matching the roofs, when they left for general reasons that didn’t have a colour assigned to them.

There was even a small building dedicated to the Tilmir at every gate, where capes were handed out. This had initially been made for the soldiers of Omkra, but capes were now given to anyone who didn’t have the right colour of clothing upon leaving.

When leaving the city for war, the soldiers wore red capes, matching the dark-red roofs of military buildings. When leaving for patrol, they wore grey cloaks that matched the rocky mountains. Dark blue was worn when leaving for sea voyages. When leaving for a wedding, the halflings would wear white. When leaving for a funeral, they would wear black. Purple was worn when leaving the city for religious or spiritual gatherings. Finally, a dark yellow was worn when leaving for diplomatic missions.

This day, however, most halflings remained in their light blue clothes as they fled the city. It was almost as if the soul of the city itself was leaving through the eastern gate. A thought which comforted the lords of Omkra as they themselves left among the crowd in their ornate carriages. It was a dreadful day, but at least the citizens would have a chance of fleeing, or so they thought.

Korlak Fuinn had arrived in Omkra almost ten years before, as an infant, which would represent seventeen earth years. His family had been living in a large, halfling kingdom called Mederlas on an island to the east. A massive fire had devasted the forest island and destroyed the entire kingdom in the span of a few days.

As both his parents had perished in the fire, Korlak’s uncle, Lodar, had brought him to the mainland to start a new life. He had lost his wife and two children in the fires which engulfed the island.

Lodar worked hard to earn a living as one of many Mederlan immigrants in Omkra and, after struggling to keep a steady job due to alcoholism, he chose to stop drinking and join the military.

His previous experience in the Mederlan military had allowed him to rise through the ranks fairly quickly and provide a stable life for Korlak as he grew up.

When he came of age, Korlak too joined the military and his years of combat training with Lodar proved to be fruitful, as he became one of Omkra’s most skilled warriors.

The young halfling also possessed a particular asset, which had earned him quite the reputation. He had the Gift of Nirdalune, which allowed him to speak telepathically with animals.

Korlak had first realised he had this gift by hearing the thoughts of a baby flying squirrel, one day. This occurred as he was trying to bring it back to a tree, near the northern borders of the forest of Nilduras, from which he assumed it had come.

It was a species of flying squirrel known as the siberian flying squirrel, which was common to the Northern Region of the forest, but also lived in some parts of the Terkin Mountains. The squirrel, which he later named Sedri, became his companion and often helped him scout out ahead while travelling or eavesdrop on conversations.

The halfling left town when he was on leave and explored the mountains to the south of Omkra, often admiring the magnificent forest, which he dared not enter. He had read many things about it and was fascinated by the mystical lands, all the while being terrified of setting foot in it, as were most outsiders.

To the knowledge of the citizens of Omkra, no one had been in the forest and returned in hundreds of years. Knowing this, Korlak stayed far from its borders, admiring the colourful purple canopy from the tops of mountains. It did, however, spark his curiosity.

At the time of the evacuation, Lodar Fuinn had become a general and Korlak was assigned as one of his personal bodyguards. Of the three guards assigned to Lodar, Korlak was the youngest and least experienced. Thus, his uncle regularly chose to send him on many errands and test his combat skills and tactics.

The Gift of Nirdalune was often very practical as Korlak gathered information from surrounding animals when the general’s troops travelled. His skill had developed from the ability to communicatee with small critters in a basic way, to making connections with large creatures like deer and goats. More cunning creatures, like wolves, were still hard to reach, however.

Korlak was a fairly typical halfling. He was just under ninety centimetres in height. He had thin, long, pointy ears and a slender, angular face. Halflings had similar physical characteristics to the elves but were much smaller in stature.

Korlak loved to go on adventures and also enjoyed the comfort of home or attending the many large celebrations which were organized in Omkra. The halflings seemed to have developed a skill for finding excuses to throw a party.

Korlak had long, black hair, which he attached in a topknot that fell down onto his neck, reaching his upper back. He had a kind, child-like face, which often had a serious expression but also brightened up into a smile as the halfling’s lively nature surfaced.

What set Korlak apart, physically, were his golden eyes. The halfling had never found anyone else with eyes of this unusual colour, which resembled light honey. He had a thin, muscular build, which gave him less brute force than bigger halflings or dwarves, but allowed him far more agility, much like that of the elves.

Another typical halfling trait of Korlak’s was his great curiosity. This tended to lead the short-folk into both good and bad situations, keeping their lives exciting. Few, however, were as adventurous as Korlak, who often volunteered to join patrols or missions far and wide across the territory the through which Omkrian forces ventured.

Despite his eagerness to serve and his many successes, however, the halfling had yet to rise through the ranks of the Omkrian army. He remained one of Lodar’s guards while in town or when accompanying him on his missions. Otherwise, he was a simple soldier. Just another warrior of Omkra, despite his great skill in combat.

Korlak lived in a small, adjoining building beside Lodar’s house with the general’s other two bodyguards. These two halflings had guarded other generals before Lodar and were slowly approaching the end of their time in the Omkrian military. The age difference and their lack of enthusiasm made it hard for Korlak to connect with them, but he had learned a great deal from them when it came to being a bodyguard.

He was now twelve years of age, the equivalent of twenty earth years, and dreamt of adventures beyond the small portion of the Terkin Mountains within which most of his life had taken place thus far. He enjoyed life in the mountainous region but was intrigued by the world which existed beyond it.

The night before the evacuation, Lodar had returned from an urgent meeting during with news of the approaching Arshak forces. He had ordered his guards to help pack provisions and valuables from his household into three wagons that had been brought over. During this time, he focused on sending the soldiers in his charge around to warn the citizens in his assigned section of the city.

Early in the morning, he had returned home to help his bodyguards with the preparations and let them know that they could bring some of their personal belongings on his wagons. He had brought a few elderly halflings with him, allowing them to put some of their belongings in the wagons as well.

The bodyguards took turns to go into the adjoining house and pack up their few belongings while the others continued to focus on packing Lodar’s. When it came time for Korlak to do the same, however, Lodar told him that he needed to talk to him and followed him in.

“Don’t worry about me, commander.” Said Korlak as Lodar entered. “I’m sad to leave Omkra, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t afraid, but…”

“That’s not why I’m here.” Interrupted Lodar. “I am worried for you and for all Omkraians, but I know you have what it takes to get through this.”

Korlak’s mouth opened slightly in surprise and he looked to the floor, slightly embarrassed by his assumption.

“You will not be coming east with us, Korlak.” Continued Lodar. Korlak’s head perked back up to look at Lodar, causing his small topknot of black hair to bounce.

“I have been asked to select a warrior for a very important mission and you are the right halfling for the task, in my opinion.” Lodar paused, noticing Korlak adjust his posture as pride filled his eyes and his shoulders rose. “We were warned of the approaching Arshak forces by two travellers. A harekryn and a foxkryn. They are travelling south. You will be accompanying them.”

Korlak’s initial feeling of sadness that he would not be able to remain with the other Omkrians was replaced by feelings of intrigue and confusion.

“The lords of Omkra have decided that our best hope is to seek help from an ancient empire far to the west called Skaria. They once ruled over much of Simanorion and it is said that they often came to the aid of those in need, providing a bit of justice in this cruel world.” Korlak nodded, remembering tales of the Skarian knights.

Lodar looked into his nephew’s eyes as he continued, his voice growing intense. “The Skaria that once existed is no more and the empire’s power has diminished greatly, but if we have a hope of one day freeing the Terkin mountains, it is with the help of those warriors of the west.”

“But the Arshaks are to the west.” Said Korlak, frustration in his soft voice. “How can we ever hope to get word to the Skarians?”

“The easternmost outpost of the Skarian Empire is a fortress called Arendil, in the Noriondir mountains, south of the forest of Nilduras. The lords of Omkra have decided to send emissaries to this place in order to urge the Skarians to return to these parts of Simanorion and save the people of the Terkin mountains. The only way to reach it, however, is by crossing the forest.”

Korlak’s eyes widened once again, the many cautionary tales of the forest he had heard throughout his childhood, flooding his mind with visions of terrible elves and savage beasts.

“A large force would draw the attention of the elves and they would surely turn us back at the least.” Continued Lodar. “But a small group could hope to make its way through the vast forest in order to reach the Prairies of Syleta and make its way into the mountains.” Lodar paused, turning his head to look at a small wooden chest in Korlak’s room, where the halfling kept most of his belongings.

“You should pack your things while I explain!” Said the halfling commander, hurriedly.

Korlak began packing the few possessions he had, the decisions easy as he had little of sentimental or monetary value.

“Now, the lords have chosen to send emissaries to Arendil through different sections of the forest.” Continued Lodar. “I was able to ensure you would be given the best chance. We have made a deal with the harekryn and the foxkryn for them to guide you. The harekryn claims to have been in the forest and to know his way through the Northern Region. He has worked as a guide for the few merchants who dare enter it.”

Lodar paused briefly, allowing Korlak to process the information, then continued: “In exchange for their services, they have asked that you help them find the harekryn’s spouse, from whom he was separated as they fled the Arshaks. I was able to convince the lords to send you as the Gift of Nirdalune will surely be helpful in tracking her down and of the few who have it, you have the greatest mastery over it.”

Korlak was speechless. He was unsure how to feel about the whole situation. On one hand, he felt slightly excited at the prospect of going on an adventure, but on the other, he was terrified of the dangers he would surely face and felt his mission was next to impossible. He would likely be going to his death, but, at least, it would be better than being enslaved by the Arshaks. In truth, the people of Omkra had little hope of escaping the felikryn and would likely all be enslaved or killed.

“But I want to stay with our people and protect them.” Answered Korlak, finding anger to be the easiest emotion to express in that moment.

“We are greatly outnumbered and outmatched.” Answered Lodar. “The felikryn are skilled warriors. We won’t stand a chance if they catch up to us.” He paused, noticing Korlak reaction to be one of fear, fear for the lives of his people.

“We should be able to escape to the east.” Continued Lodar, hoping to reassure his nephew. “We can find a place to hide along the shores of the Gadrial. We can build ships and cross over to Mederlas and see if it has become habitable again. However, in the long run, our hope returning to Omkra lies in seeking help from an army which expel the Arshaks from these lands. This is the best way for you to help your people.” Answered Lodar in a kind but firm tone, his voice still filled with intensity.

“But I…” Korlak began to retort.

“It’s an order.” Said the general in a stern voice. “It is not up for debate.”

Korlak’s shoulders dropped, and he sighed. “Yes, general.” Said the young halfling. “I’m sorry.”

“I am sorry you have to go through this, Korlak.” Said Lodar, his tone far gentler and softer.” As your uncle. I wish you could have had a different life, but there is nothing I can do now to change that. This is the best option for you, trust me.”

Lodar stepped forward, wrapping his arms around his nephew. As he let go of Korlak and stepped back, Lodar took a sharp breath and said: “Now, you must move quickly. The harekryn is waiting outside and he says the Arshaks will likely be sending a small force through the south road to cut off our escape. Thankfully, there is no access to the eastern road from the north for several kilometers, so it should remain clear for us.”

Korlak was already wearing his leather-covered, iron armour and had made some food provisions for himself, which he quickly placed in a large bag. He threw the bag over his shoulder, resting it against his lower back, the light, leather strap running across his chest. Also on his back was his weapon, a glaive polearm, fashioned in a style known as a pudao.

The long, wooden pole was painted black, and the blade was made of a shiny, silver alloy. The pole was gilded with five elegant, golden rings, which were made up of small interweaving lines around the shaft. The gilding resembled the stylized calligraphy, with the curved lines hooking up or down as they ended, but the rings weren’t in the shape of letters. They were meant to represent the swirling wind around the blade as it flowed through the air.

These were spread out along the shaft, the top one, which was larger than the rest, attaching the blade to the pole. Unlike the rest, which only had horizontal lines that curved vertically as they ended, this top ring had vertical lines, creating a sense of upward flow drawing the viewer’s eyes up as they continued onto the blade. The bottom ring, which was only slightly bigger than the three along the shaft, formed the pommel, which had a simple. The pommel had a simple triangular shape, resembling the tip of a quill, which served as a small spear-tip on occasion, puncturing the enemy.

A long, thin, dark-red ribbon was attached to the shaft, just below the highest golden ring, matching an even smaller ribbon that was attached to the end of the pommel, within the quill shaped triangle.

These were ribbons marking Korlak’s weapon as the weapon of an Omkrian soldier. Most soldiers wore these around their arms or ankles, though a few wore them as headbands or fastened them to their weapons. They were strictly decorative, but had sentimental value to Omkrian warriors, as they represented their duty to Omkra and its citizens.

What was most unusual about Korlak’s weapon, other than the fact that pudao polearms weren’t typically used in Omkra, was a hole along the back edge of the blade in the shape of a marten, the symbol of House Fuinn. The creature seemed to be leaping toward the top of the weapon, its body slightly curved in the opposite direction of the dull edge of the blade, above its back.

Known for their speed, agility, ferocity, and overall capacity to hunt, martens represented the qualities that the warriors of House Fuinn most valued. They also shared a similar lifestyle as the Fuinn family had for centuries, living within the great gelvors of Mederlas. There, the Fuinns had been a prominent family from which many famous warriors had emerged. But now, only two remained and they no longer lived high within the giant trees, but with a wide valley in the southern Terkin Mountains.

Korlak’s pudao, which he had named Marten’s Fang, was the only material possession which was dear to him. Everything else he wore was in no way unique to him.

This blade, which Lodar had gifted him, was the only part of his attire that held any emotional value. It was also the only part he had been able to choose for himself. The rest of his clothes were the uniform of a soldier of Omkra.

The Omkrian uniform consisted of black pants, which were often more of a fading grey colour with many holes and mud stains. On top of this was a white shirt with long sleeves, which was usually in much better shape than the pants as it was made of a finer material by the skilled clothiers of Omkra.

On top of these garments, Omkrians wore a set of iron armour consisting of a chest piece, pauldrons to protect their shoulders, vambraces to protect their wrists and grieves to protect their shins and knees. These were decorated with brass edgings and brown leather, covering the iron. Many also wore nasal helmets, which were also made of iron.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

The traditional helmets worn in the Terkin mountains were composed of a skull cap with two cheek guards and camail, a piece of chainmail which served to protect the wearer’s neck. The iron helm had brass edging and decorations which included the small nasal piece that protected the wearer’s nose. Just as with the rest of the armour, the iron was typically covered in a thin layer of brown leather.

Many also had a small, conical piece of brass, or one in the shape of an animal, protruding from the very top of the helmet. These were used to fasten plumes of long, black horsehair, which draped down to the warrior’s shoulders.

These exquisitely crafted helms were the pride of many warriors, but Korlak hadn’t worn one since his early years in the military, preferring not to have his vision and mobility impaired.

Completing the Omkrian uniform was a piece of blue fabric. Most wore it as a shoulder cape, letting it drape down one side of their backs, in a the Simanorion style. Generals, however, wore the long piece of light blue fabric across their chests as a sash.

Officers in the Omrkian military also wore iron armour, outlined and decorated with copper, matching the helmets, but the iron was painted black, adding to its contrast with the copper outlines. The halflings of the Terkin mountains had adopted this style of armour from the Skarians during the golden age of their empire, when it was still vast and powerful. During this age, it had become fashionable to follow Skarian customs in many cultures, throughout Simanorion.

As Korlak held his uncle in his arms one last time before exiting the front door, he wondered when he would see him next, the though of never seeing him again weighing heavy on his heart.

As Korlak stepped back, Lodar hoped to lighten the mood by saying: “You look like a city guard in those new clothes!”

Korlak had returned from a patrol a few days before with his old clothes torn to shreds from having crossed through a region thick with thorny plants. This led to the captain leading the mission to issue new uniforms for all those involved. Thus, Korlak wore fresh, new clothes, his pants still perfectly black and is shirt bright white, as opposed to the cream white they usually took on after being washed a few times.

This clean look made it seem as though he was a town guard. They rarely left Omkra and were able to keep their clothes in pristine condition. Though, the leather on Korlak’s armour was worn and he had many scrapes and dents.

As Korlak stepped out of the house, he saw that the streets in front were still filled with halflings on their way out of town. He passed through the courtyard, his uncle walking beside him in silence. They walked through the metal gate between the two large walls that blocked off the courtyard and Korlak noticed that, leaning against one of these walls with his arms crossed, watching the crowd, was the harekryn Lodar had mentioned. As the two halflings approached, the harekryn’s head quickly turned to look at them and his long ears perked up.

“Korlak, this is Sefaloy. His pronouns are he and him.” Said Lodar in a hurried voice before turning to the harekryn. “Sir, this is Korlak Fuinn, my nephew. He also goes by he and him.” He gestured toward Korlak. “He will accompany you on your journey, as we discussed.”

Sefaloy greeted the halfling with a slight bow of his head.

“I don’t mean to be rude, but our journey won’t be very long if we don’t hurry.” Said the harekryn “Thank you for your help, general.” He then turned to Korlak. “We’ll have plenty of time to get to know each other on the road, but for now we need to get out of this city and head south as quickly as possible. My friend Vos is waiting for us at the southwestern gate. Let’s not waste anymore time!” The harekryn looked to the south, the streets still packed with panicking halflings. “Which way do you suggest we go to avoid the crowds?” He added.

“The crowds are everywhere but passing through the lacemaker’s street then...” Lodar began to say before he was cut off by his nephew.

“I know a good way to avoid the crowds. You look like you can handle a few jumps.” Said Korlak, smiling at the harekryn. “Follow me. It’ll be much quicker if we run along the rooftops!”

Lodar scowled and thought to stop his nephew as he had warned him that running along the roofs was unruly and dangerous. He chose to ignore this thought, however, accepting that Korlak would now have to make his own decisions and he could no longer council him. Instead, he simply said. “Farewell, Korlak. Do not forget the house from which you hail.”

Korlak answered but he was already making his way through the crowd to cross the street, his voice lost in the ruckus caused by the fleeing halflings.

As he passed through the crowd, a frantic halfling grabbed Korlak’s shoulder and said: “Follow the white bull!”

Confused, Korlak stared at the grey-haired man and pulled his shoulder away, turning back to Sefaloy. He continued making his way across the busy street, paying the crazed old man’s words no heed.

Lodar watched his nephew leave and, before turning back to head into the courtyard, whispered. “May Foer’s blessing be upon you.”

Foer was the major go worshipped by halflings, both in Mederlas and the Terkin Mountains.

Once they had gotten through the unruly crowd, Korlak led Sefaloy into a side street and jumped onto the back of a wagon, which was full of large krater vases.

The vases had been painted in black and light blue and were ready to be brought out to the market. Though, there would soon be no one left to take them there, thought Korlak. Nor would there be a market in which to sell them.

Knocking over a few vases and breaking them, Korlak made his way to the front of the wagon, where he jumped up onto a large statue of a bullkryn, or minotaur.

He first climbed onto the shoulder then grabbed the horns to hoist himself up on the head. From there, the halfling reached up at the edge of the orange roof above and climbed onto it, using one of the horns to push with his feet as he hoisted himself up, onto the roof.

Sefaloy followed with ease. Harekryn were far more agile than halflings and had powerful legs, allowing him to jump up onto the roof without using the horns.

As Sefaloy got back on his feet, he looked up to see a small flying squirrel jump onto Korlak’s foot and climb up his leg to enter a small pouch near his belt. The creature then turned, poking its head out to stare at him, while Korlak began scratching its head lightly with one finger.

“So, you really do have the gift?” Said Sefaloy, smiling.

“Of course.” Answered Korlak, confused. “Did you not believe my uncle?”

Sefaloy bent his head to the side and rotated his hand to show he was a bit hesitant. “Well, I do not know him personally” Said the harekryn. “And these are desperate times. I thought it possible for him to have some ulterior motive.”

“I see.” Answered Korlak, titling his head and narrowing his eyes as he looked at Sefaloy. “But true members of House Fuinn never lie. Even simple, white lies can slowly tear away at the purity of your heart. Lying is the easy way out, and we are taught not to trust the easy solutions.”

“That seems wise.” Answered Sefaloy, somewhat mockingly, as he believed the statement to be absurd. “I myself try to live an honest life, but I do believe white lies are necessary sometimes. For many reasons.” Said Sefaloy “Now, which way shall me go? We can debate the usefulness of lies another time.”

Korlak was a bit bothered by the harekryn’s response, but he had given the idea of white lies some thought in the past and realized there may be some acceptable uses for them. He had been raised in the way of his people, embracing the customs and values of House Fuinn, but was aware he had a tendency to think in black and white.

Korlak motioned along to the south with his head and the two companions began running along the rooftops, following the long rows of houses, which were built in a terrace style, and crossing over streets and alleys on the small buttress bridges that passed above them.

It was said that Omkra had been built with the help of elven builders when they first began venturing out of the forest.

They had implemented many of their traditional designs, adding many small colonnades and helping the halflings carve decorative designs into the white stone they used to build their walls. This had also led to the building of many buttress bridges that connected different buildings to allow the citizens of Omkra to travel through the city without using the streets, making them less busy and more ideal for wagons, wagons, and carriages.

Korlak, of course, did not use the buttress bridges as they were intended, but simply ran along their orange roofs, passing onto the roof of the adjacent building.

There were also several large, round buildings in Omkra. These were typically ornate buildings with a colonnade along their edges on the street below and some sort of open space, like a park or a square in front of them. Their rounded roofs were ideal for Korlak and Sefaloy as they switched from travelling west to moving back onto a row of roofs that went south and vice-versa.

As Korlak ran, he noticed large flakes of snow had slowly begun falling over Omkra. This was the first snow of the year, proving that winter had truly arrived.

Before long, the snowfall intensified and the sky above the town was filled with large white flakes that floated on the wind as they slowly fell onto the roofs and the crowds, who were too focused on escaping to enjoy the spectacular sight. Korlak did notice it, however, and even stopped to enjoy it.

The young halfling had been crossing a large bridge that spanned the river Denur, which cut through the western side of Omkra, when he halted.

Several boats were travelling up the river, bringing provisions that were to be loaded onto wagons in the north of the city or transporting elderly halflings to avoid the streets.

The calm and serene scene of small boats, slowly making their way along the river, was quite the contrast with the chaotic streets full of panicked halflings.

A feeling of great sadness filled the halfling’s heart as he looked around at the magnificent city of white walls and orange roofs, built in a valley surrounded by large mountains, the peaks of which had already been covered in snow for a few months.

From this bridge, Korlak could see lake Omkra, which bordered the southern edge of the city, the two southern gates being on either side of it. He could also see the different areas of town where nobles were housed, their roofs standing out as they were in much better condition and had more vibrant colours.

“Shall we?” Said Sefaloy in a kind voice as he gestured to the other side of the bridge, having understood the halfling was experiencing an emotional moment.

Caught in a daydream, Korlak was a bit embarrassed as he realized the harekryn had been waiting for him to continue.

“I’m sorry. I just...” Said Korlak, stopping as he was unsure what to say.

“I understand.” Said Sefaloy.” This is quite the sight, and it must be hard knowing you may never return. But you’ll have more of a chance of returning if we hurry south, before the Arshaks get here.”

As Sefaloy spoke, Korlak took a bit more time to examine the harekryn. He had been so overwhelmed back at Lodar’s house that he hadn’t taken the time to really do so.

Sefaloy’s fur followed a harlequin pattern of black and golden brown. His face was split in two with a large black spot on the left in a shape that reminded Korlak of a cashew. The top portion of the large shape was rounded and covered the majority of his forehead, his eye being near the centre of the oval shape. The bottom thinned out and was curved, ending in a small point on his neck.

On his right cheek, within the golden-brown half of his face, the harekryn had a much smaller black spot which also had a strange, round shape.

The harekryn’s striking, light blue eyes were accentuated by the colour of the fur surrounding them, especially the left one, which contrasted with the black around it.

He wore dark, burgundy leather armour with black pants and didn’t wear any shoes. His armour was simply made up of a chest piece, pauldrons and vambraces, leaving his legs unprotected. He wore a brown belt with a buckle that had a design of a mountain landscape on it. He didn’t wear a shirt under his armour, likely because his fur was usually enough to keep him warm.

At his side was a large scabbard from which protruded an ornate, golden sword handle with a black ribbon attached to it. Judging by the shape of the scabbard, Korlak deduced that the weapon was a kind of fancy falchion, its shape resembling a dao sword.

It was clear to Korlak that Sefaloy took good care of his armour, most likely using different oils to keep protect the leather. It had a nice, subtle shine to it and the edges of many cuts within it had clearly been buffed. It was also clear by the number of cuts on it that Sefaloy, or at least the armour he was wearing, had been in many battles.

As the harekryn finished speaking, he began running to the other side of the roof, passing from the roof of the bridge to the roof of the next building in an impressive leap to cut the corner.

Korlak followed, catching up as Sefaloy slowed to allow him to take the lead.

The halfling often travelled on the roofs. Though, Lodar disapproved, it was a remarkably effective way of getting across the city and avoiding crowds. He had heard that the felikryn often travelled on rooftops as they raided cities, avoiding any resistance from the guards within them and travelling swiftly to their objectives, terrorizing the people down below.

As the two companions neared the southern gate, the streets were less and less busy. The people had been cleared out of this part and as they crossed the last few sections, they didn’t see a soul in the streets.

Once again, Korlak felt sadness tug at his heartstrings as he realized this is what the once lively Omkra would soon be. A ghost town.

As they approached the front gate, Korlak quickly entered a small building which had a large, open window facing the street with a long counter at halfling height. This was the building in which the Tilmir was carried out at this gate, but it had been deserted.

Korlak decided to hop over the wooden counter and enter the dark room. He walked past stacks of orange capes, then green, red and decided a dark yellow would be the appropriate colour as he was going on a diplomatic mission.

He took off his light blue cape and replaced it with the yellow one, leaving the blue one on the counter as he returned toward the street.

When Korlak looked to see Sefaloy, however, he did not find him. He quickly turned back to see the harekryn had also entered the building and was putting on a black cape. Korlak scowled at him.

Noticing the scowl, Sefaloy’s head turned sideways, his long ears perking up. “I doubt anyone will be needing these. They’re far too small for felikryn.” He smiled but the grin faded as he noticed Korlak wasn’t amused.

“It’s not the fact that you’re taking a cape that bothers me.” Said Korlak, trying to speak in a kind tone. “It’s just that it’s not the right colour.”

“The right colour? I thought black suitd me.” Retorted the harekryn, smiling once again. “Yours does match your eyes!” He added, followed by a chuckle.

“It’s tradition to switch from the light blue garments we wear within the city to a colour corresponding to our purpose for leaving it.” Explained Korlak. “I chose yellow because my task is a diplomatic mission. You’re simply passing through, so orange would be appropriate.”

“And what does the black cape represent?” Asked Sefaloy.

“It is worn when we travel due to death. Usually to a funeral.” Answered the halfling.

“Then it’s toward death that I go.” Answered Sefaloy, grinning once again. “Hopefully, that of my enemies.” He then leaped back over the counter and walked through the open gates.

Korlak was displeased with the harekyn’s lack of respect and coy attitude but realized his traditions should not apply to foreigners and there was no reason he should care about the harekryn’s choice. Even the locals weren’t taking the time to change their clothes this day. He followed Sefaloy out of the city, glancing back one last time as he passed through the gates.

“The orange wouldn’t have matched your armour anyways.” Said Korlak in hopes of showing any tension from the exchange had dissipated.

Sefaloy laughed, looking back at the halfling with a smile before gesturing forward with his head as he said: “Let’s go find Vos.”

Vos Irodim was waiting just outside the southwestern gate of Omkra, his eyes scanning the road to the west for any felikryn. He was also constantly lifting his thin muzzle and sniffing the air, his sense of smell being highly developed.

In his right hand, he held a small, green gemstone which he was tossing up in the air and catching in a calm, repetitive manner. He was leaning against a tree, his right shoulder pressed against it and his right leg crossed over the left one.

As soon as Korlak saw the foxkryn, he recognized the armour he was wearing to be that of a warrior of Zamor, a large city of halflings and kryn to the north. It was said their forces had been decimated in an attempt to hold back the oncoming Arshak forces and their city had been razed to the ground a few weeks prior.

The Zamorian armour was very similar to that of the Omkrians, but they wore light-grey pants, a white shirt and dark-green capes. Although, Vos’ cape was closer to a light green, for the colour had faded over time and his white shirt was stained and tattered.

On the foxkryn’s back was a large crossbow and a harp. He also had several bags of provisions both on his back and at his feet. On his back was a small heater shield which was painted grey with a white chevron and a black diamond shape atop it, the coat of arms of Zamor.

Korlak too had a similarly shaped shield with the coat of arms of Omkra upon it. The background was painted light blue, while upon it were light brown mountains and small buildings with a yellow semi-circle behind them, representing the rising sun. He often kept it on his back, however, feeling that a shield limited his movement as he used Marten’s Fang.

“Vos, this is Korlak. He chooses the pronouns he and him.” Said Sefaloy hurriedly. “I’ve been told he was an excellent fighter with that polearm of his and he has the Gift of Nirdalune. But there’ll be time introductions later. I’ve barely met him myself. For now, we need to head south before the Arshaks arrive.”

Vos began to nod but his head quickly jerked to the side, his ears perking up and his muzzle lifting up gently to sniff the air. “Speak of the devil!” He said, his tone conveying his deep hatred for the Arshaks.

Korlak, who had been calmly petting Sedri’s head, quickly looked to the mountains to see what the foxkryn had spotted.

Far off on the road, passing through a mountain pass, which led to the valley of Omkra, turquoise banners could be seen.

The colour resembled the light blue worn by the people of Omkra, but, seeing that it had a green hue, Korlak knew it to be that of the Arshak Empire. The felikryn army had arrived.

“Run!” Said Sefaloy as he picked up the bags at Vos’ feet and began running east, toward a small forest on the edge of lake Omkra.

The three companions quickly made their way across the small field and entered the forest, not bothering to look back and check if they had been spotted.

*****

Later that day, Korlak, Vos and Sefaloy made camp far to the south, in a mountain pass that overlooked the great forest. Though they could see it, there were still a few short mountains between them and its borders.

Confident that they had not been followed, they made a fire and Vos began preparing a spit over the fire on which he skewered a few quails.

Sedri came out of his pouch and began eating some of the nuts Korlak had packed for him before going around the area to scavenge for food. The squirrel leaped from tree to tree, causing the beautifully coloured leaves to fall from the branches and add to the large piles which had formed around the trunks.

Korlak loved the beautiful hues of yellow, orange and red which the leaves took on as winter approached but wondered why this did not occur in Nilduras. Perhaps the great forest was under the protection of the elven gods and even its leaves were beyond the grasp of the dark gods.

Seeing that everyone was settling in, waiting impatiently for the food, Korlak decided it was a good time to strike up a conversation with his two companions.

“So, is true that you’ve been in the forest of Nilduras?” He asked, intrigued.

“Of course. Many times.” Answered Sefaloy. “It’s a wonderful place. Vos has never been, though. He decided to join me to escape these curse mountains.”

Korlak nodded. “I heard what happened to the Zamorian forces. I wish Omkra had sent troops to help. I was told your people fought valiantly.”

“Your lords were right not to send you. It was more of a slaughter than anything. Words of our bravery only serve to give the rest of the cities hope. There is none against such ruthless and mighty opponents. They are simply too many and their brutal, yet controlled combat style is unrivaled.” Answered Vos in a defeated tone, a mix of anger and sadness in his eyes.

“I would argue that that is untrue. I know of a people whose fighting style rivals theirs. The elves use ancient combat techniques and fight in a disciplined way, using their natural agility and combat skills to their advantage. They may not jump as high as the felikryn but they can dance around them, cutting them apart with speed and precision.” Explained Sefaloy, encouraged by the wonder in Korlak’s eyes as the fire was reflected upon them.

“Perhaps.” Said Vos. “But they are not here to do so. And soon it is them we will have to fear.”

“Bah.” Answered Sefaloy. “The elves aren’t so bad. You Terkinians spend your whole lives in these mountains, listening to the old legends counted by half mad mossbacks. Sure, some elven kingdoms have been cruel towards outsiders on occasion long ago, but they are not all the same and most of them are very wise and reasonable.”

Vos and Korlak both leaned forward slightly, captivated by the harekryn’s explanation.

“You just have to know your way around in order to avoid the unfriendly kingdoms and the regions forbidden to outsiders. Otherwise, they’re usually happy to see someone from a different part of the world. Their reputation has sacred away most outsiders for quite sometime. They may not admit it, but I think they get lonely up there, in their trees. Just as you surely wonder about them, they too wonder about the peoples who inhabit these mountains. They often ask me about the Terkinians.”

“So, we can pass freely?” Asked Vos in a skeptical tone.

“Not exactly.” Answered Sefaloy. “We will take a path where some elves may stop us and ask us to explain where we are going.” The harekryn shrugged as he said: “Your patrols would surely ask the same of strangers.” Sefaloy waited to see if the two others had a response to that before continuing.

“If they approve of my answer, they usually let me go on my way, sending a few scouts to ensure I leave their territory. And if they don’t trust me, they simply send a small escort with me. I’ve been held up and brought to their leaders a few times but they mainly want to ensure no one is causing trouble in their forest. It’s all a matter of avoiding the dangerous regions. And, though there are many, I know the Northern Region well”

Korlak was fascinated to hear this side of elven culture after having heard so many tales of cruelty and violence. The stories passed on in Omkra were truly just legends. They may have been based loosely on real event but, if Sefaloy was to be trusted, they were in no way accurate when it came to portraying the majority of elves.

“And are you originally from the forest?” Asked Korlak. “You called us Terkinians. So, are you not from the Terkin Mountains?”

“No.” Answered Sefaloy. “Though, I had called Zamor home for the past decade, I am not from Terkin or the forest of Nilduras. I was born in the Grasslands of Nilshael, a vast expanse of plains, south of the Noriondir mountains, in a region known as Shaelryn. It is said to be a beautiful region, which the elves named forest of flowers, due to the incredible variety and number of colourful flowers which grow within the tall grass. In this age, however, it is plagued by war, though it retains its beauty in times of peace.”

“I only have a feint memory of it.” He continued, slightly shaking his head as he spoke. “When I was but a few years old, my family travelled north, seeking refuge from a great war between the kingdoms of Naethryn. The retreating army had been instructed to burn our crops and my people were facing starvation and had no choice but to leave the plains, along with most of my kin. I was but a child, but I remember crossing the Noriondir Mountains and the Prairies of Syleta. We then lived amongst the elves of the Southern Region for a few years, before continuing north, but struggling to find a place within the world of elves. Thus, they made their way to the Terkin Mountains, creating a new life for our family. Despite the many opportunities we found in the region, however, I feel as though my parents never found a place in which they truly felt they belonged.”

Sefaloy paused, staring into the fire. Noticing his gaze, Vos was reminded to spin the spit in order to roast a different side of the quails.

Sefaloy turned back to face his companions and continued. “I myself never found anywhere I truly belonged either. I was happy creating a life in Zamor with Eilara, but now Zamor has fallen and I fear I may have lost my love as well.”

“And do you have any idea where she is?” Asked Korlak, curious as to what his part of the bargain would entail.

“We were meant to meet in Zamor, but it was attacked by the felikryn. She would have likely made her way south, but I have no idea where she might have gone. Omkra was my only lead, and she wasn’t there either.” Answered Sefaloy, frustration showing in his tone.

“So, what do you suggest we do? Should we head east and check the dwarven strongholds?” Asked Korlak.

“No.” Answered Sefaloy. “I doubt she would have gone to them for help. The felikryn will be there before long. But she could be anywhere, really. So we won’t bother searching for her ourselves.” Korlak narrowed his eyes slightly, wondering what Sefaloy meant.

“Our destination is Idalkinmiro.” Continued Sefaloy. “It’s a great tree city of the gnomes.”

“There are gnomes in Nilduras?” Asked Korlak, who had only ever heard of gnomes living in large caves within the mountains.

“Yes.” Answered Sefaloy. “Most of the gnomes in Nilduras live in the east but there are a few in the north and Idalkinmiro is one of their biggest settlements. We will be going there in hopes of finding a wizard capable of telling us where she is.”

Korlak was confused as he had never heard of such magic. He was only familiar with simple forms of druidism, which was often used for healing or, in his case, communicating with animals. To him, wizards were imaginary characters invented to embellish otherwise dull stories.

“Do you truly think it to be possible?” Asked Korlak, skeptical about the situation. “Are we not better off searching the area?”

“I know it to be possible. I have seen it done when my gnomish friend, Sigi went missing a few years ago.” Answered Sefaloy. “He had ventured into the central region of the forest and had gotten into trouble with some of the local elves. A wizard located him and we were able to go bargain for his release.” Korlak simply nodded.

“That’s who we’re going to see now, actually.” Added Sefaloy. “Sigi can take us to a gnomish seer.”

“The quails look ready.” Said Vos with great excitement.

“Then let’s eat.” Said Sefaloy. “I hope you can trust my decision, Korlak. We can find my Eilara then I’ll guide you south to the Skarians.”

“If you truly believe it will work, I’m with you.” Answered Korlak.

The three companions ate the quails along with a few vegetables in silence then spent some time counting old stories of their adventures. Sedri soon returned to lay in his warm pouch. He telepathically told Korlak that he had spotted a few spiders, of which he was terribly afraid.

Later, Vos brought out his harp and began playing a soft song. Korlak then reached into a small, dark-blue bag on his belt to pull out a small, wooden instrument called an ocarina, which was loved by many of the halfling peoples of Simanorion. He joined Vos in a peaceful song, making sure not to play it too loud for fear of attracting some sort of danger. However, they were most likely all alone on the mountain pass.

They played their soft music, looking out at the canopy of Nilduras, which resembled a large ocean as the wind passed through the leaves in waves.

Korlak couldn’t help but perceive the song as a sad one, despite it being a song of peace and serenity. He was reminded that his perception of music was often impacted by his emotions. A thought which comforted him as it reminded him of many wonderful moments of joy in his life.

Korlak also found it very amazing that the same song could convey a completely different emotion for different people and their experience was each time unique and personal as they listened to or played music.

After a few songs, the group doused the flames and retreated into a little makeshift shelter Sefaloy and Korlak had prepared with branches. They brought a few stones from the fire and wrapped them in cloth to keep nearby and provide a bit of heat for the first few hours of the night.

On the way to the shelter, Korlak looked out at the forest, then up at the beautiful night sky, filled with stars. He wondered where life would be taking him. At that moment he thought of it as the great river of time pushing him violently forward through rapids, and he hoped the current would slow down so he could catch a breath and choose his own path.