A Dark Templar Tale

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7th March 2013, 21:59
sardanapal

A Dark Templar Tale

Chapter 1 : BIRTH

It was a sunny day when the boy saw the light of the road.It was a sunny but not a completely happy day.His family was on the move.A violent move from their home in the borders of Vendhya to the eastern mysteries of Khitai.A journey that was sponsored by hate and murder.A journey to a second life.

He had his first breath on the road,he had his first cry on the road,he had his name given on the road.An old induist priest put his little body on a rock and reach his hands above his wondering small head.His mother two feet away was crying from the only eye that a hyrkanian blade has sparred.His father was already too far and deep away to share his happiness.
"And the name of the boy is?" asked the priest after some minutes of ritualistic blabbering
"Ramanli" answered firmly his mother
"The son of our lord Rama then , seventh avatar of Vishnu to always reminds us our burnt country" aknowledged happily for the name choice the old priest.
The small crowd that had gathered beside the rock congratulate the mother for her offspring,and quickly turned away back to the large caravan that had formed a tired tail of sweat and dreams.
The journey to their new homes lasted a whole month,a journey made difficult from the harsh east summer and the occasional raids of villains from the neighbouring mountains.
After they reach Khitai the caravan broke away in smaller teams , others were headed to the capital in the province in Paikang, others prefered to test their luck in the lushid plains in Grasslands, and other splitted between the 2 major cities in Shaulun.The mother and her child decided to reach the safety of Pin-Pin , a square settlement in Northern Grasslands where rumor had that there was plenty of work in the houses of the various factions represantatives.
The years past with the mother cleaning the house of an officer of the Last Legion ,an elit squad of guards to the Emperor,and the child chasing chickens in the streets of Pin-Pin and trying to concentrate to the teachings of Gun-Hai and old teacher who had voluntered to learn the refuges children writing,mathematics and philosophy.

Chapter 2: PUBERTY

It was a sunny day when Gun Hai passed away and his favorite student was there with some flowers to rest by his grave.As his life passed Ramanli would always remember his first teacher to all things significant.
As his body started to escape the childish innosence and demanded some recognition Ramanli would spend his long evenings in the Last Legion gymnasium with a wooden stick in his hand mimicking the moves of the soldiers, the stance of their feet and the lust of blood in their eyes.He often received a mock or worse an ignorance but his spirit was strong and his body was thirsty.
One evening in the black smith shop that he worked a peculiar customer made his appearance.He wore a dark brown robe with golden strings woven in his chest representing a skull.He remember seeing these guys often in the market of Pin-Pin.His now blind mother had told him that they are called Yellow-Priests of Yun and they were involved in dark magic always stirring the kingdom of Yen-Lo-Wang,god of death and ruler of the fifth court of FengDu.
"Greetings small one" the figure speak to Ramanli with a cold-chill voice
"I m not a small one" the answer came rather violently from the small one chest
"i ve watch you a while now and i smell the will of power in you not so small one" the figure came back with a calm but firm tone.
"I can handle my own pretty well" Ramanli answered and turn his back trying to avoid the numerous paths this conversation could go
"Can you show me then?" the figure asked and walked through the door to the back alley
The sun was started to bend over the mountains as the figure and the not-so small one stood facing each other under the great olive tree.
"Take this and do your best now" said the figure placing a blade in the hands of Ramanli who hesitated to even raise the blade he was now holding.
"Come on i promise i wont die" the figure said with a reassuring smile "Do you best combination of moves on me"
Ramanli raised the blade with light shivers.He started his dance of death with his two legs moving in a dazzling scheme and his hands carresing the wind with the blade.His battle nirvana ended with the blade 1 inch of the figures throat.
"Impressed my not-so small friend , dont thing i have witnessed this move again,may i ask how you call it?"
"I ve given it a silly name no matter" answered Ramanli with a slight rush in his face
"Oh but please share your creation" He was always talking with a straight tone that bothed irritated and at the same time boosted his ego .
"Blood for you,aid for me" said Ramanli
The figure turned his back and started to walk away.
"Where are you going,what about this blade?"
"Oh you can keep that as a gift , maybe your friends at the Last Legion may acknowledge the talent they have in their company"
"i dont take gifts from undead lovers" Ramanli shouted "I dont want power without justice"
The figure stopped and turned his face.At a moment there Ramanli thought he saw flames in his eyes.
"There isnt a gram of justice in the word power my not-so small one friend"
"Wait whats your name?" Ramanli asked
"Power" the figure answered with a thundering voice.

That same evening even his blind mother sensed her son was different.Sleep was not an option for many nights to come.After few months he enlisted in the service of the Last Legion assigned to the trouble region of Kara Korum.

Chapter 3 : ADOLESCENCE

It was a sunny day when the figure came back to draw Ramanli back to his fate road.
The time on the Eastern Shelter passed slower than a injured snail.Ramanli was assigned to a small squad of 20 Legions at the feet of the crater in Kara Korum.Their task was to intercept contraband from topical gang teams harrassing the trade routes.
After his long and usually boring patrols Ramanli tended to continue practicing his moves on a straw man they had built in the camp while the others in his company intoxicated themselves with Nef Nah Elixir and Opium.
His hand was ready to strike the finishing blow on the straw man when he sensed someone watching him.
"Hello not-so small one" Yes he recognised the voice that haunted his nights the past 2 years.
"Hello power" he answered smiling.
They didnt say nothing more.As two interconnected puppets they started swinging swords at eachother raising dust and awe,and scaring the few scorpions that inhabited the desolete soil of Kara Korum.
Noone saw Ramanli for months to come.The Last Legion issued a deserter bounty on him and few scarse reports pointed to some attacks on local villains brutally killed with mysterious techniques.
Something stirred in the Empire.Rumours surfaced about the Emperor being sick or worse crazy.The Jade Citadel closed its door for the traders and the public.Chaos started organising in mainland.The Last Legion without orders and supplies.Other factions stood up and started to demand regions and privileges.
It is always hard when your only friendly presence passes away.Ramanli s mother was the only thing that tie him to Khitai and now he was coming home to bury her.
As he stood with his black horse at the hill overlooking Pin-Pin,he saw the place he grew up to be in siege.The Scarlet Circle forces have surrounded the walls and were hammering on the Last Legions.
He took off the red firework that every Last Legion had for an emergency case.As the firework poped in the sky the battle in front stopped for a few seconds.
"Reinforcements - Reinforcements" yelled the Legions behind the walls and their voice reached the tents of the Scarlets.
Ramanli charged his black horse onwards chopping and breaking, cracking and bleeding.
When his horse fell dead , he then continue his deadly dance as the day he was under the olive tree.His voice was healing his wounds and the strikes in his shield were damaging the aggresors.
The doors of Pin-Pin opened and the Legions made their final stand.
The sun ashamed of the blood and the intestines climbed down.The Scarlets were routed back.
"You are the deserter Legion" said the aging Officer who his house was cleaned by his mother a million times.
"Im not a Legion anymore" said Ramanli "I just want my mothers body"
"You are definitely using dark magic" pointed the Officer backing away slightly "This is not right"
"Then should i yell the Scarlets to come back?"
The Officer turn and saw his battered men.
"You have one hour and one spot in the cemetery then please leave" the Officer said.
Ramanli placed few flowers in his mother grave as he has done before with his teacher.
As his galloped away from Pin-Pin one soldier shouted "How we can call you savior of Pin-Pin?"
"The not-so small one" answered Ramanli.
The boat reached the docks of Old Tarantia
The port authorities questioned everyone on their way out due to the recent events with a stygian lunatic called Thoth-Amon.
"Whats your name and occupation pls" the guard asked
"Ramanli Dark Templar"
"Vacation or business in Old Tarantia?" the guard asked bored
Ramanli gazed the big bridges and the kings castle afar.Then he turned to the guard :

"Business .....Bloody business"
31st March 2013, 20:17
sardanapal

Chapter 4 : REBIRTH
STORY 1: The eagle and the worm

His first weeks on the Aquilonian capital were harsh ones. He had no relatives, no friends and no job connections.He was wandering aimlesly between the crowded market and the common district in search of an oppurtunity to fill his stomach.His exotic darks looks and his sharp gaze were overwelmed by his worn tunic and shield.

One day as he was chasing the cool shadows of the trees in a warm summer evening outside the inn in Old Tarantia, he overheard a company of two men asking for a hand in combat.
"What seem to be the problem?" asked as he approached them.
The first one was a oversized- tall,blonde muscled warrior with eyes cold as steel and skin hardened by the mood of the weapons striking at him.
The second one was a short, energetic witty fellow with a dead bear carcass on his shoulder and some strange word cravings in his holding mace.
"Oh we have a candidate little brother" said the ant to the giant
"Hmmm" growled back the giant
"He is not very vocal i assume?" pointed out Ramanli to the bear-dressed one
"He prefers to strike than to talk " said the dwarf-like talkative one and he continued
"We are two brothers from Cimmeria a cloud covered country in the North , my name is Aelroth and this is my brother Denmoth,bounty-hunters extraordinaire " and he bowed gracefully
"There is a ransom from the local guard for some local thiefs hiding in the sewer system beneath the city, we could probably can handle this on our four hands but it would be safe if we had a third pair of hands bashing some heads too"

Ramanli was always not too fond of money, but the battle sounds of his stomach told him otherwise. It wasnt but a few minutes later that they were entering the smugglers tunnels as his bear-dressed friend has inform him earlier.

They were deep inside what seemed to be a labyrinth of corridors with heavy moisture that could kneel your will to the ground. Strange mushroom creations of a wicked mind grew from the cracks of the sweaty walls.Ramanli was not too fond of closed spaces being raised in the neverending plains of the Grasslands.He wasnt even fond of his new two friends as they walked in front of him only sharing gazes with eachother.
The dirty liquid that engulfed the corridors up to their knees was stirring from times to times and gave Ramanli an alarming sense of danger,empowered by the darkness that was thicker and thicker as they moved onwards.
"Dont worry my eastern friend, they are just baby-crocodiles,pretty harmful unless you step on their tails" said laughing Aelroth
"Hmmmm" growled back Ramanli making his brother Denmoth passing a stange look on him as though he have stolen his precious words.

It wasnt long when they started hearing some fainted voices in the distance indicative of the bounty they haunted. They moved on their toes for a few minutes with the dark now as their ally.
In a big room just a few meters away they saw their prey. They were some fire pits giving warmth and light to a company of 10 to 15 individuals laughing and feasting from the ground.
"Well we ll need a plan it seems " whispered Ramanli to Aelroth
"It seem s we dont have the element of deadly surprise,because of the light in there" added on.
"Oh but we have , we have ..." answered back Aelroth and looked at his brother.
"Whenever you ready little brother" said almost hysterically laughing.
The giant took out a sword almost half the height of Ramanli and stormed ahead with a yell
"AARRRRGHHHH!!!!"
"That is his second most used word i pressume" thought Ramanli to himself
ending his complicated strategy thoughts that he was started to weave.
Denmoth was far from frenzy, far from berserk , he was an incarnation of the Death Lord himself, swinging his sword and cutting like butter the masses of aunts that wanted to climb and bide him. His brother from a safe distance was yielding his mace creating a blue aura on his brothers feet that made his idol even more frightening.
The fight was ended before it began with Ramanlis blade cutting only one or two thiefs.Aelroth was trying to calm his brother lust for blood as it seems it didnt went off after the last body fell lifeless to the moisty ground.They started looting the corpses for valuables and loving copper when Ramanli suddenly felt a hard hit on his head.

He awake few hours later on the same room.The two brothers were gone and there was a crocodile few feet away starring at him uncertain of his action.He put some effort to stand on his feet, his head feeled like all the rocks of their shitty Cimmeria country had fallen on him.
The night had moven on when Ramanli sat at the Inn and order some cheap food.He had a few coppers on him left from the pockets of a thief.As he was taking some bights he remember a tale from his old teacher Gun-Hai that told the kids under the great olive tree
"If you were an animal what will you be an eagle or a worm?" asked Gun-Hai the little kids that were lying on their feet in front of him
"Eagle,Eagle , Eagle " shouted all of them
"Alas" said the wise teacher "Can you imagine nature with only eagles living in the sky?"
"Some of you maybe become worms you see , but be ever vigilant and become a surviving one" ended Gun Hai.

"Well i do certainly feel like a worm now " thought Ramanli
"And not a succesful one to be honest"

Chapter 4 : REBIRTH
Story 2: A slap in my face

He often caught himself staring at the golden waters of Khorotas reflecting the sorrow of the sunset.The days past without a plan and thus without excitement.He didnt believe that he actually would miss his homeland so soon,but his was here in a place without friends ,recognition and destination.
In the market of Old Tarantia there was a recruitment office of teams with different goals and characteristics.He has heard that they were named guilds and King Conan had allowed their existence under some basic rules.He often passed in front of the recruitement posters in his way to the port.His job description the last few weeks was far from impressive.He was carrying crates from the cargo ships to variours store houses and traders across the noisy town.
He needed a fast and pompous break.He finded it,just in the wrong way.
Every Sunday the tired masses of workers,slaves,whores and few nobles actually, would gather outside the walls in the road to Poitain and feast their thirsty look on the famous arena fights. Eight new recruits and two veterans handpicked each week by the arena attendants ,spilled their blood and the crowds routine. The system of contest was in clear favor of the veterans.The eight new reruits that filled the applications would fight eachother over death with just some breaks for a drop of water or the occasional bandage.The one that finally stood breathing , often not able to spell his name, would face one of the two veterans of his choise.If he prevailed he would have an audience with king Conan himself and maybe a chance to be accepted to the Black Dragon elite unit of guards.This audience had never happened up to now.

Ramanli had filled an application the day before and his name was chosen for the Sunday bloodshed.
He felt strange holding his shield and sword after so many weeks of only wearing his dirty work clothes.
He entered the arena blinded by the sun and deafened by the blasphemous yells for his pitty life from the monstrous inhabitants of the arena.He looked at his seven contestants and feeled sorry for many of them.Some peasants ignorant of the grisp of the sword, with a look of agony on their faces suggesting how wrong they were to be here.His gaze was caught by a young boy no more than 15 years old,reminding him of his days in the Last Legion gymnasium.
The fight started.Ramanli avoided to look straight to the faces of the sheeps slaughtered by his hand.His eyes followed the birds on the trees,whose sudden terror reminded him that he had claimed another life.Suddenly he spot the boy to be in danger. An overzised barbarian had cornered him and bashed his axe on the boys crying shield.The last hit broke the shield into fragments of despair,and as he moved to chop the little gladiator he felt a warm blade travelling through his abdomen.Ramanli droped the barbarian corpse of him and grabbed the boy from the neck
"My blade seldom miss but it will now, dont you dare to stand up,you have enough blood on you to faint dead.Say hi to your mother from me"
The first masquerade of fight was over .
The two veterans stood few feet away of Ramanli ,sending pitty looks.
"Come on our Eastern Blade the time has come for glory to visit you" shouted the Arena master.
"Choose your destiny now or be silent for ever" completed.
His name was Aminektop and he was a priest divoted in the glory of Xotli,the God whose hunger is never Slaked , the Lord of Ptahuacan, the Governor of Zikkurat.These dark priests were seldom seen in the lands of Aquilonia and were always followed by Conan s secret agents as there was the fear of them spreading the dividing word of Thoth-Amon.
Ramanli wasnt sure of why he chosen him,maybe his fiery eyes reminded him of the strange Tutor he had in the past , a figured that he called "Power".
When the horns awaken him of thoughts past, Ramanli stopped watching the birds in the trees or the walking clouds.He now had a worthy opponent and he was ready to earn the recognition he so desperately wanted.The first strikes belonged to his adversary and were delivered with ferocious strength for a so called Priest.Ramanli started using some basic moves but his opponent was agile and fast to avoid every single one of them,as he was aimng to tire Ramanli chasing him around. An opening on Ramanli defense put him on serious danger as the Priest outer some words of power and an warm brease started climbing on his feet.It was a sensation,that Ramanli never felt before.As the incantation wasnt disturbed the warm feeling,became fever, and the fever became intense heat that hurt his every single vain and arthrosis on his body.Ramanli understood his momentun was falling dangerously short.He remembered than his silly-named technique and gathered all the strenght of his incinirated body.
"Blood for you , aid for me " yelled and it was the first time the birds didnt rush flying over the trees maybe curious to see the effect of this unearthy cry.
Few seconds after the priest was lying on the ground, injured by Ramanli s blade in his left lung.Ramanli was on top of him and was happy for the fact that the burning words stopped to surface from his dark mouth.
His blade started flying though the air aimed at the unholy larynx when suddenly some images past and clouded his hand.
Ramanli was under the olive tree holding a chicken.He had broken its neck few moments before and his teacher Gun-Hai was walking to him.
"Why did you do that?" Gun-Hai asked Ramanli
"Because...i can and i love the sound of the broken neck of this chicken" 10 year old Ramanli answered
The hand of Gun-Hai risen and covered the sun disk.Then it landed with force on Ramanlis cheek.
"Why did you do that ?" Ramanli asked his teacher as cries filled his eyes
"Because....i can and i love the sound of my hand against your face" answered his teacher as he walked away

Ramanli droped the dead chicken.

Ramanli droped the flying blade.

The next few minutes past with Ramanli having no recollection of them.The arena attendants were stragling to keep him alive from the angry crowd who wanted to see another dead body.He received kicks,fists and spits on his way out of the arena and finally fainted on the cold corridors that led back to the inner city.
His blade was resting in the dirt of the arena , when a strange hand pick it up.
"Ahhh my not-so small friend , you disapoint me greatly" said the strange figure as he gathered the gift that he has given to Ramanli years before.
Ramanli awoke in the company of pain.Few bandages were struggling to calm the wounds on his body.He was lying on a bed that wasnt his.The walls were pretty empty and the furniture in the room pretty poor.a man was sitting in a chair examining him.

"Where ..where am i?"
"Now,now you calm yourself,eastern fighter, its not time yet to stand."
"What is this place? Who are you?"
"In due time my friend, in due time you ll know now rest please"
"Tell me at least your name , who is my savior?"
The strange man stood up.
"You can call me Kalanthes" he said
"Now rest"

Chapter 4: REBIRTH
Story 3 : A different kind of conquer

He was recovering with a speed of a leopard.The days past with long conversations on the porch of the humble estate. Ramanli had the certainty that was more than meet the eye in the old priest with the humble look in front of him.He had passen the knowledge to him that he was a priest of Ibis and from the small drunken words in the inn of Old Tarantia Ramanli knew that these priests were a fading species of scholars,diviners and doctors.
There was something about him that calmed his doubtful spirit as though his old teacher Gun-Hai had resurrected and was talking to him again.He received great joy from their long walks at the garden behind the library where it seems the old priest had made his second residence always studying and searching.
In one of their usual walks through the smells of the market and the words in their mouths,Ramanli saw her. See was an invasion of beauty and excitement.His eyes were leeching away all of his presence energy, and the sound of speaking Kalanthes was a mere lullaby in the distance.The old priest understood the travelling of his companion gaze and crafted an excuse to leave him alone with his enjoyous predicament.
She had long brown-red hair like a bleeding sunset.Her body was slim and airy standing off in the crowd like a cypress between bushes. Her every breath that moved her chest pounded Ramanli like a hundred axes.
“You were more active in the arena last Sunday” her voice awaken him from his statuish slumber
“You were there?” asked ashamed Ramanli and lowered his eyes.It was the first time in his life that he did that.
“I wish I wasn’t though , the men and their games are complete strangers to me”
“Do you wanna taste some watermelons?” she continued

She was the daughter of Elionas a trader of vegetables and fruits from the fertile grounds of Poitain.He was famous in Old Tarantia for his bench of fresh and cheap products. The passing of the seasons had took its toll though and now he was lying in a bed with two useless legs.His daughter had taken over the family business.
Ramanli was a meat-lover and it was the first time in his life that tasted so many fruits and vegetables , a price he was willing to pay.After the closure of the market he usually escorted Lucinda back to her rented house.She was staying in Old Tarantia about half of the year and then he moved back to hers father estate to oversee the workers , gather the harvest and nurse the only family she had left.
It was an autumn night when Lucinda invited him to her house.The beating of his heart was so strong that he had forced him to take deep breaths to forget it.As he was laying in bed awaiting her return he kept wondering the mysteries of this creature.He never had felt so wonderfully helpless before.
She layed beside him guiding his hands over her body.The mighty warrior was taking lessons obedient and without shame.His passion dame lured him to a dance different from anything he had witnessed before.He discovered muscles on his body that he never knew were there.Her long hair were hiding the lovers faces in a nest of tenderness and pleasure.
The sunrise find him in his bed with a broad smile on his face.He had left her tutor to rest and was already keen to plan the following s night love fair.
As he walked through her empty bench that afternoon his face was darken.
“Was I that clumsy?” thought to himself and decided to come back later
The bench though continued to be empty.He decided to search for here in her house.
He reached the door that seemed to be opened.He walked though the front yard into the main entrance.
The smell of blood was too keen to his nose, but the sight in front of him was not.
At the wall of the bed of yesterdays fond memories, his dame was crucified naked and humiliated.
The blood had soaked the bed, her hair were now pure red, her body scissored and stitched like an old battered doll.
A blade was emerging by her abdomen , a blade very familiar to him.
“You son of a whore” he yelled running away outside chasing his thoughts.
He was roaming the streets with a deadly pace, like a frenzy hunter humiliated by his prey.
As he was returning to the slaughter site he heard the voice that was once loving and guiding.
“You walk the sorrow road not-so small one, a road that isn’t for you” the figure spoke from the shadows of a roof
“You murderer why the **** you did that? Why her?”
“But surely you cannot accusing me of returning you my gift.I was greatly disappointed you lost it.”
“I ll hunt you , I ll skin you and and I ll spread your intestines to the weather like a dirty laundry” Ramanli shouted ready to leap on the walls of the house
“Aahhh a little hatred is that you miss to return to your course my friend. Grap to it,water it and let it guide you” said the figure and with great agility vanished in the roofs of the sleepy capital.

“Did you love her ? “ asked Kalanthes the fighter that was endlessly walking up and down the room.
“Love ….what is love I don’t know.I just know I was very fond of her and she is dead because of me”
“I ll rest only when his ****ing robe has more holes from my iron than the cheese in your basement.”
“Well my dear friend love is the warm ferocious stream that plunders your soul and doesn’t let anything else grow there”
“It is a gift from a stranger that alters you for ever” Kalanthes looked Ramanli with a father compation.
“I t seems that the gifts to me only brought trouble” Ramanli answered.

The day was growing tired when Ramanli put Lucindas dead body next to her father bed.
After her funeral Ramanli with his horse become wind over the hills.
“Find me again whenever you need me” the words of Kalanthes were echoing in his ears.

Chapter 4 : REBIRTH
Story 4: A boy and his toy

His was a young teenager when the strange figure had passen him the blade.He was very proud of carrying it beside his hip, although due to the length of the steel, it kept hitting to the ground carrying with his steps little stones and mud.
He remembered the first time he showed up in the Last Legion gymnasium and trying to keep the blade from shaking with all the strength his little body could rent to him.The soldiers that evening had some unexpected laughs but the boy didn’t mind because he was happy for his gift , a gift that would nourish his dreams for many nights to follow.
Now he was galloping with his black stallion and with the blade again by his hip , but now he wasn’t a sight to laugh at.The information about the strange man with the black robe and the golden skull woven to his chest was easy to recover.Not many Priests of Yun were walking the Old Empire grounds and Ramanli was following a warm trail.
It was like the figure wasn’t try to hide at all,knowing that his lost student would come for him.
The tired horse legs carried Ramanli to Thunder River a place known for its natural beauty.
And indeed the sight of the struggling waterfalls pounding the broken earth was breathtaking. It was so unique that Ramanli almost forgot the reason that brought him to this unexpected heaven with him being an angel of death.
The small cottage stood proud on the slope of a hill with a snakish path to its front door.The view from up there was filling a man’s heart with the purpose of existence.

“Greetings to you not-so small one” said the figure opening the door cancelling Ramanli’s silent approach
“Greetings to you too” managed to speak out our startled fighter.
He turned his back on Ramanli like they were close friends and stood at the edge of the slope
“Can you imagine the mass of the water gathered in this land?Its like the Gods spared it at the creation day and put it all here for safekeeping” he remarked with a fading voice.
“But no its not the time for sightseeing I presume” he turned away with a fiery look that Ramanli had seen on numerous moments in the past.
“What time is it really?” asked the figure again the silent and calmed now warrior
“It’s a time of repentance maybe, its time of obedience perhaps or its time of vengeance?”
Silence filled the air and even the noise of the watery flow couldn’t break it.
“I know one thing for sure “ answered Ramanli and was sure that his eyes were pretty fiery too.
“It time for my Rebirth” and he charged to his former benefactor.

Every hit on their swords put memories of their long nights discussing and parrying their arguments in front of their straggling eyes.
Every spill of blood brought icons of them engaging innocence and guilt.
Every evading move reminded their runs to the forests and the labor of their training together.
Every aggressive body caress pointed out their past sharing of the food and the warmth of the campfires that lighted their nights.
Every tiring breath they took ,put in motion the feelings of trust that outstriped their second thoughts.

They have spent two years together after Ramanli's disappearance from the Last Legion camp in Kara Korum. Ramanli had always felt respect and wonder about his mysterious tutor. His grueling somatic exercise was sweeten by their inspired talks over the nights.But Ramanli always felt that was something missing.He didn’t have a clue about his role in this sudden turn of his life.

“What do you crave of me ? At last tell me before I close your eyes” Ramanli desperately asked his former master now lying in the turf with this cursed blade an inch from his skull and with its two bleeding hands straggling to put a soft barrier between his brains and Ramanlis wrath.
“Who are you ? What do you want of me?” asked again Ramanli almost crying
“Im your Power , you know who I am " answered the figure with a gasping voice
“Im your beginning and your end , that will never change” said again almost begging for Ramanli to end his agony
“No more riddles I don’t want your stupid riddles”
“ I want to see truth in your eyes, just before I shut them forever” the blade started to bend the tired will of his master.
“ There is neither truth or lie just Power my loved student, and I have fulfilled my role, yours is just now beginning. End this , as I die now with pride from your hands.”
Ramanli gave birth to his monologue as his blade was plunging into his masters skull, slashing the bones like butter and forcing small brass waterfalls of blood soaking the ground envious of their large watery brothers.
“Arrghh I don’t want riddles I told you ,you crazy b******, I spit on your power and piss on your role”
“I m the owner of my will that is cutting you like a helpless pig and putting you in the fire-pits of my memory , so I remember you as pile of ashes from now on”
He stopped when his gift had touched the ground after splitting his master brains like the watermelons in Lucinda's bench.

He dropped on his back watching the sky and the clouds tired of even blinking.

“All of the past struggle for nothing, no harvesting of truth, no evidence of honor” he said desperately.
“All of the past for nothing” he covered his crying eyes with his bloody hands.

The blade found its place deep inside a pond of water below a bridge in Thunder River.
Ramanli sensed a weight lifted from his soul looking the sword lost in the waters.
“Here is an approriate place for a new baptism” he thought with a bitter smile.

As he summoned his stallion and started his long way back to Old Tarantia he remembered again Gun-Hai his first teacher

“Oh big sword you have there my boy “ he said to him laughing
“Oh I can show you some moves I learned “ answered Ramanli and started a clumsy whirlwind
The blade sliped from his hands and injured the old mans elbow
“Oh master im sorry to hurt you” Ramanli told in shame
“Don’t worry my boy , a wound that is not intended is not a wound at all”
“But it hurts nontheless,doesn’t it?” Ramanli asked Gun-Hai
“There isn’t a wound that can hurt you from another’s one hand.Only you can wound yourself my little boy, and some time unfortunately in a deadly way”
8th October 2013, 13:52
sardanapal

Chapter 5 : MATURING
Story 1 : Dancing Words

His past burdens where long now closed in a chest in his house.He had returned to the simple labour life and was not ashamed of it at all.He even started making his first stable acquaintances that would color his evenings.
Kalanthes his familiar priest from past days was nowhere to be seen although he continued to check on his house every other day.
He remembered the first time he entered the Royal Library just curious to see where Kalanthes was passing most of his life.The floor was entrusted to the famous Border Kingdom marbles crafted in squares depicting scenes of Aquilonia s every day life.The selves divided the large main room into a labyrinth of corridors more scary to Ramanli than the sewers below Old Tarantia.The wooden selves that rested the uncountable volumes of human knowledge climbed up the ground like the branches of a massive tree to the ceiling where there was a magnificent depiction of a phoenix, symbol of the defender god of Aquilonia Mitra.
He started to spend more and more time in the library especially enjoying the books that described Khitai soils and inhabitants with stories suffocated in superstition and ignorance from the famous writers of the kingdom.
One day as he was leaving the Library his interest was caught by an old beggar sitting at the end of the stairs of the magnificant building. The beggar probably intoxicated by some cheap alcohol was outering syllabes entertaining a small crowd gathered close to his feet.
He approached with the purpose of sharing a portion of his copper to this strange soul.
The beggar had grey hair dinched in a mysterious oily substance, his face was scarred from the weather ,time and some parasites maybe. His open singing mouth hosted only a few teeth that struggled to win over gravity and stay attached to his discolored gum.His fingers although dirty were slim and moved gracefully ,accompanying the dance of his words.
As he reached to rest a coin before the old man , the beggar turned to him with arms uprising
‘I shatter your pulse cage with deadly art
I gaze and taste your spitted heart’
‘Excuse me?’ Ramanli answered surprised
‘Haha you cannot hide from me in your elusive work outfit……warrior!’ the beggar said with a triumphant tone
‘Oh yes…you got me there’ said Ramanli with a smile , moving away towards the road
‘But please stay have a game of Battle Circle with me’ came back the beggar
Ramanli had overlooked the wooden board in front of the man , consinsting of three homocentrous circles , that formed a snaily path to the center .Some carved small figures were placed in the three rows of squares between the circles depicting a defender army and an aggressor one.
‘Welcome to my famous Battle Circle game’ said the beggar as he started explaining Ramanli the pattern of moves of the figures , their attack capabilities and the rules of engagement.
‘So as you can see although it’s a game with dices its not depending on luck’ continue the beggar after his long explaining of the rules that made the sun go sleepy.
‘The one that stays last on the center wins the fight…..and that’s usually me’ said laughing the teeth-less one
‘But I m so rude ….allow me to introduce myself…..Laertius the unluckiest basta** from Corinthia, master of distichs and lover of fruits….at your service warrior’ he standed up and bowed before Ramanli
‘You sure know how to attract customers..or should I say victims?’ said Ramanli looking at the suspicious wooden board in front of him
‘It’s a game of mind, for spare time to fill
A loser in here is the one with no will’
'Spare time or empty pockets i wonder' thought Ramanli but decided to play along with this strange guy for the time being.
The first games flowed in a training manner so Ramanli was not annoyed that he constantly heared the winning phrase ‘ And I have the center’ over and over again.
He enjoyed his time with the old beggar but the night had fallen heavy on his eye-brows so he kindly thanked the man for the fun hours his spent and he stood up to start his way home.
‘I bid your Eastern soul, an honest farewell
Next time you here bring copper as well’ the old beggar bursted into laughs
‘Crazy old f*** ‘ thought Ramanli as he closed his eyes
He started dividing his evenings between the library and his new friend. They shared their tales with a daring sum of honesty for an infant relationship.Ramanli told him about his family exile,about his mother and his old teacher.Laertius told him about his rich life in Corinthia that was destroyed by his pation of dices, his immigration to Aquilonia and some of the events that led him to poverty.In between their lengthy talks ofcourse Ramanli kept hearing the awkward now phrase from the beggar:
‘And I have the center…again’ that ofcourse now meant not only embarasement but dipparting with some coins as well
‘You know I ve spent time in Prison Colony warrior?’ the beggar told Ramanli one evening
‘The notorious facility of justice?’ ask with interest Ramanli
‘Well you can called it that..i presume, although now due to some gormless advisors King Conan have they putting there minor offenders next to rapists,cut-throats ,traitor and pedophils’
‘What was your crime Laertius?’
‘Well I ..stole an apple’ answered innocently the beggar
‘Only that?’ persisted Ramanli with a witty look
‘And I ehhh ..knockback the proprietor of the apple so to speak…but I was in self defence you see’
‘Only that?’ Ramanli was ready to break in laughs
‘And I ehhhhh.. bite the ear of a guard trying to arrest me’ said the beggar
‘Only that?’ Ramanli answered trying so much not to collapse in tears from the bust a gut he had
‘And I farted on the judge when he asked me if im innocent or guilty….but you see that was a bad bowel call from some rotten raspberries I had the same morning’ continue the beggar in a calm tone not influenced by Ramanlis fall to the ground laughing.
‘And by the way I have your center once more’ Laertius concluded
‘Bollocks’ Ramanli said trying to recover from his hysterical condition
It was the happiest days he had spent in Aquilonia so far, he became a stable company to the beggar who earned his food with his board game and the poets he was ordered to deliver to potential lovers or the ones who wanted to flannel an official of the court.
‘If you had 5 minutes to live only ,what will you choose?’ asked Ramanli over a game of Battle Circle
‘Meeting with your best friends,making love to a lady,or eating your most loved food?’
‘Well …can I do them all?’ answered Laertius
‘What?”
‘Well I don’t have a problem if my best friends see me hoping a beautiful misses while I eat rasberries of her belly’ came back Laertius leaving Ramanli speechless for a while.
‘I want to thank you for bestowing some of your thirst of life to me ‘ Ramanli said after a small break
Laertius raised his sight and blinked in reception.
Ramanli stood up determined to proceed to something he was thinking a lot of time the past months.
‘I have the arena master to visit for some past due dealings , will you lend me an appropriate distich?’ Ramanli asked Laertius
‘I have a distich for you my friend,and you only’ said Laertius
‘The flowers on my grave, a kind deed
the turn of your life , will find me agreed’
‘Thank you very much’ Ramanli said to the beggar understanding the meanings of his dancing words.
‘Oh and by the way….look I have the center’
‘Curses!!!!!’ Laertius yelled laughing.

Chapter 5 : Maturing
Story 2 : Virtues of a Dragon – a) Crumple your pride

The arena master s desk was stationed next to the southern arc of the Bridge of Vilerrus that led to the noble district of Old Tarantia.
It was a busy space that harbored ambition, hope and memories of blood spilled aplenty.
The arena master s face shadowed in the view of our eastern fighter the only so far that had survived the onslaught of the arena.
“I m coming for a late compensation” Ramanli told the startled man
“I m pretty sure you remember my face” concluded
The arena master was a medium-sized restless man , with a dark origin from Kheshatta . Rumours had it he was an ex champion of the notorious arena fights in Khemi
After the first few seconds of surprise the man told Ramanli.
“Well strictly speaking you did not killed your last adversary” the words flew over cautiously from his mouth
“But as I m a man that has learn to spot great opportunities I can get you in touch with Arestinius” he got up and waved Ramanli to follow him
Walking besides the rich villas of the noble districts with the colorful gardens and the more colorful inhabitants was a sight so strange to Ramanlis humble uprising.It seems that life in this area mocked life just a few hundred meters away.
As they were passing through this other form of existence so alien to Ramanli the arena master was explaining him the structure and purposes of the royal guards called “The Dragons” or as they were known in the streets “Black Dragons”
The training camp was in a receding site from the rich inhabitants nirvana so that the cries of agony and pain from the hard exert of the initiates didn’t interfered with the liveness of the flora in their gardens or their lukulian meals.
As they reached the entrance of the camp the arena master signalled Ramanli to stand still as he was going to have a talk with Arestinius the Dragon in charge of the training program of the initiates.
The camp had a pentagon shape with its walls reaching 10 feets high nursering a humble garden of its own with ivies, daisies, chrysanthemums and rabbitbush.
The camp itself at least from what Ramanli could glimpse at was a barren field of dirt and stones naked to the weather habbits.An obstacle course was the only material of the ground.There was a primitive hut at the west wall that he would later find out it was their version of an infirmary, with a old veteran Dragon offering his expertise, from the collection of his own wounds through time, with the help of some herbs and basic instruments of hemorrhage control. At the far end there was a wooden building that homed the officer in charge with his few trainers. The wannabe s Dragons after the day’s torture were to return to their homes and return again the next day if their will was enduring some more punishement. The training was hard,it involved many “extracurricullum” activities as the trainers choose to call them , and at the end of the month the names written on the billboard by the entrance were seldom more than two. These names would had a chance for the final test granded to them by King Conan the mighty himself.
After some minutes he could see the figures of two man approaching following by four respected-sized warriors. The warriors separated from the company of the two along the centre of the camp after some words exchange.
The arena master passed by Ramanli with a nod of sympathy , and before him stood Arestinius, the Dragon in charge of “the education” as the Dragons themselves called the inhuman training program.
Arestinius was a figure that definitely transfused respect to his surroundings. He had long blonde hair caught in a knot behind his neck. His forehead had a slight tilt forward as it descented to meet a pair of eyes colored as an angry sea under a heavy cloud meeting. His moves were slow but firm under the humble leather tunic he wore accompanied by a pair of padsoles choken on the dirt of the arena.
“Are you determined to put your name in the list ?” he asked Ramanli without even introducing himself
Our warrior took the chulk and put his name along the others in need of “education”
“Follow me then” said Arestinius and walked himself by the center of the camp with Ramanli at his footstep
Arestinius stopped and look the tired group of people around him that took a chance for a deep breath at the sight of the newcomer
Ramanli could sense the second thoughts flying over the heads of the beaten up soon to be his brothers in arms. Second thoughts of desertion that were only driven away by the magnitude of humiliation they would endure if they returned home without the black-feathered helm of the Dragon embellishing their heads.
“My fellow Dragons please bestow his pride a proper welcome!” Arestinius shouted and disappeared in his hut.
The four earthly giants droped their weapons and start walking around our still warrior ,like wolfes surrounding a sheep
The silence that suddenly creeped in the camp have made Ramanli ‘s senses awaken from their deep slumber and remind him the first time as a child that fought a poisonous snake just outside pin-pin with a stick as his only weapon.
For a few minutes the shape of the warriors casted an unwelcoming shadow on Ramanli as they were circumstribing him,in breaths distance.
“ Arestinius should be mad….too much rum in his room lately”
“Yey I agree , rum and rotten wine”
“Look at him , just look at him”
“ You mean …bend and look at him”
“Im pretty sure he thinks a sword is for cleaning your teeth after a roasted chicken”
“Pretty sure brother , pretty sure …although this one is too skiny , can he even raise a sword?”
“Skiny and so …. aery like .. hey you know the tales with the ugly Vanaheim witches north in the woods past Eiglophians?”
“Sure mate , I even saw once one in the flesh and I can assure you this one is even uglier than those”
At first Ramanli was struggling to locate the mouth that was speaking the insults but soon he gave up.
His vision became blurry , his fists closed , his mouth trembled ,his teeth angered , and his ears bled by the wordly spears that were violating his mind.
“Hey Arestinius do you think the loyal blacksmith can build a baby Dragon chest for our new warrior to dress in?”
“Sure the order its on its way “ a voice from the hut emerged
“ Where do you think we will assign him if a war surfaces brothers?”
“Oh that’s easy with the women and childlen”
“F****** right with the children playing and keep them at ease”
“Hehe hurray …. he will play war pretty good with the siblings”
“When you enter a bar you eastern sh** do you order milk or that is too strong for you?”
“I ve heard that on the eastern countries they suck the milk straight from the goats breasts”
“Hey warrior…do you like supping a goat?”
“Do you think he skin is…. kind of yellow?”
“Yey like a vomit of rotten cheese”
“Maybe the mighty warrior is sick?”
“I bet he is …with the whores he is always f*****”
“Maybe he has painted himself what he thought the color of war is….lets find out if it comes off”
He was spitted and brushed with a dirty rag but he didn’t move.
“Where did you find this paint warrior,fine craftsmanship I must add, king Conan is interested in decorating his room …you could be useful there”
“Correct as a statue he could”
“He is not moving at all , is he alive ?”
“I wish its not a habbit of yours , is that happing on a battle too, not moving at all?”
“Hey your loving mother is not going to come to the rescue warrior? You hear?”
“His mother is preoccupied in the whorehouse earning his milk I think”
The last sentence hit him like a club from a yeti
His vision cleared, his fists opened, his mouth curved , his teeth emerged, his ears closed to the reality surrounded him.
He jumped to the one outering the word mother from his mouth.He was smashing his head against his face ,transforming the Dragon nose into a bleeding fountain
Soon he was immobilized by the four man and rooted to the ground.
“Throw him out” Arestinius yelled as he was running towards the fighting mass.
Ramanli was casted out of the camp after he received some good welcome beating.
As he stood fighting to earn his balance he turned and saw Arestinius laughing.
“You have some things to consider I perceive.”
“Training starts early on sunrise, don’t be late”
He thought that the night stars would put a burden on his heart.
They didn’t.
Ramanli had one of the most peaceful sleep in years.

Chapter 5 : MATURING
Story 2 : Virtues of a Dragon – b) The three E’s

Arestinius was the first one to come to the camp and last to leave every single day.It was an inspiration witnessing this accomplished Dragon always eager to perform his duty , even though his current assignement was far beyond of reaching his shelves that were populated with awards of bravery and heroism from king Conan himself.
As Ramanli passed by him every day for his “education” he couldn’t believe how his pride look wasn’t stained at all with even a modicum of boredom from his daily routine with some ignorant young souls thirsty of glory and achievement.
“Can I ask you one question?” Ramanli said one afternoon as he was leaving from the camp with bruises decorating his dusty skin.
“If it has one answer yes” Arestinius answered
“Does anyone pass the mother insult part of your welcoming?”
Arestinius loosened the firmness of his face muscles
“Yes at times some do, they don’t react to their mother being verbally molested”
“Then we cast them out of the camp. Noone can become a Dragon if he doesn’t react to his mother being insulted”
After a little pause he added
“You have to had some reference points in your life after all , don’t you?”
As Ramanli turned to leave passing the chulkboard with the diminishing list of names Arestinius asked him back
“I don’t think you have read the small line at the bottom of the board when you entered your name , did you?”
Ramanli actually haven’t notice the microscopic tail of words at the bottom of the board
“The trainees agree to not held responsible the Dragon order for the misfortune that may befall them this month during their education”
Ramanli smiled and said “I actually feel lucky for the current turn of the moon”
The misfortunes though were often visiting the camp and its inhabitants.
The “education” program has taken its name by the three E s the trainees were asked to master and were written at the walls of the infirmary suggesting the reason they were in bed with their ribs broken or their heads crushed.
Endurance, Evade, Execute were the words that haunted their ears as soon as they entered the camp every day, and the tests that were chosen to enforce them , were birthed in an inhuman, sadistic but brilliant mind.
Ramanli s will and body was put to the test at numerous occasion during that month and the icons of his struggle would become permanent subjects in his mental canvas.
The “iron snake pit” was a small square box of iron just 4 feet long on each side.Two enraged vipers were waiting there for the next unfortunate victim.The rules of engagement were pretty simple. Avoid the poisonous flicks of the snakes but not harm them at all ,in a dance that mocked death for 10 minutes.That was the longer 10 minutes of his life and the most suspensed dance he had endured.Other were not as lucky as him with their dance partners.
The “stork” was an outdoor activity that always put smiles on their trainers faces.
They would lead them to a fallen oak trunk that bridged the shores of a 30 feet waterfall whose waters were scuffling with a herd of pointing rocks far below the tree.The trainees had to stand on their one foot atop the trunk staring at the rocks below for about an hour. For sheer encouragement and for the sake of choise, the other foot on the air was tight with an iron sole that would nest 20 pointy ,rusted nails thirsty for a soft skin to spear.Those who couldn’t endure the minutes of standing like the bird itself had an unfortunate meeting of the nails with the bones on their feet that would pretty much end their dream of becoming a Dragon.A soldier that can cannot walk was not a soldier at all. Some due to over confidence met the rocks below.
The “Wall” was a test of endurance. The trainees were given a mace and asked to bring down a wall 1 foot thick without stopping pondering the persistent contruction.The “wall” was pretty stubborn though unlike the wrists of the contestants.The sound of the hits was ordered to be firm and constant, and at the first sing of withering the body that harbored the lazy arm would receive a whipping of courage.Ramanli s arm some nights continued tremblering beside him for hours , so he had to grasp it with his other arm just to ease its confusion.
“Needle in a haystack” tested their execution precision.The trainees were given a weapon of their choise,and had one of their arm strapped to their back.With their free arm they were ordered to strike their opponent who was always straffing behing a living barrier,that of the bodies of two other trainees. Ramanli never understood who was the needle and who was the haystack.
The month passed with a daily surprise for the initiates as if the humble looking camp was trying to impress them.Many fell during the constant workout and Ramanli was determined not to come close to any of them.He could endure the physical torment but he could not spare another lost friend.He was always alone in their few moments of rest and was struggling not to show his sorrow when a misfortune landed on another of his colleagues.
The evening of the last day of their training reached with a welcoming breath from the three young soldiers that were still standing as Arestinius approached them.
They would at least expect a kind word, a smile of approval , a blink of acceptance .
“Take these brooms and rugs and start clearing the camp , especially the blood ….i don’t like blood stains”Arestinius said
“Didn’t you hear me you maggots? Move your as***,do you expect king Conan tomorrow to come to this shithole?”
The night had walked with a fast pace when finally they put the last instruments of their torment away.
Ramanli turned to the black sky and felt like he was the in the center of the world.
He remembered a distich that Laertius used to say
“The sky of the day,the sky of the night
A mirror that reflects my steps, my souls only delight”

Chapter 5 : Maturing
Story 3 : Solem quis dicere falsum audeat

The first light of day found them standing in the middle of the camp waiting for the special quest.They were the three victorious applicants to a different life.
Arestinius was walking back and forth by the gate.It was the first time that Ramanli sensed his anxiety about the presentation of the new Black Dragons to the king.
Memories of the past were traveling with swiftness through Ramanlis mind , his first steps in Pin-Pin, the long afternoon talks with his teacher, the warm meals by his mother hands, the dark training with the lunatic figure, his first disappointments in old Tarantia, the meeting of love and pain, the people he was come close to.
He was deep in thoughts when the horns awaken him.A small squad of pride horses passed through the gate.
It was the first time that his eyes gazed upon the legendary king.He admitted later that his imagination failed him miserably.Before him was a man slightly higher than him , with his face marked by the passing of many autumns.He was wearing a modest blue striped tasset and a white silk shirt with only a mysterious medallion resting by his chest.He had long black hairs with small curls like the infant waves on the Khorotas at an angry day.His eyes although tired probably due to a recent feast emitted awareness and wisdom. By the side of his horse a large shield was reflecting the sun, decorated with a lions head.The king didn’t held any weapon.
The meeting with the king didn’t make him as happy as Kalanthes presence.The old priest was beside the king all times as they had a long talk with Arestinius before addressing the new members of the royal guards.
“Bow before the king” Arestinius said coming close to them
Conan stood in front of them with his wrists at his hips.
“I welcome your labor and accept your ambitions” his deep voice at least restored Ramanlis wounded depiction of the kings figure.
“Hyboria stands in the most critical crossroad of its history”
“The dangers that engulfs the kingdom have bred in herds and we need all the courageous hands we can master”
“You showed great determination and I expect you to continue evolving your abilities”
“Your journey starts now and I can assure you it will not be a walk in a spring garden”
“Rise now Cullhen” the king said and one of his colleagues stood up.
“I bestow you the helm of the Dragon to guide your decisions ….and protect your skull” said the king with a slight smile , making the other Dragons loosen their firm stand.
“Rise now Keltipis” the king said to the other one beside Ramanli
“I bestow you the helm of the Dragon to nest your will ….and reflect the hardest of hits”
Ramanli was facing the ground all this time with small drops of sweat watering the hot sand.He didnt move even when he heard the horses galloping away taking with them his two former colleagues.
“Rise now” Arestinius shouted at him
“The king awaits you in the hut”
“What now I wonder?” Ramanli s thoughts were again veiled by doubt and frustration.
The camp was empty and only a handful of Dragon were standing around the small hut that used to be Arestinius dwelling.
“Your path grows dark with twists and turns.My judgement is not at ease with you still in case you are wondering why the Dragon helmet is not at your head.” the king told Ramanli
“You have many virtues, you are an excellent fighter , your judgement is sharp and quick, you have ambition but also modesty but some distorted spores of your recent past keeps growing in you at this moment we are speaking.You react poor to authority and some times seems you hunt your own agenda.” the king continued looking at Kalanthes.
“Lets pose then a theoretical scenario shall we?”
“Lets assume you are my most beloved advisor, close to brother that is ,always next to my throne feeding me your wise opinions ,which I don’t always follow.A specific merchant guild displeasured in my behavior towards them has hired an assassin squad which has breached the palace defences. I now stand on my knees in the throne room with a dagger at my throat and you are faced with an option from the assasins themselves.Do you stay loyal to me and meet certain doom or you usurpare the throne in favor of their interest?”
Ramanli didn’t wait much for the answer.
“My king you asking me if I will stay loyal to you or to what you represent? My option is clear as I see this situation, your throat is cut, the throne is mine, the merchant guild hunted and exterminated, your wrong choices restored.”
Conan clearly didn’t expect that answer and a silent tension build up at the humble hut.
Kalanthes didn’t seem to be of guard in constrast with Arestinius who if possible would rip Ramanli s tongue off.
Before the tension transformed to aggressiveness Ramanli spoke
“Can I indulge you my king in a story of my own?” he said that with no pleading tone
“You may” Conan answered cautiously
“My old teacher Gun Hai told me once a story about a wise but over-confident farmer who had lands that could fill your eyesight and even beyond.He cultivated crops, vegetables and small trees and his harvest was constantly the talk of the neighbouring town.One morning he decided to plant two bamboo roots besides his house for decorative purposes.He didn’t have any prior experience to these exotic plants so he was kind of shocked as he saw the first year passed with no growing of the trees. He continued to care for them with the best manure and often watering but the years passed with no change.One winter morning of the fourth year angry and dismayed he started cursing the sun that he was dropping too weak its caress on his not thriving bamboos. The sun then furious at the farmers curses asked him if he wanted his rays to strengthen and the farmer answered affirmatively. The heat then of the angry sun became so strong that the crops on the fields caught fire and threaten to burn the farmers house and family which were spared at the final moment.He lost his harvest that year but he learned his lesson well.On the fifth year the bamboos finally growth as they were supposed to be.”
“My king everything atop this world has two or more aspects….the clouds, the animals , the wind, the trees,the sun and ofcourse us people..You cannot blame them for their properties only you need to acknowledged them as im sure you have acknowledged mine “
The king s silence took a more friendly shape.He noded to Arestinius who brought Ramanli a cloak folded in half.
Conan stood up and as he was leaving he told Ramanli
“This is the Dragon cloak , wear it among friends but hide it in enemy lands.This cloak marks your offering to the service of the Throne.”
“I wish the growing dangers of Stygia weights more on your soul than my own mistakes at ruling this kingdom. I ll meet you again young warrior, hopefully not in opposite riverbanks”

Chapter 6 : The road is the beginning – The road is the end

It was a sunny day when Ramanli saw the light of life on the road at the borders of Khitai.It was a sunny day when the road once again sprawled in front of him , waving him like a lustful female.He was holding at his hands a piece of paper that Kalanthes provided him.
“The dark malice from Stygia spreads like an infection.I ll have to move to Kheshatta hopefully undetected to organize the resistance. I ll meet you there if your heart desires to help. But this is no endeavor for a lonely soul. At this paper you can find settlements where other brave fighter work undercover for the service of the Throne. Meet with them , befriend them for the good of the movement. My thoughts and prayers will be with you my eastern friend” That were Kalanthes last words to Ramanli the evening before.
Ramanli turned to see the fading gates of Old Tarantia ….he then became a dot on the horizon with the Dragon cloak dancing at his back.

The End ( or maybe the beginning )

Supplement
-The greed of Aelroth and Denmoth continued to made enemies.They were ambushed one day in Cimmeria and never did a bounty hunting again.
-Lucinda s father passed away one year after his daughter demise.He split his huge estates to his workers.Some of them continue to sold fruits and vegetables at the bench in Old Tarantia. They kept naming it Lucinda s bench
-The arena master continue to organize the event in old Tarantia but soon the quality of the participants fell miserably.He died of high fever in the age of 60.His son took over the arena fights.
-Laertius kept living under the same tree for winters and summers to come.His distichs were heard all over the capital and his board game brought him the coppers he needed for his humble living. One evening a furious merchant that kept loosing at the Battle Circle took a knife and claimed Laertius life.At his funeral there were only two people present. Ramanli learned of the event 5 months later when he was back to the capital . At his grave he offered his old friend a distich of his own :

Another flower in another grave will keep me deep in sorrow
Laertius your hearty smile can for a moment borrow?

Ramanli slaughtered the merchant that killed Laertius a few weeks later

-Arestinius continue for a while to train recruits for the Dragons but when the occasion risen he moved to Kheshatta for the final assault on Thoth Amon s stronghold.He then met with Ramanli again.This time Ramanli was greeted like an equal.

-After the incident with Thoth Amon Ramanli stayed for a while in Aquilonia but quickly became home-sick. He bid farewell to all of his friends and roamed the roads again. He bought a house in Pin-Pin , got married and had two children. There was a rumor that he had taken part in the fall of the former corrupted emperor but that is a different and maybe not so accurate story.
He died peacefully at the age of 78.His grave was next to his mother and old teacher graves.
8th October 2013, 13:57
sardanapal

*Next sections are guild and friends related*

Chapter 7 : Riverfall
Story 1 : Tulips and blood

Ramanli was on the road for two full moons now.He had passen through various settlements with hopes of befriending warriors and making a new family of hope and struggle.Things though didnt actually flowed in the river of trust and quickly he met one dissapointment after the other.
Kalanthes letter was ofcource a valuable asset at his grip but that wasnt enough to grand him a friendly entrance through the growing distrust of these days that was blossoming like a venomous plant and enveloping villages , settlements , chiefs and commoners.
His horse eventually brought his shadow in front of his fifth chance.The settlement in front of him was called Riverfall and housed the guild that was called Blood Dawn.He remembered vaquely seeing some members of the guild in the market street of Old Tarantia although he hadnt exchange words or looks at the time.The history of this guild was again unknown to him spare for some rumors of them harboring secrets of high artistry in armorsmithing, weapon forging and building techniques.
The palisades of the settlement stood proud atop the fertile grounds of Poitain like a wall of thick forest , uniting the streams of two rivers that were travelling eastwards and westwards from a mass of rocks that was reposing the entire city like a huge pillow.Behind the front walls he could see thin columns of smoke travelling through the sky and playing with the wind.
"Destruction through construction?,that would be...interesting" Ramanli thought to himself and started aproaching the front gate.
Just 15 feets from the entrance Ramanli would have his first peculiar acquaintance.
A tall barbarian in leather armor and horned helmet with two huge blades by his side , was watering some tulips in a small self-made garden protected by the shadow of the walls.
"Can i have some water for my tormented lips ? " Ramanli asked the strange man
The barbarian tossed him his flask saying
"Spare some for my flowers if you please"
The barbarian for an unknown reason stood up in a defensive posture and started walking with a hobble towards Ramanli reaching his hand and taking his flask after two or three sips.
"What kind wind brought you here friend ?" asked the barbarian with his eyes just wandering through Ramanli and into the surroundings.
Ramanli wasnt sure if he could trust the stranger in front of him and while he tried to invent a logical destraction he was saved in a speaking by a flying arrow landing at the hind quarters of his horse making him drop down.
The barbarian confused by the role of the warrior in front of him, was ready to strike but as Ramanli turned around he saw his black dragon cloak at his back and he grabbed him with one hand tossing him behind a fallen log following Ramanli with great agility.He then put out a horn and signalled the quards in the walls of the imminent danger of probably another band of raiders.
"Ramanli is my name by the way" Four arrows passed above his head.
"Pleased to meet you , my name is Koning" More arrows fly through some of them ending in his little garden.
"AAhhhh curses ....my plants ..not my plants "
The guards at the walls started counter firing at the group of a dozen at least horsemen galloping towards them
"Are you ready Ramanli for a welcoming gift?" said the barbarian now holding and swinging his two blades like toothpiks
"Ehhh how about your mobility ?" said Ramanli pointing to his apparent weak leg
"Oh that is a kiss from a wild boar...it kinds of remember me during the rainy days"
He said and jumped of the log throwing one blade directly to the throat of an approaching horseman.The blade met the man throat throwing him 3 feet behind his horse.
"Fu**ing awesome crafters" thought Ramanli and followed Koning with a unholy cry.
They were jumping from cover to cover behind trees and bushes , evading the arrows and flying spears.
For time to time they jumped on the raiders that passed unaware besides them , their swords singing the song of death , carrying away man and horses together.The barbarian in a frenzy state was slashing , knockbacking , rolling and executing with the calmeness of the sunset.
Finally with the help of the guards in the walls the raiders were pushed back.
"Are your lips still thirsty?" Koning asked as he was gathering his blades of the dead bodies
"For beer now i must say " Ramanli answered
"Welcome to Riverfall then....we have beer too" Koning said and they started to walk towards the town.
"Oh and can i ask a favor ?" Koning turned to Ramanli
"Sure anything"Ramanli answered
"The garden thing....can it stay among us?"

Chapter 7 : Riverfall
Story 2: Dreams of Anquish

Ramanli woke in a dark corridor , a corridor orphan of walls and roof.
Right and left of him the darkness choked his view of anything solid.
Weird flying insects kept flying over his head,though he couldn’t trace their existence or their shape.Their strange whir kept forming the word Walk in his ears although that could be his impression only.
Ramanli walked as he was instigated by the strange flying creatures.His walk quickly became a run, but he couldn’t felt moving at all .
Time , space and movement were blend together in a deep slumber of ignorance to his ever growing anxiety.
He couldn’t remember how he reached the big room at the end of the long corridor.The darkness was still there awake and hostile.He felt the presence of it daring to attack him if it could.
At the center of the room a large pillow was the only comforting sight he had for a while.He decided to rest on it as his limbs growed a strange fatique.
He was battling to keep his eyes open ,ironically to stare at the darkness.He felt asleep.

Ramanli woke by a sharp pain on his forehead.Before him was a strange abomination ruling the dark room.
It had the lookings of a woman but the gaze of a male Pict.From the head of the beast that was covered with poor mop of hair , two horns were emerging forming a black arc.Its body was covered with feathers that seemed to be glued on it with blood.It had three pairs of arms emerging by its abdomen and two fat goat-like legs. Behind it , Ramanli could vaquely spot three graves.

He tried to move,but his limbs were not listening to his orders.

“Who are you what do you want of me?” he said in a desperate tone

The voice of the beast had an assuring warmth to it.

“Neither the moon or the sun know the weavings of the Gods
Neither the wolf or the lamb know the decision of their fates
Neither the water or the land could conquer the same square
Neither the male or the female are so happy with their tastes
But the human, oh the human it’s a tale of its own
Blasphemous of all the living , its ambition and its sin
Myriad its choices choked in the dyne of its faults
Ahh a honoured human is a human buried deep within”

The beast said that and pointed to the graves behind it.

From the first grave surfaced Ramanlis mother holding some rotten flowers looking at her son with strange sympathy.She looked aged,un attended and tired.
From the second grave surfaced Gun-Hai Ramanlis first teacher and guide in thought.He reached to him holding a torned book covered by worms and little snakes.He send Ramanli a biter smile from his humble and obviously disappointed figure.
From the third grave surfaced the mysterious figure that haunted Ramanlis presence the past years and he was killed by its former student.He reached his hand holding the blade that should be lying somewhere in the deep depths of Thunder River.He send Ramanli a cold look but he was looking strong and agile.
The beast turned its attention on Ramanli and walked aggressively to him opening its mouth and revealing a pond of blood in which human limbs were floating aplenty.
“Choose Mortal , choose your poison , my patience runs thin with you”
Ramanli woke up covered in thick sweat.He was at his temporary loggings in Riverfall. Outside the sun was struggling to climb the east mountain slopes.
These nightmares were visiting him quite often the last months.
He poured some water at his face.Today was the day that the leaders of the Dawns were returning from their last journey.
He was eager to meet them.

Chapter 7 : Riverfall
Story 3 : Greetings and salutations

Ramanli was strolling alongside with Koning getting aquainted with the corners and buildings of the settlement.He was positively surprised by the quality of the architecture and materials used to erect the buildings and structures of the town.The smithy was a buzzling point of interest with people gathered there to admire the weapons and armor produced there in a daily basis.
"You look tired , bad night?" asked Koning
"Some silly nightmares , thats all Koning" answered Ramanli
"You should then talk with Monrath when he is here , he has studied the signs of the mind and the wishes of the gods all his life,he should help you.Come now let me meet you to our head armorsmith" Koning waved and lost in the depth of the smithy.
Ramanli walked with caution among the benches and the numerous tools hanging from the roof , ending in a poor lighted large room thats was governed by a dark tall figure endelesly moving between the workplaces and furnaces giving orders, shouting, correcting and cursing at the same time.
"This is Atalbert , our stygian master of the metals and rocks,pationed and dedicated to twisting the will of the elements to his use " whispered Koning to Ramanli
Atalbert was seemed to live in his own parallel crafting universe with eyes fixed to the hits of the burning metal and the transformations of the shape by his ravaging imagination.
"More fire you simpletons, more fire for the love of Set " Ramanli looked at Koning surprised
"Hit it harder, harder i say, like your best friend slept with your wife " Koning smiled back
"Cool it off now , feel the water eating away his energy and master its will" Ramanli smiled back
"Atalbert , Atalbert have you a minute to spare " yelled Koning
"A minute! A minute! A tiny fraction of eternity for you Cimmerian mate ! What is your will " answered Atalbert without even taking his attention of the hammers torturing the steel
"Come to meet a worthy new companion in our midst" answered Koning
Atalbert moved to them and send a look of pitty to Ramanlis old and worn armor pieces
"Greetings to you and welcome to the Dawn of Blood " said Atalbert hitting his fist against his chest.
"Glad to join your effort " said Ramanli noticing Atalbert scholastic gaze at his tasset,helmet and gauntlents
"Sorry mate to say this but your Armor is weathering away, and one thing i respect in the man is his armor blossoming....are these pieces left over from the cataclysmic ages?" Atalbert asked
"Haha nice one master Atalbert " Koning laughed for a second but stopped as he saw Ramanli frowned obviously annoyed
“Well it served me well in difficult times and im kind attached to it” noted Ramanli
“Lets see ....” Atalbert took a deep breath and looked on some papers at his hands
“I have a large order by some nobles in Old Tarantia to make armor for their spoiled brats that wanna become fearsome warriors ,but i ll manage to fit you in somewhere ..come to me in two days time, i will have something for you to ....get attached to. Now off you go i have work to do and wonders to perform”
They distanced themselves quickly hearing Atalbert return to his restless state.
As they were approaching the western gates they saw lots of kids as well as adults circling three large wagons that were moving slowly burdened by the weight of their cargo.
Amongst the cheering crowd a tall oversized middle aged chap with broad shoulders and a long fur cloak was playing with the children surounding his wagons.
“Master Gator tell us the story with the bear please” the children were shouting
“Again? Havent you been bored of this old story of my BIG..BLOODY...TRIUMPH –he said that bending his body to the height of the children emphasizing every syllabe- of the dark brown abomination of the forests of the north?” and he burst into laughs
Koning waved Ramanli to follow him and run to the crowd.
“Gator my brother long time no see” said and huged him hitting his fists against his back
“Yey Koning two months mate .....two months in the company of stone and wood .....you better have stored cool Nemedian ale for me to bathe on i say”
“Hehe hold yer horses thirsty barbarian ...didn't i say to you before you leave not to exterminate all the cimmerian deers?” Koning said that petting Gator lax belly
“Well my bow was complaining every day,what should i do? you know how i feel about my bow....and i had these spices given to me by Darkfoot.....hmmmm the deers kept me warm company they did...poor things” Gator answered back with an innocent look
“Ohh i m terrible sorry , let me meet you Ramanli a soul eager to help our cause” Koning steped away
Gator looked Ramanli deep into his eyes
“You have blood written all over you friend....killer no doubt about that, skilled and deadly killer , and i hope a virtuous one”
“Killing have been a big part of my short life Gator you are correct, is that a good thing to build your expectations of me?” Ramanli answered
Gator smilled and turn his head around in a cautious way
“I ve missed killing myself too...and im not talking about deers obviously”
“We been kinda of led astray last few months ....” Koning added with the same cautiousness
“Enough talk im off to the tavern and then to melaidy for a welcoming touch....a quick one!” Gator laughed atloud “If she still remembers me that is”
“Coming lads?” added on
“Bollocks Gator , Shaidarharan messaged all of us to be present for the alliance meeting today in the council hall, they will be here any moment” Koning said
“Well you know the drill...make an excuse for me” Gator said and continued his road with the children dancing by his feet.
They reached the entrance of the meeting hall an astounding building at the center of the settlement. The company they waited was soon to arrive.
Ramanli remembered vividly their first meeting.
They galloped like storm through the front gate , ten to fifteen riders spreading a strange silence to their passing.
He was dressed in a bright red chiton with gold stripes extending from neck to feet, a silver talisman was hanging by his left hand, dancing with the sun rays, and his right hand was holding a staff that was contructed by two wooden snakes facing eachother in a aggresive manner. He had one eye, like Ramanli s mother had ,but this orphan eye was more than enough to reflect rigor and respect. His name was Shaidarharan.
Next to him, equal in presence but different in his aura a silent figure with a dark but strangely warm gaze, and posture that seem to balance between the material and the spirit world made his appearance.He wore a strange bone medallion and was heavily dressed in thick fur harness covering his entire skin. His name was Monrath.
They took their positions on the council hall. The quests seats were filled by the representatives of another settlements friendly to Blood Dawn.
Brunlollita a dark red haired warrior representing the Clan of the Free City
Ballyfreya a sturdy man-shaped amazon send by the Black Wolves
“Where the f*** are all the men ?” thought Ramanli to himself
Satyrica a cunning manipulator of illusions and the dead arts from the
“Oh common this is getting ridiculous” Ramanli was amazed
Liliana a witty roque whose daggers were now physical extensions of her hands send by The Hand of Ibis
“You have to be kidding me” he started to get dizzy
Achylleas a tall guy with a polearm even higher than him,from Warbound
“Thank god” Ramanli breathed with relief.
A tedious tension was lurking through the hall
Shaidarharan waved to his officers to stand besides him.
Atalbert , that he had already met.
Dignity a priest in the service of Mitra.
Koning his most familiar face around
“Where is Gator?” Shaidarharan asked looking around
“He is a preoccupied with ....ehhhh...the resources he brought from the mountains” Koning was swift to find an excuse
Ramanli left alone, feeling stranger and naked , a feeling made more intense by the gaze of Shaidarharan locking on him
“I would appreciate the newcomers to spare us some privacy” Shaidarharan spoke with a cold tone.
Koning nod from afar and Ramanli exit the building.
The sun had started to bend tired and Ramanli decided to take a stroll alongside the walls.As he was walking he spotted a scout atop the wall staring at the horizon and the lands in front. He saw him riding with the team earlier and was curious to know his whereabouts.
“Greetings scout” shouted from the bottom of the wall
“Greetings to you too” he didnt move an inch, his eyes fixed in front of him.
“You are all of the time up there?” Ramanli asked but to no answer
“Do you need anything to drink or eat maybe?” Ramanli persisted
“Im all good here , have mine bow, have mine arrows , have the breeze to keep me company , have the silence to keep me focused...well up to now!” the strange scout turned his head for the first time.
“As you please...got the message stranger” Ramanli turned to walk away
“Im not called stranger ....im called Swiftbolt” the scout locked his eyesight in front of him again
The meeting was long and lively, judging from the shouts that reached the door in front of the meeting hall.
Ramanli was tired...he decided to reach the tavern hoping to meet with Gator..and some Nemedian ale.
8th October 2013, 14:02
sardanapal

Chapter 8 : Battle of the Black
Story 1 : A Stone Tear

Ramanli woke up startled ...the hour has passed judging by the shadows growing in his small hut and he was really anxious to find out what was decided in the chiefs meeting.
Ramanli soon found Koning armed to the nose atop his horse
"Are we going somewhere? " Ramanli asked
"You are going first to master Atalbert , he has something for you ...post-cataclysmic i think" Koning said and laughed atloud
"Meet me at the east gate , the others are getting restless"
Atalbert was once again brilliant in his crafting
"I give you your second skin warrior, breath,eat,sing and die with it"
"Arent you coming to the fun?" Ramanli asked
"There is time and space for everybody in this circle of events my friend..." Atalbert said and disappeared in his shop again
He found Koning waiting for him a few meters away from the east gate , as they moved onwards Ramanli spotted a rock which surface has been bled by some strange writings:

*
Περὶ τὰ οἰκεῖα ἀλγῶ
ὡς γὰρ ἐπεκλώσαντο θεοὶ δειλοῖσι βροτοῖσι
ζώειν ἀχνυμένοις· αὐτοὶ δέ τ᾽ ἀκηδέες εἰσί.

μὴ δέ τί τοι θάνατος μελέτω φρεσὶ μηδέ τι τάρβος·
νῦν αὖτέ με μοῖρα κιχάνει.
μὴ μὰν ἀσπουδί γε καὶ ἀκλειῶς ἀπολοίμην,
ἀλλὰ μέγα ῥέξας τι καὶ ἐσσομένοισι πυθέσθαι

ὡς δ᾽ ἀναμαιμάει βαθέ᾽ ἄγκεα θεσπιδαὲς πῦρ
οὔρεος ἀζαλέοιο, βαθεῖα δὲ καίεται ὕλη,
πάντῃ τε κλονέων ἄνεμος φλόγα εἰλυφάζει,
ὣς ὅ γε πάντῃ θῦνε σὺν ἔγχεϊ δαίμονι ἶσος
κτεινομένους ἐφέπων· ῥέε δ᾽ αἵματι γαῖα μέλαινα.

For my own dealings i wail
i reap the gifts that gods passes to the mortals
to live in pain alone and without mourning to die
but im not afraid of dying,what more can find me here

but i will not fall without a battle
i will not fall without glory
my deeds will be at least remembered, if not i , by those that
waiting to be birthed

like in a sunburnt mountain ,grave fire roam
and in the deep burrows the matter burst in anguish
and the wind here and there , the flame spins around
i froth with my spear like a small god
here and there murdering and drowning the earth in blood

Arabth

"What is the meaning of this?" asked Ramanli
"Well its a carving of a restless spirit, sad words of sad circumstances" Koning lowered his eyes
"A warrior , with a flame similar to yours in his face , and moves like yours in his hands had stayed with us for awhile.He was very fond of the ancient Corinthian scriptures and philoshophy. He was also seen his entire family slaughtered by the Black Hands. Wife, son and female infant.He now roams the land and craves for vengeance,that is his poem all about."
"Black hands ... are they ???"
"Yes the puppets of the Dark Master have surfaced from their shitty holes ,the first attacks have been made months ago, and the aggresiveness grows with each passing morning."
"The alliance is planning a attack on one of their strongholds in Kheshatta.We have been given permission to attend" Koning concluded.
As they walked away from the rock Ramanli turned his face and saw the carvings covered by the moving shadows of the trees
"Is there a chance i meet this guy?"
"I wage my garden ...he will be there " Koning answered
At the east gate at least a dozen Dawns where facing the sunset
"Common Koning...you know i dont like galloping in the dark" Gator smiled
The Dawns lifted their right arm with the fist closed, facing the meeting hall in the distance
Ramanli lifted his fist with a slight hesitation
"FOR BLOOD AND HONOUR !! " the holler filled the evening sky
From the distance the answer came strong
"FOR BLOOD AND HONOUR !!" Shaidarharan , Monrath and the residents of the settlement all had lifted their right arm.
The team vanished in the forest trail.
The road to the Black Ring Citadel was long.

*Homers 'Iliad'

Chapter 8 : Battle of the Blacks
Story 2 : The closing of the hours

The eager group of vengeance , glory and naivety moved forward in a thunders pace.
The fighters from Blood Dawn met with their allies in the borders of Aquilonia and Argos and continued to pursue the road south
to the sandy beaches of Shem on their way to Khemi.There they hoped to get in contact with kalanthes who was leading
the resistance infrastructure in Stygia.
Ramanli had the change to talk and get aquainted and discuss with many members of the alliance about the future dangers or the past deeds.

The images on his day life on that long trip would nourish his memory and imagination for years to come.
Ramanli loved to see the two barbarians from Blood Dawn Koning and Gator,every morning before the sun woke up ,
to practice their moves and techniques on each other although some times their battle cries would wake up other guys and would receive a swearing or two
There where times of danger like a big ambush they had on the borders of Shem by a large group of bandits.In that fight Ramanli witnessed the
magnificence of the followers of mitra and the so called bear shamans of the north that could keep alive with their incantantions and chants even a snail fighting
He loved the discussions around the fire on the small night hours that struggled to hide everyones anxiety about the future dangers they would encounter.Ramanli kept silent
though most of the time....but then silence was one of his favorite habbits.
One day he was invited by a guardian that was in their company to follow him on a hunt for food to a nearby forest.
Ramanli decide to follow him.
"My name is Wengyr and i like hunting bears haha" said the guardian while they were walking deep into the forest
"All alone you mean? Without the company of a trapper or a scout?" Ramanli wondered
"Well its my favorite exercise to endure with the company of another soldier" Wengyr answered
"You see dear Templar the beasts are less inteligent from the people ...they keep attacking the one they perceive as the greatest threat"
"So ...in other words i would like to see your ehmmm threat potential" concluded Wengyr laughing
"Aha .... a test of strenght and aggresion ....i accept" said Ramanli in a heartbeat
They were moving as silent they could....well that was after all not so easy in their heavy armor and shield.
Finally they spotted their evening dinner. A large male brown bear was lazily enjoying the shadow of a great oak tree.
"Good luck Templar" Wengyr poked his companion
"I was borned lucky " smiled Ramanli....he knowed that was a lie
They charged like frenzied dogs on their target.The bear quickly stood on his two legs reaching 7 feet high.
Wengyr released a cry that Ramanli havent heard in the past. The cry was so loud the Ramanli had the impression that it moved the branches of the near trees.
The beast turned its attention to Wengyr hitting furiously his shield and trying to find an opening on his defences to taste his skin.
Ramanli swiftly moved to the back side of the bear and tried to hit it with guick moves as to cause it the more pain he could.
The bear though continued to lock its anger on Wengyr who was trying to evade with dancing moves the beasts massive hands
"I can use some help...like now dear Templar" yelled Wengyr
"Im f***ing trying" answered Ramanli obviously more anxious to take the beast attention than feared of the beating he might endure
Suddenly with one swift strike the bears hand landed on Wengyrs chest knockbacking him 3 meters away.
Ramanli then seeing the eminent danger with a leap climbed on the bears back and buried his sword on the beasts shoulder , the sight of the blood
jumping like a playful child, empowered the Templars courage and let his throat produce a sadistic cry that would make even Mitra heart bleed.
The bear in a painful roar threw Ramanli against the oaks trunk and turned his anger on him
"F*** Set,Mitra and Crom together....now what?" Ramanli shouted as he tried to stand on his trembling feets
" Now you have him haha" laughed Wengyr
"You are more crazy than all the Yuns together" Ramanli laughed back
The bear charged on the Templar but with obviously less strength. The two soldiers with more ease now landed their strikes and soon the beast lied dead on the fertile floor.
"That was...intense" said Wengyr looking at Ramanli trying to catch his breath
"You need some improvement of course ..but you have potential there " concluded
"Right...can i ask you something ? "
"What ?"
"How the f*** are going to carry this giant back to the camp?" Ramanli asked
The alliance force was a mere 3 days away from Khemi and anyone could understand that tension was rising among the ranks.The only ones always laughing and teasing everybody
was Brunlollita and Ballyfreya.The two women were always in close company together and always were trying to share a witty joke or ease the concerns and fears of the group
Ramanli had saw them on battle and respected them much as he was sure that when the chance arose they would show their true potential now hidden on purpose behind a charming feminine curtain
One night the Templar lost his grip and tasted more ale that could handle.Drunk and dissorianted he tried to return to his tent but it is strange
how the tents can look alike in a drunk mind especially on pitch black.
Ramanli entered the wrong tent.
In front of him Brunlollita and Ballyfreya were naked lying side by side kissing and fondling eachother. Their long hair uncaged by their usually worn helmets
were embracing them like lustfull vines and their breasts were meeting in a delegacy rendezvous. Their hands were reaching for theirs humid treasures in the caves
among their thighes.Their lips were struggling to climb eachother and their tongues were moving schemes of affection and desire.
Ramanli wore a tight tasset.Suddenly it become more tight.
The two women spotted the intrusion but were not startled.They smiled to him and waved for him to accompany them.
"Sorry ..ehhh im a man-to-man deal....ehh sorry i mean one-on-one deal....**** im drunk i mean man-to-woman something ..you get the picture" and exit embarrased the tent.
The next morning the group was ready for their final march on Khemi.The city was few hours away.
Ballyfreya moved with her horse to Ramanli
"Hail Ramanli ,i was said you was pretty drunk yesterday night ...all good now?"
Ramanli smiled back
"I had a very good sleep...especially after that thing in the tent...."
"What tent?" Ballyfreya answered in surprise
"Ehh...i mean me in your tent? Yesterday?"
"Oh Ramanli you must have been very drunk last night ....i havent see you since yesterday morning naughty Templar" Ballyfreya closed her eye and galloped away.
Ramanli stood for a moment.
"No i was in their tents yesterday......was i not?"

Chapter 8: Battle of the Blacks
Story 3: Orphaned Questions

His tired steps brought him in an cavein of a huge rock , whose surface was tormented from the merciless sun of Stygia.
Behind his sparkling armor at a distance the Citadel of sin and home to the potential usurper of the peace in Hyboria , stood intimidating,cold and arrogant.Above its massive towers clouds , thunders , and air tornadoes danced emiting a murmur of death and decay.
'We meet again eastern warrior, here where all eyes are met' Kalanthes gave away a weak smile
'And i m content that i find you healthy and eager.I had hoped the years that passed have been.....educating for you' he added swiftly
Ramanli started to outer a word but his mouth refused to obey.
'Please,please dear warrior ,let your heart address me freely.....and your thought doubt me as well' Kalanthes said with a reassuring tone.
'I think of her every single night, healer , the pain just resurects like a phoenix from the ashes of my memories....can you heal that as well?' Ramanli again felt a light breeze of electric stream climbing his spine , like Lucindas arms were all over him again
'Well the proper question should be do you want to be healed? ' Kalanthes stared at him
'You have the bad habbit of answering a question with an evading new question....you are aware of that at least?' Ramanli answered a little annoyed
'Is there a definite answer to any question in the world?' Kalanthes continued to stare him
'Well ....let me think....is the sun always waking with us in the morning...yes or no? ' the warrior pretended to dwell upon some serious thinking
'Are you so sure that the sun will continue to do so , in an aion or in a 100 aions after our deaths?' Kalanthes respond seemed ready even before Ramanlis sarcasm.
'You seriously believe that there is no truth,no answer no banner at all to organize our army of thoughts , desires and intentions?'
'Well there is one thing that strive our will and behaviour and it has nothing to do with truth, questions or answers. It is called purpose and it is up to every being to dress it with the warm colors of chivalry or the rude colors of aggresiveness.'
Ramanli stood troubled and silent.
'Why are you here warrior? Why are all those people here? ' Kalanthes pointed to the mass of bodies and steel that was gathering on the outskirts of the citadel
'Everyone has a purpose , for some its a lifetime achievement , for others its just a predecessor of another scheme that will surface with a new full moon.'
'Purpose is what keeps our will moving , purpose is what breeds questions , and purpose is what finally will provide you with an answer you so desperately need,but alas with an answer that will only suit you and just you.'
'There is more to you obviously then meets the eye' Ramanli tried in a dazzled way to turn the conversation to least complex twists
'Yes there is ' Kalanthes once again answered swiftly
'But neither you or the majority of you are ready to engulf im afraid'
Ramanli took a deep breath and turned his attention to the Citadel
'Can we beat this?'
'Well we will find out soon , shall we not?' kalanthes answered with a more generous smile
'Typical , a question for an answer again' Ramanli smiled back and started to descent the hill
'Oh and dear warrior....'
' Lucinda will be watching .....make her proud' Kalanthes concluded.
The first catapults were already at the first houses of Kheshatta pointing their arsenal towards the blasphemous walls of the Citadel.

Chapter 8 Battle of the Blacks
Story 4 : Blood Poems

The Eastern slopes a grassy hug
for beings of nature both gentle and disturbed
the sun in its glory a warmly thug
a lover of the living and envy of the dead

The grasp of your reach so firm and so cold
a guide for the weak a fist for the strong
the sins of your will no sight to behold
the tricks of your mind a countryside long

The young and the old still hungers the same
in teachings of rightness that make the orbs shame
love and compation are toys so lame
a rotten excusse for others to blame

The Soul in its birth knows no verbal bonds
no tutors no teachings no crossroads no frown
The Soul in its growning thirst and fonds
to blatanly envelope the world on its own

Rise and be the tip of the spears
tearing apart humbleness or pride
The Soul in its dying one thing fears
to have lived in a grave,and in a grave to hide

In the bloody lands our fate is caged
draw your arms,taunt your will,pity the living
witness how brutally your life is staged
and in the dawn of your path, embrace the killing

These almost forgotten words of his previous wicked benefactor were his first companions
as his sword shatter the chests of the first residents of the citadel that rushed to form the first line of defense
Ramanli with a party of warriors,mages and healers was assigned to storm the eastern wing of the citadel.
The rumors of unspoken abominations that dwelled there has fed his blood lust and his...despair.
8th October 2013, 14:14
sardanapal

Chapter 8:Battle of the Blacks
Story 5 : The Eastern Wing

Caves dark as blindess and corridors cold as a warriors last breath.
Walls emitting gloom and twisted corners harboring manipulations of a devious mind.
The mass of the scared adventurers were forwarding with an ants pace.
Thoth Amon was generous in giving them a strong resistance of semi-giants whose force was nothing the Templar had met before.
Contructions of Stone were among the first enemies the rebels danced with.
The sound of the swords clushed against their unearthly skin was enough to scare half Hyboria away.
They were pretty much undestroyable by physical force, as the Templar soon found out after several attempts of his sword at their supposed pulsing carotids.
And their hits ...by Crom their hits brought a stop to their breaths with each landing.
Their armor was suffering like a newborn child separated from its mothers breast.
The shamans and tempests were trying hard to keep them alive with chants of courage while the muscled soldiers were trying to dodge,endure,fight back.
Casualties were inevitable and horrid. The stone apparitions could easily torn away a head , arm or leg like a bunch of grapes torned away from a vineyard.
Desperation soon visited and covered them all in cold sweat.The stone apparitions seemed unkillable.
The soldiers were ordered to make an organised push with the help of some mages that would try to spread havoc and confusion by summoning tornadoes and illusions of terrors from hell itself.
They finally entered a wide hall with orange-painted walls depicting scenes of dark offerings to Thoth Amon by the stone army.
"By the force of stone and earth i welcome thee to my humble laboratory" a voice hard as a rock met them from their backs.
The stone apparitions suddenly ceased their aggresiveness as the rebels turned back to face what else was they stumbled across in this torturing pit.
It was a man dressed in mud-colored robes firmed and tall standing in front of a so called throne out of granite.
His right hand harbored a small dagger with inappropriate dimensions compared to him.
"I see my sons give you a hard time " he yelled mocking them.
"Let us bring an end to his sperm then " an angry soldier shouted and charged in front.
"No stop!!!!!!!!!!!!" some friends of him shouted back , others kept silent partly due to fear ,partly from interest to witness what will unfold.
"Come to Excorant infidel ....and embrace the all mighty stone form!!!!!!!!" said the man and his pupils transformed to two big melanite gems
The soldier jumped and was halted mid-air by a invisible force.He droped to the ground with the sound of rock not flesh.
"Now we are seriously screwed" a mage next to Ramanli noted ready to burst in tears.
The rebels slowly walked in the center of the room standing close together with shaking swords,staffs,shields and legs.
Excorant stood silent before his throne casting his black gaze to each one of them ..or at least that was their impression.
A silence crept in the room , a silence send by Al'Kiir himself to welcome them in pain and death.
"Keep clear of his eyes when they transform mates!!" a voice filled them with a bit of courage.
The force quickly split in half with some of them were fighting the stone apparitions that once again started to close on them the others attacked Excorant
But things were not going well.The stone father started to stun one by one by his black gaze.A solution was to be found swiftly.
And it came by luck. A fellow soldier took a hit in the chest and landed 6 feet away, his sword fly through the room and ended in a cauldron with a reddish essence.
The cauldron had escaped their attention after all in the hit of battle.
The soldier stood up in pain and rushed to retreive his sword with the stone apparition close by him.
He grasped the sword now covered in this red pulp and made a final stand by ferosiously hitting his enemy everywhere he could land a hit.
And then the stone apparition backed off.In pain.
A pain that was expressed in a deep murmur that shake the ground.
"Quickly mates...rush as hellspawns and dive your swords in the cauldrons " the soldier shouted in ecstasy. Another golem came from behind and shutter his head like butter.
Ramanli and few others rushed to the cauldrons.The fight suddenly took a hopeful spin.
"Noooooooooo, my sons , crush them now , protect the secrets!!!!!" Excorant now lifted his attentions from the soldiers that was closing him and watched
his unearthly sons fell one by one by the enchanted swords.
His turn came swiftly.

Chapter 8 : Battle of the Blacks
Story 6 : Bloody Steps

He opened his eyes...his vision blurred by small rivers of blood travelling peacefully over his face.
He was so tired... so tired that even the thought of moving his chest for a few grasps of air dishearted him.
He tried to move his limbs...the pain woke up with a sharp caress that made him shiver all over.
He closed his eyes..though his vision stayed blurred depicting the moments a mere hour before.
It was an hour .... right?
So confusing moments...they happened for real?
He remembered the statues ...no the word he used sounded like a misleading whore that was dancing eroniously in front of his mind.
He opened his eyes...no sky to behold.
But why the silence suddenly creaped in and enthroned the abscense in these walls?
Where are the others? Are there any others?
He managed to guide his palm in semi-circles...he thought he was casted in a thick swamp of...
That cant be blood?All of this blood?
He tried to rise ...something was reluctant to leave him stand...
Thick strings of a clotted essence grasped firmly his torso with the moisting gorund.
Was he so weak? Was he alive?
He closed his eyes...and forced a breath so violent that surprised him as well.
He is on his feet now ...all of this is blood?
Something glowing near by...its a sword..his sword...his cane as of now.
The silence stood a bit aside ....the sound of his three now legs the only alive testimony.
Where are the others?
The drums in the distance...was he alive?
He didnt dare to cast a look behind him...the thick swamp of blood waved him silently.
The drums in the distance..is this finally starting?
His bloody steps finally reached the eastern wing's exit

It was finally starting.

Chapter 8 : Battle of the Blacks
Story 7: Stairway to…Hell.

He recollects reaching the outer walls of Kheshatta walking between frenzied groups of bodies casting triumphant cries and yielding weapons with pride and arrogance.
He recollects turning his back in the desert behind him only to see swarms of catapults casting its heavy loads against the thick black granite walls of the Stronghold.
He recollects shouting for his friends , looking desperately for known faces drowned in this advancing mass of menace and anger.
He remembers hearing this unearthly sound and witnessing , black clouds dancing around the stronghold, sharing its pain and birthing thunders upon the attackers , thunders that without mercy scattered whole groups to ash and coal.
He remembers the smell , a smell of fear that even caused air itself to backtrack from the Stairway in front of him.
He pictures the Stairway even now years past… a haunting dark climax to an even more haunting company of two metal tall doors in the distance.
The Stairway was not defended, the last groups of Kheshatta guards have been easily eliminated by the first raiding parties.
But..the living flesh was not the issue here apparently…even though the Stairs were now void of enemy swords no one seemed to take the first crucial steps.
Groups of black dragon cloaks were holding their grounds against…well against an unknown threat he supposed , hiding behind the last houses of the city close to the square from which the Stairway looked upon them with disdain.
All were stale …all were silent…all were little children in front of a now angry dark father.
And then something stirred ….the sound of a group of horse claws manage to break through the thunders and the black rain.
It was the king and his guards …and a aura of courage with them for that matter. They galloped through the main road in a breath and dismounted just in front of the Stairway.
The king looked up ….with his back on everyone else and rose his sword pointing to the entrance.
The clouds roared ferociously like the sinister Kheshatta sky was giving birth to all his hatred upon the earth.
The king cried atloud:

The plains of freedom look upon us
The mountains of the gods wait your courage
Let your cloaks dance with the wind
Let your hands drive your rage
For no walls, no abominations can hold this river
To Battle Brothers!!! To Battle!!!
And let Crom’s judgment be gentle upon us this day.

He remembers the King advancing with his guards swiftly followed by the river he mentioned in his speech.
He seized the chance and manage to put his feet in the Stairway leading up.
He recollects the silence inside the Hold. Just a bloody annoying silence.
11th April 2015, 20:58
sardanapal

Chapter 8: Battle of the Blacks
Story 8: The teeth of Thoth.

It was a revelation of his days , rooms so tall and so void of hope and warmth.
Dark figures borned by malice and bred by hatred,spreading the grip of death to the naive attackers of the Hold.
Shields trembling,arms relenting,breaths ceasing.So much death,in so little time.
The groups struggled under primitive leadership to advance in the darker corner of this sun-forsaking place.
He still remembers sitting at the backyard of his house in Pin-Pin, drawing in the sand resting besides his feet, the route that so vividly remember taking
even after so many years.
He still have nightmares about the mage-lord chambers.He recollects staring him,arrogant standing in front of his stone throne.Eyes welcoming the fighters pouring through the front doors only to beinstantly slain ,by unholy fountains of force ,erupting from the corpse-decorated floor.
And then his memory fades.The last minutes blurred partly of the fear
partly of his helmet taking some clangorous hits from the last of the mage-lord guards.
One icon is still relevant.He is sitting dazzled in the floor praying the corpses beside him dont pour their hatred on him,and he raises his eyes.
Few meters ahead ,he remembers the open mouth and the teeth,not the posture,not the eyes but the teeth,open gates to the cry of death,as the mage-lord finally charged from his throne cycloning his stuff through the bodies of the unlucky.

And then the mouth and the teeth and the eyes and the posture comes to a hold.The king finally enters the room.
At this point he always stop his tale to the children of Pin-Pin.He doesnt remember anything else.
He just recollects him waking up at a tent outside Kheshatta with a friendly face on top of him.A face the reminds me of a warm golden beach somewhere in the Barachan isles.

It is still darkness when the door knocks wakes him up.
"You are wanted in Shaulun urgently.An emissary of the king waits there"

He opens the closet that he promised to never unlock.The Amra's pride is still there sleeping besides his blade.
As the dawn breaks he leaves once again Pin-Pin behind him.
He hopes to be back again ....some day.