Chapter 1:

The trees swayed in the warm summer breeze and the rolling hills of wheat that lay to the right of the Hold were dancing with their tree brethren as two riders were seen in the distance and approaching fast towards the Hold. The guard on the ramparts found it odd that such a thing would occur. The Hold was not expecting any more visitors for a fortnight, and all of the party attendees had been accounted for.

As the two unknown horsemen approached the gate the guardsman was relieved to just see travelers and not soldiers or barbarians. One traveler was wearing what a brown traveling cloak, black riding boots, and a green tunic. The other rider was wearing a leather doublet with a black traveling cloak and brown riding boots. Both of the travelers seemed to be armed, but with elegant weapons, the kind you would only be able to find in a city or forged by a quartermaster. As they approached the gate they pulled on the reins of their horses slowing their speed, and arriving within inches of the moat that circled the Hold.

“State yer names, and yer business” bellowed the guardsman.

“We have come to have a few words with the King! I am Fen Fenson of Paladore, and this here is Magnus of the Maw” shouted Fen.

“Oh, you wanted the The King? Well the King is not expected to be back from the Frigid Isles until tomorrow!” barked the guardsman.

“Impossible,” muttered Fenson.

“Excuse me!” shouted the guardsmen, hearing the anger in the traveler’s voice.

“Sorry my dear sir. We have ridden a very long way and we were expecting to have a parlance with the King once we arrived” said Magnus.

“You’ll have to come back at a later date!” yelled the guardsmen as he left the battlement.

“But sir we have papers that signify we are to enter the keep and meet the King. I’m sure it wouldn’t be any trouble to let us spend a night, now would it?” said Magnus.

“Y-You have papers?” uttered the guard as he scurried back up the battlements.

“Aye, if you would only come down and inspect them I’m sure we can clear up this whole misunderstanding,” said Fen.

“Private please go check and see if these travelers are telling the truth” barked the guardsman.

A pasty, lanky guard walked over the wooden drawbridge, that had just been lowered, and approached the two horseman. As the guard got closer he could clearly see that the two riders had been traveling for a while. Their boots were caked with mud and their clothes were dusted with sand, and their faces were covered with cloth that allowed them to breathe while riding, but also shielded their faces from sand and the occasional bug that could disturb their faces.

“Please lad, can you walk faster? Me and my friend are weary of our travels and would like to rest” said Fen.

“Of course ser” said the lanky guardsman.

“Well then these papers should put everything in order then shall it?” said Magnus handing the papers down from his pitch black horse.

“Well yes. That does look like the King’s seal, please follow me.” said the guardsman looking at a blue and red Eagle Sigil of the King.

The riders leaped off their horses and began to lead their mounts across the drawbridge. As they made their way across they began to gaze upon the Hold in front of them. The Hold was made up of stacked marble bricks, but to the untrained eye it looked like one huge sheet of marble with no cracks or lines between each brick. At the top of the battlements was the Sigil of the Great King: a blue eagle with red around the eye, in flight with a black background.

Once across the drawbridge, it began to pull upwards and revealing the trench that lay beneath. Filled with about a foot of water and stakes at the end, it was clear that many souls had lost their lives falling into that moat.

As Fen and Magnus made it into the courtyard they began to see the grandness of the palace that was the capital of Orhan. In the middle of the courtyard was a golden statue of the Great King’s ancestor: Jacques Abbott. The man who came from the East and spread The Faith to the lands that now lay in the hands of the Great King. Jacques Abbot was long dead now, only the stuff of legends, but he lived on in that statute. Plated in solid gold, having a crown of jewels christen his brow, and having the famed blue eagle on his shoulder the statue impressed everyone that entered The Hold’s courtyard.

Passing the great statue the Steward of the palace, in his garb of gold and black robes, came and greeted the Fen and Magnus.

“Welcome weary travelers. I am told that you are here to see the King, no?” said the Steward in a nasally voice.

“Why yes we have dear Steward. But unfortunately we were told by your gate keeper that the King is not expected until tomorrow” grunted Magnus.

“Yes, yes, you were told correctly. The King will not be back from the the Frigid Isles until tomorrow. Until then let us regal you with what Orhan has to offer” said The Steward.

“Thank you ser” said the Fen.

“I’m sorry I’m not sure that we have been acquainted. What are your names?” questioned The Steward.

“I am Duke Fen Fenson of Paladore. I am here to speak with the King on matters that plague my homeland” bellowed Fen.

“And I am Earl Magnus of the Maw. Here to guard my Duke in his travels and take up sword and shield for him if need be” said Magnus.

“It is an honor to finally meet you Duke, and you, Earl. Please come in and I will show you to your rooms” said The Steward as he motioned his hands towards the palace.

Fen and Magnus followed the Steward and walked through two double doors as high as the gate they had just previously passed through. As tall as Oak Trees and as thick as the marble that protected the wall around the Palace, these doors could repel any enemy and it had time and time again through the ages. What stood at the end of the Great Hall was the giant gold and emerald throne of the King. Tapestries hung from the rafters with not only the Sigil of the King, but also of Jacque Abbott draped in gold and black, the prophet of The Faith.

The Steward whisked Fen and Magnus through a side door and led them up multiple flights of stairs. Curving and twisting their way staircase after staircase, they finally came upon  the common rooms where the noble guests resided. After walking to the end of the hallway passing all the rooms the party finally came to the destination.

“Here you are gentlemen, your rooms” said the Steward as he gestured his arm into the room.

The room was massive, with a huge living space in the center complete with a fireplace, multiple chairs and sofas, not to mention the ceilings were as high as the mountains of The Maw. On either side of the room there was a door, and beyond those doors were the bedrooms that belonged to the room’s inhabitants. Within those rooms was a canopy bed, a desk and storage.

“If you need anything extra please do not hesitate to ask. I will be leaving you now” said the Steward as he bowed out of the room.

Once the Steward had left, Fen and Magnus threw their traveling gear onto the ground and started to explore the room. Moving to and fro, both companions began to settle into their room. Placing the clothes that they would meet the King in on their beds and preparing the speeches that they were to give.

“Why is the King not back yet?” questioned Magnus.

“I don’t know, but hopefully he will be here by tomorrow so that we can get back to our home. We need to unite our people and drive out those rebels who think that they have claim to our lands” said Fen angrily.

“Aye, I agree. We need to get out of here as soon as possible. The more time we spend here the more blood is being spilled. I don’t know about you Duke but I can’t sit here in this pretty palace while our countrymen die for us” said Magnus.

“Aye” said Fen somberly.

The Duke and the Earl began to dress in their regal apparel. Fen shedding his riding gear and taking the pack that he brought and pulling out a dark blue embroidered tunic decorated with burgundy studs.

The Earl unfolded his emerald green shirt with matching pants. The apparel was decorated with studded jet black onyx. On his hip he wore his traditional dragonsteel sword with a dragon skull at the end of the hilt.

Having both dressed, the Duke and the Earl looked at each other.

“Well at least one of us doesn’t look like shit” said Magnus.

“Fuck off” grumbled Fen. “I’m not in the mood for jokes. The other noblemen are here and they are going want to talk battle strategy, theory and how the economy of Orhan is doing. Fuck these nobles! They don’t know what’s going on, they don’t know the death, destruction, and lives being lost back in Paladore. They’re a lot of fat pigs” yelled Fen with spit flying out of his mouth.

“It was just a joke Duke. There was no need to get red in the face about it” said Magnus slyly.

As soon as they left the room and shut the door they were greeted by a eunuch servant, with a bald head and brown robes..

“Welcome sers. I was instructed by my master to bring you to the dining room for the feast” said the eunuch in a monotone.

Fen nodded his head and began to follow the eunuch. Fen and Magnus began to gaze around the Palace for the first time. Passing walls colored dark tan, and moving from room to room with the ceiling vaulting as high as the doors they had came through earlier.

Walking into the great hall that the feast was to be held at was a stain glass ceiling creating the sigil of the King, and at high noon cast a shadow of the Golden Eagle on the floor of the dining room. A number of hogs sat on the main dias, with an assortment of legumes and fruits, wine flowed like rivers and in many different varieties. Some wines coming from all the way from Sultunatun, others from Pollack, and vineyards of the Fruitvale Valley. Music was being played on flutes, harps, and violins.

Fen was uneasy walking into the room. His face was flushed red and beads of sweat were rolling down his face.

“Duke, are you alright?” questioned Magnus.

“Aye, it’s just too damned hot in here.” replied Fen.

“Let’s get you something to drink, that will cheer you up.” said Magnus leading the Duke through the aisles of tables that saturated the floor.

The Earl began to look for a spot at the tables, but could not find one. All he could see were the pasty, fat faces of all the royalty that lived in the region of Orhan. Magnus as he was about to find a servant to get a seat spotted the Count and Countess of the City, Adric and Elise, and they were waving down the Duke.

Fen and Magnus began to make their way towards them, but before they could make it they were stopped by Filch Lacoste, an advisor to the King. Holding nothing but a minor position, Filch was the Father to the sitting king, it being a post that is given to replaced Kings that do nothing until their deaths.

“Oh hello Duke Fenson, how are you doing on this fine evening?” heaved Filch  Lacoste.

“I’m doing alright. I’m just weary from my long journey from Paladore. If I may could I please get some of that rich wine?” asked Fen.

“Why yes, yes of course Duke.” smiled Filch. Lacoste snapped his fingers and a eunuch appeared holding a pitcher and glasses of wine.

“Please, enjoy my Duke. You have had a long journey, let me not stall you any longer to your seat” said the Governor as he stepped out of the way.

Magnus relaxed his grip on his dagger and put his hand back to the side. Magnus could never be too careful around these cutthroat politicians. They would do anything to get what they wanted, even doing something as stupid as killing a Duke in the middle of a party. Finally arriving at the seat next to the Count and the Countess, both Fen and Magnus began to relax. The Count was a long time friend of the Duke, and no harm would come to them while with the Count.

“How are the good people of Paladore, my dear friend?” questioned The Count.

“Ahhh, not good. Rebels are running amok and there is nothing for us to do. We have neither the men nor the resources to deal with these heathens. That is why I journeyed here to ask the king for his support in aiding me against these damned rebels” answered Fen.

“Well I hope you get the aid that you are seeking Fen. Is there anything I can help you with?”

“Do you have any men you can commit to the fighting, any coin, food, supplies?”

“I can see what we can do. First thing tomorrow I will go to the city council and propose sending supplies to Paladore in aiding your fight against these rebels.”

“Much thanks, Paladore thanks you very much”

“Yes, thank you Count, your supplies will not be spent in vain” stated Magnus sternly scanning the room without even looking at The Count.

The feast lasted until all the food, and drink was gone, and the gray of dusk tinted the sky. Many of the cities officials left feeling bloated, and drunk; while many of the people in Paladore, and The Maw were losing their lives at the hands of the rebels. Magnus, and Fen both left their seats from the high table and stumbled their way back to their room.

Back at their room both Magnus and Fen fell into their beds drunk and full from all the festivities that had just occurred. Dozing off, Magnus thought he could hear a faint screaming coming from the end of the castle, but thought it nothing but his imagination tricking him that danger was afoot and fell into a deep sleep.

Magnus opened his eyes to a pitch black room,to the sound of shouting metal on metal coming from outside his door, and throughout the palace. This time he knew it wasn’t his imagination playing tricks on him.

Clamoring out of bed, Magnus went to the table where he left his sword and dagger. After fumbling to fasten the sword and dagger to his belt he threw the door to his chamber and walked into the sitting area with his weapons at the ready. Walking slowly and silently across the parlor, Magnus wrenched the door open to the Duke’s room, only to find Fen’s bed vacant, the room empty, and the bed chopped in half.

“FEN, FEN WHERE ARE YOU?!” screamed Magnus as he walked back into the parlor.

“‘I’m here Magnus, no need to worry yer little head. Just having a few words with our little friend over here” shouted Fen entering the room from the front door of the parlor. Next to Fen was a lifeless body bound and slumped on the floor.

Magnus sheathed his weapons and walked over to Fen. As he got closer, Magnus could make out the features of the lifeless body that Fen had tied up; it was the King’s Steward.

“Fen why is The Steward in the middle of our parlor?” questioned Magnus.

“Why don’t you ask him yerself!” scoffed Fen as he walked toward the window at the end of the room.

Taking off the gag that Fen had shoved into the Steward’s mouth, the Steward began to vomit words out of his mouth: “Oh thank the Gods above Magnus, your Duke has gone completely mad!”

“Oh has he? I know my Duke, kind sir, and he would not just bound and gag anyone, especially someone as respectable as the King’s Steward ” quipped Magnus.

“Release me this instance! I will have you both locked in the dungeon for this!” shouted The Steward.

“Aye, we’ll release you. As soon as you explain what all this shouting, fighting, and assasination attempt is all about” yelled Fen as he ran across the room with his battleaxe raised ready to strike.

“O-o-okay. W-w-well The King had invited all the dignitaries and royalty of the realm so he could-” The Steward cut off mid sentence as four of  The King’s royal guard burst through the front parlor door.

“Oh this’ll be fun. Magnus, lad, are you ready to defend your Duke?!” screamed Fen.

“Aye, m’lord. Is there ever a time where I’m not ready to fight some son’s of bitches who think they can best the Mighty Fen Fenson and Magnus of the Maw?” said Magnus drawing his dagger and sword as Fen gripped his battleaxe for the fight.

Fen and Magnus stood shoulder to shoulder as the royal guard ran right at them. Once they got within spitting distance Magnus threw his dagger at the chest of the first royal guard, dropping him dead on the floor instantly. The throwing of the dagger was the signal for Fen to charge at the oncoming enemies. Fen made contact with the second guard and heaved his battleaxe on top of the guards head; there was a loud CLANK and the guard fell to the floor, his head a bloody pulp.

With two guards left, the Duke and his companion regrouped and faced the remaining two guards. “Well what will it be boys? Meet your comrades at Hells Gate or live to fight another day?” proposed Fen.

“We are sworn to defend King Lacoste’s palace from all enemies, foreign and domestic, and a lowly Duke and his mountain bred, dragon worshipping swordsmen don’t scare us none” proclaimed the royal guard.

“So be it, may Drakar baptize you with fire when you meet him in the afterlife” said Magnus.

The two guards charged with sword and shield brandished. Fen took the one on the right, heaving his battleaxe left and right while the guard caught each blow on the shield. The guard attempted to hack and slash with his longsword at the Duke’s stomach, but found no flesh instead the sword found the wooden shaft of the Duke’s  battleaxe.

Meanwhile, Magnus took the guard on the left. Immediately the two began to parry and counter each others attacks. Magnus found it difficult to land any slashes with his sword because of the guard’s shield. The guard was gaining ground on Magnus, making him give up ground and retreat towards the window.

Fen let out a loud bellow and smashed his battleaxe on the guards shield, shattering the shield into splinters, and knocking the guard down onto the ground. With the guard in a defenseless position Fen brought his axe up above his head for the final blow. Bringing the axe down, with a battle cry loud enough to echo throughout the palace, Fen’s battleaxe cut through the guards mail as if it was like chopping vegetables for a stew.

As Magnus retreated back to the window, he landed a blow that caught the guard off balance-seeing the moment of weakness Magnus landed another blow that made a deep cut on the guards shield arm. Dropping the shield the guard regained his balance and continued his advance towards Magnus, this time with more malice. Parrying and counter the two continued their dance of swords towards the southern end of the parlor. Recognizing another moment of weakness, Magnus swooped the guards leg from underneath him and the guard fell to the ground his back colliding with the wooden floor. Standing over him Magnus plunged his blade into the neck of the royal guard and dark red blood began to stain the golden eagle sigil on the carpet that covered the floor.

“Well that was exciting, no?” said Magnus trying to catch his breath.

“Aye, now let’s continue our chat with our little friend” said Fen wrenching his axe from the floor boards, and throwing it over his shoulder.

“P-p-please, I’ll tell you anything you want, just please don’t kill me!” cried The Steward.

“WHAT IS GOING ON!” bellowed Fen.

“Like I was saying before, the King invited all of the dignitaries of the realm to his palace so he could kill off the one’s he found to be unruly and of no use anymore” said The Steward.

“And were we on the list?” questioned Magnus.

“Y-y-yes!” shouted The Steward.

“Well Magnus what shall we do with our little friend, eh? Kill him? Maim him?” asked Fen as he looked at Magnus.

“I think we should let Drakar decide his fate; see if this little bastard is a true dragon believer, let’s see if he can fly” said Magnus.

“You and your damned Dragon Gods Magnus, but I guess I’d like to see this fool fall out a window too” laughed Fen.

“What? No you can’t! If you do that then the King will have the perfectly justified reason to want you both dead” shouted The Steward.

“Damn, the little bastard is right Magnus, we can’t just kill him, he is a valuable asset and full of information ” said Fen.

“Then I guess he’s coming with us” smiled Magnus.