Marius peeled his sweaty face from the pillow, and felt tears stream into his eyes as the morning light burst in through the window. The shrill chorus of the Vakringuardian song birds pushed Marius's hazy mind into a bad mood. He rolled from his bed, and ripped off the covers. Leaving them behind, he stumbled across his room to a small wash basin, and began pumping fresh water via a pump built into his wall. Water gushed into the basin, filling it to the brim. Once, full, Marius doused his whole head, feeling the icy chill smash into his sore head, and dislodge some of the sludginess from the celebrations the night before.

Now, in an almost functioning state, Marius hunted around his messy room for his boots and tunic. Pulling them on, he reached for his swords which leaned against his bed, oiled and ready for use. He strapped his steel long sword to his side, and Nurlin's black blade to his back. Ready to start the day, he headed out of his room and down the corridor outside.

Marius could hear Olaf's feet on the stairs before he entered the great hall. The steady thump of his boots seemed weighted, and Marius smiled to himself, thinking about how bad Olaf's hangover would be in comparison to his own. He entered the hall, and made his way down the stairs. Feeling a thump as each of his own feet landed on each step, Olaf reached the landing before him, fully dressed in his overcoat, pauldron, and glistening blade upon his back.

Marius frowned at the slight change in routine. Olaf looked up at Marius, and smiled at the evident hangover.

"Good morning, Marius. How are you holding up?"

Marius managed to grumble a response, not trusting himself with fully formed words yet. Olaf's smile widened, and in a slightly louder voice which caused Marius to cringe, said, "I was thinking of grabbing some supplies today, and wondered if you would join me? I’m only heading to a small town, but I was thinking it might be a good chance for you to meet the locals. After all, you have been cooped up in here with me for the past few weeks."

Marius's hangover was instantly forgotten as the thought of Vakringuardian barbarians came to mind. Although Olaf had stamped out a lot of Marius's Alturine bias towards the neighbouring nation, he had still been brought up to fear the Vakringuardian raiders.

Marius's smile was all Olaf needed as confirmation.

"Good! Right now lad, you'll need something a bit warmer than your tunic if we're going to be walking the Vakringuardian planes. I found this coat in one of the old parts of the castle, and thought it might fit you."

Marius took the coat and tried it on. The sleeves rolled past his hands and the tails dragged on the floor, but it was very warm. Olaf frowned at the oversized coat, and placed a hand on Marius's shoulder. Instantly, the coat shrank into shape, and Marius felt it fit perfectly around him. Olaf smiled down at his handy work, and before Marius could thank him he was headed down the stone steps of the landing, and across the great hall towards the front doors. He looked over his shoulder at Marius, who still stood on the landing in amazement of yet another gift.

"Are you coming, lad?"

Marius hurried after Olaf, buckling his black blade to his back and followed his teacher out into the Vakringuardian Kingdoms. During his time in Olaf's castle, Marius had never thought about the outside landscape that surrounded him. Although he walked down the open corridor that displayed the Mother-locke River, he had always looked at it as a painting, not a view. Now Marius was following Olaf down a winding path that led from the castle. The path was on a high ridge, and acted as a defence for the castle, allowing only single file up and down.

Olaf's castle was situated on one of the last mountains of the northern border. It had once been a capital for a kingdom, and had protected its people against war and famine. Now, it acted as Olaf's headquarters, and either way, was a massive structure. Marius looked back at it now and marvelled at its immense size. It was the biggest thing he had ever seen – even the ruin at Stonehill, which shared the same past as Olaf's castle, was not as big.

The arena was the first thing that could be noticed. It wrapped around the mountain with a large domed roof, and Marius could make out the west wing where he slept, and saw the open corridor with its pillars which now looked like small matchsticks. Below that, the trophy hallway that led to the arena seemed small, and Marius could hardly believe that it was the same building.

He turned back to the path, and took in the foreign surroundings. The wild plains of the Vakringuardian kingdoms spread out before him, and he could see the small town they were headed for, nestled on the northern banks of the fork in the Mother-locke River, puffing away peacefully. Large herds of giant furry cattle wandered the plains, and as Marius peered closer, he could see armoured men on horseback steering them north.

Olaf looked out at them, then smiled back at Marius. "They are rounding up their herds for market, and are heading north to Vakringuard High Hall, the seat of the High King and capital of the Vakringuardian Kingdoms."

Olaf continued to walk down the narrow ridge-way and indicated to the small town below. He cleared his voice, and Marius's attention moved to the old man as he began to explain the lay of the land.

"We are currently in the kingdom of Trystem, ruled by the Jarl of Trystem, who lives in the town we are headed. If you follow Alturine’s northern border mountains to the west, you will find the kingdom of Rutchnar, surrounded by a circle of mountains which has the capital city of Reain. To the north-west above Rutchnar, lies Snowhiem, originally a Dwarfish kingdom, but bought by human merchants, hence the Dwarven name; its capital city is Noflem. To the north-east, further than Trystem and east of Vakringuard High Hall, lies the Eldar kingdom of Lornea, which I had previously thought was unoccupied. Further north-east is the abandoned Dwarven kingdom of Nordlhiem, and to the east of that, its sister kingdom Ironhiem, both of which are ruled by Doflhiem, which is to the south of us right now. To the east of Trystem and Lornea lies Runton, and its sister kingdom Laykton, each of which is governed by a separate brother of the same line."

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

Marius looked around him as he walked, trying to lay out a mental map with all of the information he had been given. Olaf looked back at Marius, and saw his confused face.

"What’s the matter, lad?"

Marius looked back at Olaf. "It’s nothing, I’m just trying to map it all out in my head."

Olaf nodded. "Well, we can grab a map from Trystem today if that helps you."

Marius agreed to this, and allowed his mind map to slip away, promising himself that it would be easier to see it on paper. They drew closer towards the town, and Marius saw a large wooden bridge that spanned over the Mother-locke. A stone hut leant against the bridge, and two men stood outside, guarding the way across.

These men were dressed in black, winged helmets, black painted chain-mail, and had red tunics underneath. They wielded spears, and round wooden shields, also decorated red and black. The shields themselves had a simple design painted across the face: three thick, black lines that met up in the middle to symbolize, Marius guessed, the split in the Mother-locke River.

Olaf walked past the guards without looking at them, and Marius followed, staring as they stared back. When they were out of earshot, Olaf slowed down to walk beside Marius.

He looked down and said, "They were Trystem guards, dressed in the red and black of the Vakringuardian kingdoms, but had the three lined seal of their own independent kingdom. They were just the river guard – the town guard are a lot more heavily armed and look for trouble, so try to leave your Alturine mentality behind, or you may get into strife."

Marius was slightly insulted by this comment, but let it slide as they the stepped onto the northern bank of the Mother-locke, looking up at Trystem. From the ridge, Trystem had seemed to be small and on flat ground, but from the bank, Marius looked up at a grassy slope, with sharp wooden poles for extra fortification. The entrance was carved into this slope, and had large wooden gates fitted into a stone gateway. A gravel path led through this gate and into town. Guards stood around the entrance with swords and round shields, inspecting the people who came into the town, with an overzealous amount of force.

Olaf started towards the gates with Marius by his side. Who began to be very aware of his two swords, and felt that he should go to some effort of concealing them. Before he had attempted to hide the long sword at his side, he felt the crunch of gravel beneath his feet, and as Marius looked up, he saw the gates of Trystem now towering above him. The guards looked at him suspiciously, but stood back to allow Olaf and himself passage into the town unhindered.

Marius had expected mud and squalor but, Trystem seemed to rival Stonehill in appearance. Inside the wall, stone houses littered the frozen, packed earthen streets. Certain roads were delegated to carts, and others were left for people to walk, unhindered by heavy traffic. The town seemed well thought out, and the degree of craftsmanship that went into the stone and wooden buildings was magnificent. Great wooden halls stood, inlaid with gilt carvings, at the centre of the town. A small wall separated these halls from what seemed to be the merchant’s quarters, both large and small. Finally, nearest to the wall, the peasants’ dwellings, complete with lean-to sheds and animal shelters huddled closely to the great slope, afraid of the order they had been put into. However, for all its shining brilliance, Marius felt an overwhelming amount of dread as he and Olaf walked into Trystem.

As he looked down the frosty, smoky streets, Marius was dismayed at the lack of people. The ones he could see were huddled in furs and looked mortally ill. They snivelled, coughed, and eyed Olaf and Marius with both curiosity and fear.

Taverns littered the streets, and seemed to echo out in the eerie silence with the sounds of harsh laughter and crude conversation. The tinging bang of a hammer rang through the streets, as Olaf led Marius deeper into the town. The smoky atmosphere cleared slightly, and Marius saw to his amazement, a Dwarf hammering away at his anvil. He had black hair flecked with grey, and braided within the strands of his beard and hair, golden wire shimmered in the sunlight, matching his breastplate, which glinted with every hammer fall.

He seemed to be crafting a sword, and was so bent in his work that he did not appear to notice that, peeking from their boarded windows, the Vakringuardian townspeople watched. Olaf went over to the Dwarf, and knocked on one of the stone pillars that held up the roof over the forge. The Dwarf paused a moment in his beating of steel and looked up.

The Dwarf's face split into a smile, and he immediately quenched the developing blade into a nearby trough of water. "Olaf? Is that you my old friend? What are you doing here among the cursed and the damned? It normally takes the end of days to get you mobile! And who is your companion here?"

Olaf smiled back, and shook the Dwarves hand. "Hello Durie, how are you? This is Marius, a student of mine."

Olaf winked back at Marius, who was still looking at Durie in amazement.

Durie looked from Olaf to Marius with a bemused, almost knowing look on his face. By now, a few more eyes peered out from their hide-holes, and Marius could hear, from out of the shadows, Olaf's name being muttered in awe. Durie looked around darkly at the whisperers, and indicated to a house built onto the forge. The three of them retreated, and found themselves inside a small wooden home.

A fire crackled in the centre sending a plume of smoke upwards, out from a hole in the eaves. The wooden furniture was carved into straight, angular shapes, and had strange runes and pictures upon them. Marius peered closely at the carvings, and tried to discern their meaning.

"Dwarves prefer straight edges and ordered shapes to curved scroll work. I carved all of this myself." Durie announced.

Marius looked up to see Durie gazing through the gloomy light at him. Olaf sat in the corner, attempting to light his pipe, now content to be away from the strange streets of Trystem.

"I am the first Dwarf you have seen, am I not?" Durie asked.

Marius nodded.

Durie flashed him a large grin, then with a sweeping arm said, "Well then, let me not give you a bad impression on my race. Please – sit, relax, talk with me a while. I know Olaf here is fond of talking."

Durie's eyes sparkled as he glanced over at Olaf, and Olaf's eyebrows rose as his face broke into a smile.