“Speak not to the majesty directly. Speak to him through me.” Said the voice in the darkness “Do you understand prisoner.” I gave them nod in the direction of the voice. They grab me by my arms and started to march. My feet walked along cold stone. I smell somewhere soup being made.
“Corporal Davben to present the prisoner for his majesty.” The sound of an opening door as they shuffle me through a door. My feet touch a thick carpet. A boot slammed into the back my knee. “Neal before the king.”
“Who are you?” A new voice rich and self-important. “What cat got your tongue?” said the voice as mail fist slammed into my face.
“Answer him.” Liking the new split next to my tusk.
“Spear Hector of the Iron Towers.”
“Tell me Hector a story. Tell me how you arrived at my court.”
“My story may not be of interest to you O king.” This earn me another hit.
“YOU are not worthy to speak to him prisoner!”
“Peace Davben. Let him speak.”
“You may have chained my body, but my will is something you will never capture.”
“My story begun on the road along the salt bone coast. My parents were traveling for the festival to honor the legion when I was born. I know this may seem like an odd start, but I must tell you where I was from to tell you how I got here. My parents were well respected in their stations in life. My father being a captain of the fire eaters banner and my mother being a potter. Life was simple until I was strong enough to enter the militia.
My father gave me to a mentor to guide me along the way. I both hated and loved my mentor, he taught me everything I know and broke me for the legion. The first lesson he made sure I learned was all, but one thing could be taken from you. That weapons, armor, magic and allies may fail you at any point. That a warrior’s will is the only thing they truly own. The second lesson was that a warrior’s strength was their legion and the legion’s strength was its warriors. Where I go the legion goes, where the legion goes, I fallow as it has always been. Lastly, he trained me in the ways of the fist and spell”
“If you were a mage where are your vestment of your order?” said a new voice marked by age.
“The day I start waring a robe and pointy hat is the day every archer will be gunning for my head.”
“And what drove so strongly for your legion? It’s not every day may warriors are stopped by little more than backwards barbarians.”
“Her name is Chloe. All you need to know was that her heart was beauty itself.”
“Oh, how delightful the savage does have a heart even though it’s not his own. But how did you come to that dreadfully hot pass?”
“Oh, that’s simple O king, the legion went, and I fallowed. The legion went because some of us went missing. You have something to do with that.”
“Yes, your people came through with more gold then they know what to do with. So, I helped myself to it. When they objected, I added their heads to my walls.”
“And that is why O king I will kill you.” Raising his now free hands.
“Guards!” Ripping off the blind fold I had just enough time to cast shield when the court mage lashed out with a thunder bolt. I feel the power course through and into me. I took the power and slammed it down into the floor shattering it. The guards were thrown down as I wasted no time running up to the king. The mage stepped in front of me and the king. I shoved the old man aside and went for the king. Punching the king in his fine-featured face I knocked him back into his throne. Pinning him to his chair by his face. I lean by his pointed ear and said.
“Justice in the land of the living Elf.” As I cast shocking grasp. Letting him go I continued my run pass the throne and jumped through the window. As the rainbowed colored shared rained around me I casted teleport and lived to fight another day.
Hector now seek to escape elf lands, reunite with his people and up hold the legion in all of his dealings in the mean time.
This one is an odd build of 6 levels open hand monk and 14 levels war wizard. The thinking being Hector is a living weapon of the legion.
“Speak not to the majesty directly. Speak to him through me.” Said the voice in the darkness “Do you understand prisoner.” I gave them nod in the direction of the voice. They grab me by my arms and started to march. My feet walked along cold stone. I smell somewhere soup being made.
“Corporal Davben to present the prisoner for his majesty.” The sound of an opening door as they shuffle me through a door. My feet touch a thick carpet. A boot slammed into the back my knee. “Neal before the king.”
“Who are you?” A new voice rich and self-important. “What cat got your tongue?” said the voice as mail fist slammed into my face.
“Answer him.” Liking the new split next to my tusk.
“Spear Hector of the Iron Towers.”
“Tell me Hector a story. Tell me how you arrived at my court.”
“My story may not be of interest to you O king.” This earn me another hit.
“YOU are not worthy to speak to him prisoner!”
“Peace Davben. Let him speak.”
“You may have chained my body, but my will is something you will never capture.”
“My story begun on the road along the salt bone coast. My parents were traveling for the festival to honor the legion when I was born. I know this may seem like an odd start, but I must tell you where I was from to tell you how I got here. My parents were well respected in their stations in life. My father being a captain of the fire eaters banner and my mother being a potter. Life was simple until I was strong enough to enter the militia.
My father gave me to a mentor to guide me along the way. I both hated and loved my mentor, he taught me everything I know and broke me for the legion. The first lesson he made sure I learned was all, but one thing could be taken from you. That weapons, armor, magic and allies may fail you at any point. That a warrior’s will is the only thing they truly own. The second lesson was that a warrior’s strength was their legion and the legion’s strength was its warriors. Where I go the legion goes, where the legion goes, I fallow as it has always been. Lastly, he trained me in the ways of the fist and spell”
“If you were a mage where are your vestment of your order?” said a new voice marked by age.
“The day I start waring a robe and pointy hat is the day every archer will be gunning for my head.”
“And what drove so strongly for your legion? It’s not every day may warriors are stopped by little more than backwards barbarians.”
“Her name is Chloe. All you need to know was that her heart was beauty itself.”
“Oh, how delightful the savage does have a heart even though it’s not his own. But how did you come to that dreadfully hot pass?”
“Oh, that’s simple O king, the legion went, and I fallowed. The legion went because some of us went missing. You have something to do with that.”
“Yes, your people came through with more gold then they know what to do with. So, I helped myself to it. When they objected, I added their heads to my walls.”
“And that is why O king I will kill you.” Raising his now free hands.
“Guards!” Ripping off the blind fold I had just enough time to cast shield when the court mage lashed out with a thunder bolt. I feel the power course through and into me. I took the power and slammed it down into the floor shattering it. The guards were thrown down as I wasted no time running up to the king. The mage stepped in front of me and the king. I shoved the old man aside and went for the king. Punching the king in his fine-featured face I knocked him back into his throne. Pinning him to his chair by his face. I lean by his pointed ear and said.
“Justice in the land of the living Elf.” As I cast shocking grasp. Letting him go I continued my run pass the throne and jumped through the window. As the rainbowed colored shared rained around me I casted teleport and lived to fight another day.
Hector now seek to escape elf lands, reunite with his people and up hold the legion in all of his dealings in the mean time.
This one is an odd build of 6 levels open hand monk and 14 levels war wizard. The thinking being Hector is a living weapon of the legion.
Outside the Lines Fantasy – A collection of self published fiction stories.