Four days had gone by since the kramstuk rebellion started. Grahol was still riding on his sohol, not knowing what happened in Nello. He considered sleeping in the forest because there was already dark, but he changed his mind. He wanted to arrive at the border as soon as possible. The sohols could see quite good in the dark anyway.

As the sohol ran as fast as it could, Grahol saw a few lights a few kilometers ahead. He looked at his map. Unfortunately for him, it was a kramstuk village. He absolutely didn’t want to stay in a kramstuk town for the night. They would cut my throat as soon as I closed my eyes.

He was only about ten kilometers from the border of Cha’rion, where the fnar army waited for his orders. He couldn’t deny that he was excited. The last major conflict involving the Fnar Empire was the conquest of the Kramstuk Kingdom 50 years ago, and Grahol was only a little child then. The war against Cha’rion would’ve been his first war as a general.

As he was thinking about this, he became worried. The kramstuks were a more significant threat than Cha’rion. He was still angry because of the stupidity of emperor Veer. The Union of Three Kingdoms made a promise a few months after the Kramstuk Kingdom was no more that they’d protect any nation against the fnar aggression. Grahol had no idea if they’ll keep their promise after five decades.

Grahol screamed as an arrow hit him in his left shoulder. He fell from his sohol. As he looked around lying on the ground, he noticed kramstuks with bows and swords walking between the woods, looking at him.

He quickly jumped to his feet, drawing out his sword. He counted four kramstuks. Those fucking saboteurs again, he thought.

The arches tried to shoot him again, but Grahol ran behind a tree on the other side of the road, avoiding the kramstuk’s arrow. As he was hiding behind that tree, he heard a few kramstuks running towards him.

When he heard that the rebels were right behind him, he jumped out from his cover, holding his sword in a defensive stance. Three kramstuks were in front of him. He immediately swung his sword towards the one that was the closest to him.

The kramstuk blocked his attack, then kicked the general in the stomach. Grahol took a few steps back, then charged at the rebels. The three kramstuks overpowered him. They weren’t better fighters than Grahol, but they were larger and more powerful, and most importantly, Grahol was alone, fighting against three rebels, with one more hiding in the forest.

A kramstuk swung towards the general. Grahol immediately dropped to his knees, avoiding the attack. The kramstuk could only hit a tree. Grahol capitalized on the opportunity and stabbed his sword through the stomach of the kramstuk. The soldier roared as he fell to the ground, dying only a few seconds later.

“No!” a kramstuk shouted, then angrily charged towards the fnar. Grahol dodged the attack, then blocked the attack of the other kramstuk.

Grahol suddenly noticed the kramstuk archer standing about fifty meters ahead, aiming at him. The arches shot his arrow. The general quickly jumped to the left. The arrow hit one of the kramstuks in the chest. Grahol wanted to make sure he died, so he swung at him, decapitating the kramstuk.

He charged at the last kramstuk fighter, consistently swinging at him, trying to break through his protection. He also kept an eye on the archer, who was suddenly hesitant to shoot, scared to kill another kramstuk.

As he was watching the archer, the kramstuk warrior kicked him in the face. The fnar fell to the ground, his sword fell out of his hands.

The kramstuk raised his sword to kill the fnar general, but Grahol’s sohol attacked him, biting the kramstuk’s head off. Grahol was never so proud of an animal.

He jumped back on the sohol’s back. The sohol, in just a few seconds, ran towards the fnar archer, who didn’t even have a chance to shoot with his arrow. The sohol threw him into a tree with its mouth.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

Grahol jumped to the ground, then approached the injured archer. It looked like he had at least a few broken bones. The general crouched down to talk with him.

“Who is your leader, you fucking saboteur?” Grahol asked him, grabbing the rebel’s neck. “Where is he hiding?”

“I’m not a saboteur! I’m a member of the kramstuk rebellion, just like every brave kramstuk! The rebellion has started! You and the whole fucking Fnar Empire will fall, general!” the archer said to Grahol. The general finally cut the kramstuk’s throat, ending his suffering.

Grahol walked back to the sohol. He was thinking about what the archer said. If he was telling the truth, and the kramstuk rebellion really started, then it would be a mistake to start the invasion against Cha’rion. He wanted to be at the border as soon as he could, so he could hear the news about the kramstuks.

Commander Alhen was sitting in his prison cell in Nello, carefully inspecting all corners of the room. It was around midnight, but he slept a few hours during the day. He was bored, sitting in the cell for four days.

He had enough time to think through the poor choices he had made, which caused a rebellion in Nello. He wanted to show those kramstuks who ruled this empire, but he failed. Since he was a child, his parents always told him to hate the kramstuks, because they killed his grandfather, who was a fnar soldier.

Alhen wanted to become a general and was close to reaching his goal. He learned a lot of things from general Grahol, who was probably the best general in the Fnar Empire, or even on Yagrott.

He heard walking from the corridors. General Nymar Damford was there to check on the prisoners. Alhen knew who he was. The older fnar soldiers told a lot of things about him. Nymar was the last general of the kramstuk army, the other ones were imprisoned and executed.

Nymar wasn’t killed, because he betrayed his own people, and Alhen didn’t respect him for that. These fucking kramstuks would betray their people just to save their own lives. They’re pathetic.

“Hey, general,” he shouted to the general.

“Silence, prisoner!” Nymar walked to Alhen’s cell. His fur was starting to gray.

“You are general Damford, am I right?” the fnar stood up and walked closer to the old kramstuk. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, general!”

“What do you want?” Nymar asked the smiling fnar.

“Freedom. You’re fighting for freedom too, so we have the same goal, right? Could you… you know, let me out?”

“Keep dreaming, idiot,” Nymar laughed.

“Why? You helped us during the war too. I think you’re used to betraying your people to help the Empire, am I right, general?”

Nymar stopped laughing. The fact that he betrayed the kramstuks 50 years ago was a secret that only he and a few fnar knew, at least he thought, but it seemed like it was common knowledge among the fnar soldiers. He hasn’t told anyone, not even his son.

“Look,” continued Alhen, “it wouldn’t be great for your image if… somebody found out. You would be considered a traitor.”

“You fucking bastard,” Nymar grabbed the fnar’s neck through the cells.

“Hey, I’m good at keeping secrets! You just need to let me escape, and nobody will find out. Deal?”

“You know I can kill you right here,” Nymar responded angrily.

“Only if you want to explain to your rebel friends why you killed your highest ranking prisoner.”

“For fuck’s sake!” Nymar searched for a key in his pockets and found one. He opened Alhen’s cell. The fnar had a wide smile on his face.

“Thank you, general, you’re very kind.”

“You’ll be killed in a battle anyway,” said the general. “Now get out!”

Nymar just watched as the fnar carefully left the cells, watching for kramstuk guards. The general was angry. Alhen was right, he betrayed his own people again. How will he explain it to Ghared when he asks what happened to the prisoner?

“I’m an idiot, I’m an idiot,” the general kept repeating. He wanted to drink some good wine to forget what happened. Fucking fnars.

Alhen managed to avoid any kramstuk soldiers guarding the prison cells. He was still smiling when he left the building. These kramstuks are stupid.

Luckily, nobody saw him in the dark. He walked around on the streets with a hood on his head, so nobody could recognize him, in case some kramstuk would be on the streets this late at night.

After a few minutes, he had found a stable with a few sohols in it. He stole one, jumping on its back. He kicked the lizard, and it started running towards the forest. He had escaped and hurried to the capital to report to emperor Veer.