Stormborn

When the storm comes, don’t run for cover.

            The trees shook and the houses creaked on the small coastal village. Storms were a regular occurrence for the people who lived by the ocean, every year there were a number of storm that made everything shake and tremble and every year the village lasted.

            Joseph was a young man who had seen his share of storms but that night a storm blew in like nothing he had seen. The storm covered the sky in every direction, it stirred up the ocean all the way to the horizon, all of the animals fled hours before it every appeared and all that remained were humans who thought they could out last the end of the world.

            Thunder boomed like a shouting voice and lighting cracked like arrows from the gods striking the land. Joseph was in awe of it all. He cursed himself for not leaving when he had the chance. He had been hiding with the rest of the village but the longer the waiting the larger the storm grew. It grew larger and larger until it looked like it would swallow the world. By the time Joseph realized how bad it was, it was already too late to run and too severe a storm to hide.

            The wind whipped through the village like a giant ghostly hammer crashing into homes and trees. Trees that stood for hundreds of years broke by the sheer force of the storm. Joseph walked out into the storm as his family pleaded for him to stay. He had made peace with his end and if he was to die he would die standing and watching the destructive force of nature rather than die hiding in a basement.

            Joseph couldn’t actually stand up in the storm but his point still stood even if he couldn’t.

            Lighting sizzled through the clouds and the thunder was so loud it was deafening. Joseph had never seen such a spectacle and was satisfied with his decision. He clung to the edge of a broken house as the wind tore through. Then lighting struck one last time for Joseph and then only darkness.

            Death comes for us all, both the brave and the fearful.

 Some would prefer to hide, some would rather look death in the face.

            That was end of Joseph the man but the beginning of the Stormborn.

Battle focus

I was sitting under a tree watching the rain. Gentle water drops fell from the sky, pattering against the land, the thin, green leaves danced and shook from the wind and rain.

            I stayed in a meditative state for several hours as I focused on sight of the lush field, the trees that dotted the land and the rain that fell upon it all. I listened to the raindrops, the wind and the shaking of branches. I felt my breath, I felt my hands grip my sword and I chose not to feel the wound in my abdomen.

            The blood was staunched, the wound was dressed and I continued to draw breath. The pain would have been unbearable if I was not meditating.

This was not the meditation of a monk or holy man lost in prayer, this was a kind of meditation that I taught myself after years on the battlefield. Years of pain and self discipline showed me the way to focus on every little detail of life, take it all in and feel everything except the pain. During this focus, I could not move, I wouldn’t feel hunger or thirst and if I broke my focus, the pain would rush back like a tidal wave.

            I observed the sun rise and set, I watched the moon and felt the insects of the field land on my skin and clothes, then fly off, completely unaware of my existence. When someone chooses to ignore their own suffering, others will often ignore it as well. One does not ask a tree about the day, or consult a sleeping man on the weather.

            Time was lost, it fell away with the rest of life. I awoke in the dead of night, confused, and in pain. I had stayed meditating for so long that I had collapsed from exhaustion. I have no way of knowing how long I slept or how much time had passed since I had been stabbed.

            My wound was dried and scabbed, my sword was still stuck in the ground but it was leaning in a pile of uneven dirt. I was hungrier than I had been in a very long time and my throat was dry as sand.

            I pulled on a thin chain, one end was connected to the bracer on my arm and the other was connected to my traveling bag. I dragged my travelers bag to my hunched form as I lay on the ground. The bag was easy to open but hard to steal. Nothing had been stolen from my bag but there had been times when I would awaken to find my sword stolen along with contents of the bag. Knowing I couldn’t protect my bag at all times, I chained it to my arm and built a secret compartment on the bottom of it. Anyone who stole from travelers would do so quickly and take the path of least resistance. They stole trinkets and extra clothes and blankets but never looked hard enough to find my secret compartment.

            The compartment held emergency food and water and all of my most valuable and sentimental possessions. I always needed food and water as soon as my meditation would end and I could not risk awakening to find I was weak, in the wilderness and without food or water.

My energy improved as I ate and drank. My wound was a dull ache and I had the energy to walk again. I continued my journey forward. I had survived another war, another dance with death and those who left me for dead will see me walk back into town with two working legs and the strength of a healthy soldier.

I am a mercenary, the indomitable swordsman and the survivor of over a hundred battle wounds. I am Virtus.

Rage against the calm

The rain and storm of the day swirled and howled against the order and comfort built by the humans below. Lights flickered in homes as the wind shook electricity poles. Windows rattled, rain battered against rooves and umbrellas were tossed around by the storm like cats tossed around a ball of tinfoil.

Greggory Smitt was preparing coffee when there was a knock on the door. Rain and mist shrouded the figure standing hunched outside the house. The figure wore a long coat and a brimmed hat. The collar of the coat was turned up to keep the rain off the neck. Greg opened to the door to reveal his next door neighbor, Henry Gearhart. Henry looked up with a warm smile. “Hellooo” He said as he leaned his “Os”.

            Everyone looked like ominous and suspicious figures while standing in the rain and the friendly neighbor was no exception. “Glad you could make it!” Greg exclaimed. Henry’s smile broadened as he stepped into the house. The home was warm and inviting. The front door led into the living room, then from the living room was a set of stairs to the second floor and in the back was the kitchen. The living room was decorated in earth tones with an emerald green recliner tucked away in the back by the television.

            Henry took off his brown loafers and proceeded into the living room. The smell of fresh coffee lingered in the air. The calm atmosphere of the home pushed back the raging storm outside.

            As Greggory led Henry through the living room, Henry noticed an old fashioned pistol hung on the wall. “Where did you get that?” Henry marveled. “It was my great grand father’s gun. Kept in the family and it still works too!” Greg said with pride. “Been getting much trouble on this part of town?” Henry joked. “No, nothing like that” Greg laughed.

            The two men walked into the kitchen, on the table was two cups of black coffee, a small bowl of sugar, a small carton box of creamer and spread across the table were papers. Henry stared at the papers as he removed his coat and hung it over the back of a kitchen chair. “Really glad you could help me with these taxes. Running my own business this last year has been a nightmare of paperwork” Greg said sheepishly. He didn’t like troubling his friends and neighbors for help but Henry was already thinking about the task at hand. “Oh no problem” Henry said with a smile and eyes that looked lost in thought. Henry snapped back to the present and sat down.

            As the two men sat down a knock was heard at the door. “I’ll get it” Greg said with a cheerful tone then walked briskly to the door. “I’ll just get to work” said Henry as he sorted through the papers. As Greg walked to the front door, Henry spotted the top of someone’s head move past the kitchen window. Henry stood up and walked to the window above the sink and looked down and around. The person was gone.

            Greg opened the door to reveal an ominous figure standing in the rain. “Hello, sir, can I trouble you for a minute” Asked the man in the coat. The man turned to Greg with a smile but the smile looked painted on. Cheerfulness was not this stranger’s default expression, which Greg discovered by noticing the deep frown lines on the man’s face. Greg was unnerved by the man but tried to remain polite. “I really am in the middle of something, sorry” Greg said hastily. The stranger stuck his foot against the door to keep it from closing. “It will only be a minute” said the man.

            As Greg spoke to the man at the front door, Henry heard the back door begin to open. Neither Greg or Henry were in very good shape but between the two of them, Henry had the natural strength and could have been an imposing figure if he wasn’t so lazy.

            Henry kept close to the wall and moved in on the door. The back door opened then a man in a dark coat entered the home. Henry hid behind the kitchen wall. A tree branch was pushed by the force of the wind outside and struck the side of the house. All four men were startled.

            The front door man jumped into the house, tackling Greg and slamming the door shut behind him. The man from the back door charged in. Henry panicked and saw an open door that appeared to be a closet. Henry charged from his hiding space and tackled the intruder into the closet. The intruder flew backward through the open door, which was the open door to the basement. The man was tackled then thrown down the stairs of the cellar, hitting each stair on his way down and landing on the concrete in a crumpled mess.

            Henry stood shocked for a minute but then ran to help Greg. Greg and the front door man were struggling and punching each other until Henry charged in and tackled the man. Greg scrambled to his feet and moved back into the living room while he watched Henry fight with the intruder. Everything was happening so fast that Greg didn’t have the mind to jump back in and help.

            As the two fought, the intruder wrestled in his coat for a weapon. The intruder pulled a knife from his coat and stabbed it down at Henry. The burly neighbor moved his head but the blade sliced his ear. The burglar tried again to stab Henry again. All of the grunting and struggling ended in a loud “Bang”.

            The intruder, who was on top of Henry, dropped his knife and clutched his side. Henry felt blood trickle onto his stomach. Greg stood there with a stern yet concerned face holding his great grandfather’s old pistol. “I told you it still worked”

The storm passed and the rain slowed to a trickle. The rage and chaos of the storm had tried to fight against the calm and serene atmosphere of the humans living below but the storm was gone and the houses remained.

Ambulance dragged away two injured burglars as police asked Greg and Henry a hundred questions. The calm air of Greg’s home was replaced with the feeling of rattled nerves and slowly calming adrenaline. As the police officers took pictures and wrapped up their investigation. A tired recruit in damp boots spotted the fresh coffee and in a hopeful voice asked “hey, can I have some coffee?”

The head officer scowled and Greg almost started to laugh. Instead of laughing, Greg just gestured to the coffee maker and said “help yourself”

Nature's change

Summer in the hills, green grass flowing as far as the eye could see. Sunlight shimmered off the water of Star Pond. The pond was large, located on the top of the tallest hill in the area and at night you could see the reflection of stars in the water.

Small cottages dotted the landscape, warm and cozy at night, a roaring hearth located in each little home, and cool and breezy during the day. The hill land ended abruptly at a valley where the mounds of earth of every size suddenly dropped off and made way for flat emerald green land. The tall grass of the valley swayed in the wind like waves in the ocean.

The warm days of summer and swimming in lakes gave way to the Fall season. The Fall colored the grass and trees with warm yellow, orange and red. The tall grass dried and looked like a golden wheat field. The best food of the year was harvested, stored and feasted on.

The valley had more cottages and houses clustered together. The terrain was forgiving and ripe for farming. At the edge of the valley was a great and mighty forest. Few forests in the world could be described as ‘mighty’, but the Ancient Wildwood not only covered a large section of land but the deeper into the forest the stronger the trees grew. The tall old trees were as big around as a cottage and the bark was as strong as iron. The people of the Valley would harvest the trees on the edge of the forest but no one ever successfully chopped down a tree in depths of the Ancient Wildwood.

The tall and ancient trees still bowed to nature like all trees do and their leaves we awash with bright orange and red. The Wildwood was so vibrant in the fall it could be seen for miles and looked as if it had caught fire.

The leaves of Autumn fell as the days grew cold. Late Autumn rain, cloudy skies and the bare branches of ancient trees made an eerie yet beautiful sight. A man carrying a lantern walked through the deep Wildwood, his small light bounced with each step. Through the forest and onto the edge of the land was a steep cliff side. The sheer cliff would have been impassible if not for a small winding trail that lead from the forest down to the sand beach below.

The path was steep and one false step could lead to a deadly fall to the shore below. Down the path and onto the windy beach, the rain from the season mixed with the cold of the ocean. Waves crashed against the sand, rain fell from the sky and wind blew in from the furthest reaches of the world.

Autumn drifted away like a falling leaf and winter blew. The rain was replaced with snow and the cold air mixed with the warm exhaling breath. Visible steam like breath puffed from the traveler’s nose and mouth as he stepped aboard a large ship. The ship was leaving this land and off to explore the unknown.

The chill brought in from the ocean heightened the cold of winter. Back in the forest the animals hid inside the great trees for shelter. The Ancient Wildwood might have lost its leaves but it would not bend to even the coldest winds of winter. The Wildwood lasted hundreds of years and stood against hundreds of winters. The people of the land did not worship the Ancient Wildwood but they did treat it with respect and hoped to also be as sturdy and enduring as the forest itself.

The snow had settled in the valley, the wind from the ocean was broken by the cliffside and tall standing forest. Trails of smoke lifted up from a dozen chimneys, the smoke curled and twisted on the breeze as it floated away.

From the Valley to the Hills, the snow had settled everywhere. The hills were so covered in snow that it was hard to tell where the snow stopped and the rock began. Star Pond had frozen over, the ice shimmered like glass and the pond took on an even more mystical aura as if it were a giant mirror hidden away in the hills.

Night in the hills was clear and every star was visible. The cold of winter sent chilling wind blowing over the glassy Star Pond. The people in the Valley often told stories of highest hill and Star Pond. They worried that on winter nights, when the air was cold and the sky appeared larger than normal, it would be possible to fall up into the blackness of space.

Just as night faded to day so did winter melt away. Spring crept in, slow and with caution. The snow turned to puddles, the Pond turned from icy glass back to water and the earth turned damp and muddy. The gray skies, rainy weather and muddy ground was far from the bright bloom of spring that most wished for but the damp weather meant water for plants and the plants did grow and eventually they bloomed. The bright blooming flowers and trees sprung up across the Hills and Valley. The Ancient Wildwood turned emerald green and the ocean by the shore calmed to a more reasonable pace.

            The people of the Hills and Valley were happy, they began their planting of crops, the children played in the muddy valley and swam in the cold water of Star Pond. The land and people grew another year older and observed another year of natures changing beauty.

Winter for Conspirators Part 2

            Delana ruled over Jillian’s heart in the way that Jillian ruled over the battlefield. She fought with her soft green eyes and red hair, her summer dresses and talent for making Jill blush.  Delana was always the first one to turn any situation into a joke and loved to laugh. The only time Jillian ever saw Delana cry was on their last day together when Delana, frightened by the power of the Vanguard, made Jill choose between her or the Vanguard armor.

            The Vanguard now fought for her life in the fortress of the deceased General Durm. Every soldier in the meeting room rushed the Ebon knight while a servant boy ran to alert the rest of the soldiers in the keep. News of General Durm’s death spread like fire and soon the entire fortress had transformed into a hive of angry bees.

            Blood painted the walls with each swing of the Vanguard’s axe. Jillian wielded her two-handed battle-axe with both hands. She would normally flail her large weapon around with one hand but her rash decision making led to a very dire situation and she would need her full effort to escape alive.

            Axes, spears and swords charged into the small room, stabbing, thrusting and slashing at the demon knight. Jillian had incredible reflexes, speed and strength but was so surrounded that even she couldn’t avoid taking damage. Blood began to trickle from the gaps in her armor, spotting the floor and mixing with the pool of soldier blood forming at her feet.

            She rushed forward with her axe, he eyes burning red and her black armor lit up with fiery runes. Her helmet was still on the table from the meeting minutes before. Jillian reached for the helmet as she pushed her way through the room and the helmet jumped into her outstretched hand. She slammed her helmet over her head causing more runes to scrawl across the armor. The Vanguard began emitting a blazing heat as well and the soldiers felt like they were fighting next to a roaring bonfire.

            Through the enchantments of the armor, the wearer is always stronger when wearing the complete set. Now that Jillian had her helmet she was even more of an unnatural force. The Vanguard swung her axe back and forth as she pushed forward. Each axe swing was like a farmer cutting down wheat for the harvest, each harvest a bloody soldier.

            Jillian’s blood stopped dripping from the armor and instead was being absorbed by the black enchanted metal. Her blood was feeding the power of the Vanguard armor and the more wounded she became, the stronger she grew. The armor fed on the blood of its host and of the victims as their bodies fell. The armor wasn’t keeping Jillian alive in any way and she could die from blood loss if she wasn’t careful. When she reached her peak frenzy, she would stop feeling pain and only rage would exist in her mind.

            Corpses tumbled down the stairs into the main room of the keep as the Vanguard tore through the ranks of Durm Fortress. The Vanguard was like a nightmare made real, a demon pulled from the earth to smite the human race and still the soldiers fought on. The soldiers didn’t know of General Durm’s treachery, they didn’t know that the Vanguard was indeed hired by the King and so they thought they were fighting a great evil. They fought and died for their King and land and Jillian didn’t have the time or mental capacity to explain otherwise.

            “You are a monster!” Shouted a terrified soldier as he slashed wildly with his sword. Most of the slices clanked uselessly against the Vanguard’s powerful armor but the sword strikes that hit between the gaps made Jillian bleed her life force down into the greedy maw of the dark armor.

“You’re a monster” Cried another voice. This wasn’t a soldier, it was a voice inside Jillian’s head. Delana sat crumpled over on the grass as she sobbed. “You’re a monster” she cried. That was the first time Jillian went into a frenzy.

Jillian blacked out and when she came to her senses she had massacred a group of militiamen.

Several of the militia had been too forceful while trying to flirt with Delana. Jillian arrived on the scene to see her love struggling to leave as the men pulled on Delana’s arm and laughed. Jillian blacked out and in her frenzy carved them all up and her armor drank their blood. When Jillian heard Delana call her a monster she was struck with a pain that she had not felt before or since.

Jillian had been hurt in a thousand different ways since that day and hearing Delana’s words was still the worst thing she experienced.

            The sadness of that moment tore through her mind like daggers and the rage in Jillian swelled. The loneliness, the heartache and the loss would all be rolled into a ball of anger and forced onto the soldiers of Durm’s fortress who thought they were fighting for their King.

            The Vanguard made it out of the keep and into the courtyard when her blood loss began to slow her movements. Archers rained arrows down from the guard towers set up along the walls. “Close the gates!” Shouted the captain of the guards. The soldiers surrounded Jillian as the arrows continued to fall. The Vanguard lashed out with slow powerful axe swings, each swing sent out a burst of flames that would burn up arrows and scorch exposed skin. Magical flames would burst out from the runes on the armor with each step the Vanguard took. The armor wasn’t sentient but the magic in the armor was enhanced by blood and at that moment the armor was drenched in it.

            Jillian’s vision started to blur as she rushed forward. Jillian stopped moving but the armor continued expelling bursts of flames from everywhere and her axe burned with molten heat. The Vanguard was drenched in blood, covered in wounds, with arrows sticking out of her. The soldiers began to feel that they won and began to cheer.

Then the Vanguard shook and launched forward in a dead sprint. The dark knight moved like a bolt of lighting, ran straight into the gate and collided into the massive door with enough force to cause a shockwave. A loud boom and a shockwave was sent up into the archer towers toppling the soldiers from their perch. The Gate cracked open just enough and the Vanguard continued its mad dash to escape. A giant hole was torn through the metal gate, the edges of the hole were burnt from heat, bent back and curled up as if the metal was as flexible as clay.

Durm fortress was left in ruin, trails of bodies and smearing of blood ran through the halls. The Vanguard was nowhere to be seen. That was the historic day in the Kingdom when the record number of soldiers, knights, guards and servants all quit their post at the same time.

            The treachery against the King never came to pass and without General Durm the conspirators disbanded. The King publicly denounced the actions of the Vanguard but was secretly grateful for disposing of General Durm and those loyal to him.

            As for the Vanguard, she never reported in to the King, she never spoke to his advisor and no one in that Kingdom reported seeing a fierce black knight.

While the legend of the Vanguard would grow in that land for years to come, the fate of the actual Jillian Cole would remain a mystery.

The last Autumn

            “The cold breeze is nice” said Joe as he laid in bed. Autumn had arrived and the cool air of the season was blowing gently in through Joe’s open window. He lay in bed with a warm plaid flannel blanket covering him. Joe stared at the ceiling, his eyes half open and a drowsy expression across his face.

            “Why do you always mention the wind more than any other detail about the day? How about the trees, sunlight or even the traffic and people” Asked Joe’s brother Bill.

            “I love the wind, it travels across the land, it can go anywhere. It could be a warm breeze, a cool refreshing gust or a bitter winter wind. We can’t see it, but it changes so much of the scenery around us, moving trees and pushing over babies. It carries flower seeds and pollen. Its almost as romantic as rain. And best of all we can all create wind with our breath” Joe explained in a quiet groggy voice then inhaled and blew out air quickly through his mouth causing the thin curtains to shake and dance. “See, we all have it in us. Or bodies are made of water, our atoms are made of stars and we can create wind with our breath” Joe added.

            Bill smiled weakly. Joe made humans sound almost godly and maybe compared to other creatures they are, but gods didn’t die of diseases. Gods didn’t waste away in bed with a head full of medication. Bill didn’t know what to think, he didn’t have words or explanations for life. He just sat with his brother waiting for the inevitable. Bill tried to make himself useful but Joe rarely asked for anything and a nurse came by twice a day with his meds.

            Bill was in turmoil, he was the healthy one but his mind raged against life and he felt like he would cry at any moment. Joe stared peacefully at the swaying autumn trees. The world seemed so beautiful to him and while Bill worried, Joe’s mind was at peace.

            Days passed and little changed day by day. Medication, IV drip, a little tv, contemplation of life, Bill sometimes eats, Joe can’t eat anymore.

The sun rises, Bill opens the window, Joe wakes up and compliments the breeze. This happened every day, until one day, the sun raised, Bill opened the window and Joe didn’t wake up.

            A strong breeze blew in through Joe’s open window. It shook the curtains and knocked the flannel blanket to the floor. Bill’s tears streaked down his face, his hands trembled and he stood by the window unable to move as he muttered “The cold breeze is nice, right Joe?”

Crimson Hand Origin

Rain fell from the sky, beating the ground like fingers tapping on a drum. Samantha and Rumford Gould had left Mist Harbor but the rain followed them. “No one enjoys our company as much as the rain” Rumford joked.

A chilled breeze blew through and rustled their cloaks. Samantha wore her cloak with her hood up and her black leather gloves. She wore a sleeveless tunic and black pants. She wasn’t bothered by the chill in the air but had to keep her appearance and her hand covered at all times. Rumford looked like he was preparing for a blizzard with all of his layers of clothes. He wore enough clothes to cover any trace of bone or hint of green glow from the flame in his chest. The only spots visible were his eyes and the skin around the eyes. Rumford didn’t feel hot or cold, he didn’t get tired or need to eat or drink, so he carried all the extra clothes, watched over Samantha when she slept and remained covered as often as possible.

The two approached the Autumn Forest, the forest of autumn colors, honey, apples and maple. The air was always cooler there but it never snowed. Leaves fell from the trees and blew in the breeze but the trees were never bare. The Autumn Forest was a beautiful sight for most but not for Samantha.

Samantha was born in the small village of Honeydew, her life was quiet, peaceful and boring. Every day was greeted with beautiful fall colors and a cool breeze to temper the midday sun.

            When Samantha turned nineteen, she decided to leave her village in search of adventure. Her journey started on a clear and sunny day when the sky was a bright blue and the air was crisp. She was a spunky youth with a sharp tongue, a warming smile and plans for adventure. She knew how to plant and harvest crops and orchards, she could chop wood, hunt and ride horses. Samantha was prepared for the long road ahead and understood that life wouldn’t always be fair or kind outside of her village.

            The sunlight danced through the swaying leave of the forest and speckled the ground in golden rays. Samantha’s horse trotted along the well-treaded path from the Autumn Forest to Bright Harbor. Samantha spotted a dark haired traveler on the path. He had olive skin, black hair, brown eyes and wore layers of robes. Samantha rode up next to the man as he walked along the dirt road, his robes kicking up dust as he went. “I rarely see travelers on these roads” Samantha called to the man. The robed man flinched in surprise as he turned quickly. “H-hello. Yes, I’m traveling” The man said nervously. Samantha gave a suspicious look at the nervous man. “Is everything alright?” Samantha asked as she slowed down. The man’s face started to relax “Yes, thank you. I just need to get to Hallows End before the Halloween festival is over.

            “You are going the wrong way for that. If you want, I can take you” Samantha said. She planned on going to Bright Harbor but a spooky town of monsters all celebrating at once could be fun as well. “My name is Samantha, whats your name?” Samantha asked as she helped the man onto the horse. “Rumford” Replied the man with a big smile.

            Hallows End was a town deep in the Haunted Forest, a forest so dangerous that no one had ever returned from the forest once they entered it. Once a year the forest would magically open into a straight path leading to Hallows End. The bravest residence of the Autumn Forest and some tourists would go to Hallows End every year to celebrate Halloween. While the Haunted Forest was extremely dangerous, the town of Hallows End was one of the safest places in the world. Large monsters kept the peace and the town was founded on peace with all who enter as friends.

            Samantha knew where the path would open and knew when it would open. She road her horse to the entrance of the Haunted forest on the night before Halloween. The two arrived at the edge of the forest and set up a small camp. There was a visible line where the curse of the Haunted forest ended and the start of the healthy Autumn Forest began. there was no noticeable entrance of any kind but Rumford was an outsider and had to trust Samantha knew what she was doing.

            Rumford was slow to open up, he huddled into his robes like a turtle in his shell but as the night went on he loosened up. Samantha turned on her charms, she was witty and sarcastic and this connected with Rumford’s dry sense of humor and love of sarcasm. The difference was Samantha seemed fearless and Rumford was more timid.

            The cool night air blew through the Autumn Forest and swept over Samantha’s camp. The wind made the flames dance. The fire danced to the song of the wind, spreading light and heat out into the cold dark night, the flames spat little embers up into the air like a dancer throwing confetti. The embers popped and sizzled before burning out and drifting down to the earth as harmless ash. Rumford shyly laughed and smiled as Samantha told stories about the Autumn Forest and her small adventures she had so far. Rumford couldn’t take his eyes off the red haired woman from the Autumn forest. He stared at her pale face through the crackling flames, her green eyes were fierce and pushed back the darkness of night just as much as the roaring flames did. He saw a heroic woman who just started her journey, a conqueror of lands and a force to be reckoned with.

            Samantha tried her best to tell her boring stories to pass the time, she looked at her new traveling companion and realized that there was a cute and funny guy hidden in that pile of hair and robes. Samantha didn’t think her stories were very interesting but Rumford hung on her every word. Stories of scaring bears away from the fish she just caught, or shooting an arrow at a bandit who tried to run off with and old ladies money. These weren’t big battles between wizards and demons but a shut in like Rumford was enthralled.

            “So enough about my stories, what about you?” Samantha asked, as the light from the campfire glinted in her eyes.  “I study monsters, supernatural events and magic. I wanted to study Hallows end for the longest time but had to wait till the right time when the path opened. I also had to wait till the head scholar approved of my journey” Rumford explained. “So…” Samantha muttered but trailed off as she chose her next words. “what you are saying is, while everyone is partying on Halloween you are using it as a chance to study?” Samantha asked with a sly smile. “Yes” Rumford replied innocently. “NERD!” Samantha shouted then burst into laughter. She playfully threw her pillow at him and continued to laugh. This kind of remark would usually annoy Rumford but somehow when the words came from Samantha he didn’t mind at all. He smiled and felt embarrassed but also happy that something he did made her laugh.

            The two met on that day, the night before Halloween, one hundred years ago. Present day, Samantha and Rumford Gould, husband and wife, Crimson hand and Ghoulish bodyguard, road to the entrance of the Haunted forest. Rumford turned to his wife as the approached “Remember when we first met? All I wanted to do was study monsters” Rumford joked. “NERD!” Samantha shouted with a big smile then punched Rumford’s arm. She heard the sound of his shoulder bone crack as the joint popped out of place. The air went dead and the two were silent. “Its fine, I’ll fix it later. Ya know, I used to love monsters and now I AM one” Rumford tried to joke. Samantha winced and looked like she was going to cry. “You will never be a monster to me” Samantha said, looking Rumford in the eyes. Rumford had a flash back to that first night they met. The dark of night, the cold wind, Samantha’s pale beautiful face and her tender look, it was all just like that night, so much so that he could imagine the flames crackling and he could see the flaming glint in her eyes.

            “We will get revenge” Samantha said. Her whispered voice floated away like a hushed wind.

Twisting Apathy

 A twisting wind whirled across the land, physical matter was torn to shreds in its wake. At the center was a person with a bored expression. 

The Earth spun through space, flew continuously around a giant ball of fire and all of this floated in an infinite weightless vacuum. Back on Earth the whirlwind torn through the land. The people of Earth were generally unimpressed by all of these events. 

"Get back to me when the whirlwind is on fire!" One person said with a shrug as the deadly wind ripped the neighbors house from the ground. As the house was torn to a thousand pieces and neighbor JoJack was pulled into a thousand directions the surrounding neighborhood was still uninterested and continued along with their lives.

"It's a bit of a nuisance, but if it was a real threat someone would have said something by now" John Muggak said to his friend, who had expressed momentarily concern then went back to his general comfortable state. John smiled, pleased with himself for being so smart. He walked over to his television, grabbed the remote and turned the TV on. "This week, there is terrible news!" Shouted the news reporter as he gripped each side of his desk. "Ashley Allure the famous starlet was dumped by her rich celebrity boyfriend! Who gets the car?! Which of the ten cars do they get? Stay tuned for all the details!" The nicely groomed newscaster shouted in a panic.

John Muggak looked alarmed "see?! If we worried about some wind outside we would have missed this!" John shouted at his friend. Then John felt proud for being so right about the situation.

The humanoid at the center of the whirlwind grew bored of the destruction and eventually stopped. Three towns were flattened by the powerful winds when the whirlwind being decided to quit. The winds dissipated and the humanoid vanished into the air. Sadly Ashley Allure never returned with her boyfriend.

The winds of Zephyr

It was a cool and breezy evening in a little port town. Fishermen were bringing in their haul for the day and taverns were stoking fires and preparing food and drink for a night of regular customers and travelers looking to rest. It was the perfect night to sit outside with a cup of coffee or mug of ale and watch the ocean.

            A little boy named Henry was out on the docks waiting for his father to come home when he spotted a strange ship in the horizon. The ship was as large as a navy battleship but instead of the kingdom seal, the flag was black with a bloody skull image. The dark ship marked the peaceful landscape as it sailed closer to shore. A dark storm was growing and following in the trail of the dreaded black flag ship. Henry knew the men on the ship were pirates and not the fun kind that go on adventures. Henry ran into the house to tell his father and word spread quickly of the approaching pirate ship.

            The pirate ship sailed so quickly toward the town that it looked as if Zephyr, the god of the winds was carrying them to shore. The town prepared what weapons they had and tried to fortify the docks. The town had been at peace for so long that they were not ready for a pirate invasion. The harder the townspeople worked the more they realized how unprepared they truly were. Within an hour the pirates were almost upon them and the dark storm was already overhead. Thunder boomed and the lighting crashed around. Visible bolts struck the water around the pirate ship as it approached. The townspeople were so overwhelmed by the attack and it hadn’t even happened yet. Surly the pirates were closer to demons than they were mortal men. The town would be reduced to ash and no one in the town would ever be heard from again, nor their bodies ever found.

            The dread ship was so close that the pirates could be seen from shore. The pirates weren’t cheering for blood with swords ready, they were fleeing the storm. Terror could be seen in the faces and eyes of all above deck, the storm was chasing them and refused to let up. a bolt of lighting shot down from the sky and struck the ship. A loud crack and bang were heard, sounding like an explosion. The sound of wood being bent and broken followed up next, then the screams of pirates as they fled into the water. Electricity poured from the clouds and crashed into the ship. The townspeople looked on in horror as they saw what they thought was the wrath of god. The electricity spread out along the breaking and splintering wood and resembled a giant hand.

            After ten minutes of lighting pounding the pirate ship and unrelenting strikes on the water, the storm began to calm and the skies cleared up. The storm vanished from the sky and that remained were dead pirates and broken ship pieces. The boy Henry spotted a man washed up on the shore and he was breathing. While the pirates wore black and red and were covered in weapons and tattoos, this man looked more like a sailor or a person that might live in that very town. He was pale and had black hair that came down to his eyes, he had a long navy blue coat that looked weather resistant, sturdy black boots and black workers gloves. The townspeople helped him onto dry land and he was take to the local tavern. It was agreed that he was most likely a prisoner of the pirates and that he could be trusted, but should still be watched.

            The man had twenty feet of chain stashed inside of his long coat, a large sharp hook, two stone jars engraved with mystical runes, various tiny bottles of herbs and exotic ingredients, a flintlock pistol, a pouch of gold coins and a small sailor’s knife.

The townspeople were a little startled by all of the strange items in the man’s coat, but they insisted on making him comfortable while he recovered from his injuries. They had many questions for him and figured that he would be less likely to answer them if he woke up in the local jailhouse.

            The man started to wake up, he found himself in a warm bed, near a crackling fire. The injured man has sparkling blue eyes like the sea after a storm. He tried to stand but felt too weak. The mayor of the village came into the house to greet the injured man. The mayor had a handlebar mustache, brown eyes and gray hair. “Hello, son. Can you speak? My name is mayor Gustav. Who are you?” Asked the Mayor. “My name is Isaac” Said the injured man before passing out.

            The mysterious Isaac survived being held by pirates and lived through a overwhelming storm that killed all the pirates aboard. The townspeople had so many questions and hoped that he had the answers.

The World through the Magic lens

            I don’t know how everyone else sees the world, but I don’t think many people see it the way I do, the way I used to. I see things with vibrant colors, a person’s personality shines brightly from their eyes and some even have an aura around them that is as wondrous as fireworks or stars. Every tree has hidden secrets, the more unique in shape or size something is the more life I see in it. Once I saw large tree standing taller than all the other trees in the forest and my mind came alive, I saw the tree built into a giant tree house, then suddenly wooden planks and pathways spread out to the other trees and soon there was a whole town built up into the treetops. Or I might see it as a mystical tree, the guardian of the forest, a great elder tree with a face that is connected to everything in the forest and protects it from harm.

            I see something with my eyes and my mind puts a layer of imagination, possibility and emotions over that image. When a person genuinely smiles, when they experience a moment that catches them off guard and makes them feel that happiness, if I see that moment I am filled with my own happiness and so my emotions mix with the moment. I see a person smile and my mind shows me the light of the human soul. Even if its just for a brief moment and even if the light is dim, I see and experience something real for that second.

            I don’t think other people see the world like this, because if they did then smiles, rain, sunshine, trees and coffee and little things like that would be valued so much more than celebrity gossip, sex or money. I have nothing against sex and money but if offered the chance to either have infinite days of sex and money or infinite days of tranquil rain, tall trees, coffee, peace and stories, I think I would choose the latter.

            I see the colors of a person’s personality, I see the light of a soul, the possibilities of a large tree the bliss of the falling rain, except for when I don’t. I live off of imagination and creativity and it makes me whole. The day I do not see the rain as magical is the day I do not want to live anymore.

            My problem is pain, I have said it once and I will say it again. I am so familiar and intimate with the experience of pain that we should probably get married less we get struck down for living in sin. When my intestines aren’t being twisted like a pretzel then I have back pain, and if not back pain then joint pain. There is always pain. I can’t speak for the whole human race but I can say most Americans don’t live with the level of pain that I live with and certainly not at such a young age. When I talk about pain I am not complaining about a headache or a tummy ache, I am talking about the feeling of glass grinding in my bones and a knife twisting in my guts. The kind of pain that makes you not want to be alive or get out of bed. Luckily not every day is like that and I get to enjoy my coffee and rain and be content. The is also the double edge sword of pain medicine.

            Pain meds are these magical pills that wash over you and wipe away the pain, they make you feel good and the world seems right. That feeling does not last, but the numbness does. The pills numb the brain so you don’t feel the pain, but it also makes it hard to feel everything else. Taking my pain meds makes me loose my filter, my magical lens that I get to see the world in. Without the pills my pain slows me down and sometimes I lose whole days of my life to the pain, but without taking meds I can see the world in a more magical way. I get to see the world through my own imagination lens. Everything in the world seems more wondrous and the good start to outweigh the bad. Sure I am in pain but look how beautiful the sky looks after it rains! Its like the heavens opened up and you can see a glimpse of the afterlife.

            When I take the pills it keeps the pain at bay, the rabid dog that is pain gets put on a leash and told to behave. The rabid dog is still there but its calmed now. Then I start to see the world as I suspect others see it. A tree is a tree, rain is water that falls from the sky, it makes traffic more dangerous, coffee is only for waking up in the morning and when people smile its their happiness, not mine.

            I am always the same person but without the magical lens the world seems like a darker place. I am a better version of myself whenever I can manage to go a few days without my medication.

            Sometimes it rains while I am on my pain meds and I look outside and see only rain, I don’t feel the serenity or the calm that rain brings. I look outside and I remember how much joy rain used to bring me and I know there is a magical world of peace and tranquility right outside my window at that moment, but it is slightly out of reach and I just can’t see it yet.

            When it rains I see water fall from the sky, but one day the rain will take me back to that magical place. The place were water, wind and fog swirl through the air and the cool breeze refreshes the spirit, a place where anything could be waiting over the horizon. The best stories start on a dark and stormy night and the best adventures happen on a cool foggy afternoon.

Winter Fatigue

Frost melted from the windows of the old house, a man peeked out at the outside world, weary from snow and skeptical of the warm weather. He had been trapped in his small house for months from all of the snow. There was still snow on the ground, but there were also hints of green grass poking through. It was faded green but any color other than white and gray was a wondrous sight.  Birds sang out a happy tune on a near by branch and the man was encouraged further. He opened the door and felt the sun shine on his skin, it was warm and inviting, the smell of melting snow and rain filled his nostrils. He smiled for the first time in months. He was so excited that he ran outside only half dressed.

            Spring had sprung and the man began to dance and run around his yard. The mud and the chilly rain did not bother him, even a cool spring day felt like summer compared to the harsh winters he had experienced. Winter was over and now it was time to celebrate. The man decided to run inside, get dressed and then travel out into the world, somewhere further than the front of his house.

           

            He ran toward his house and right before he reached his door the wind blew hard and pulled it shut. He door slammed right on his face. The wind blew hard again and shook snow off of the tree branches. Slushy, freezing snow plopped down on the old mans head. This soured his mood but he thought “At least winter is behind us”

            That night the whole area had six feet of snow.

Joseph Stephens and the Clover brawl part 2

            It was a quiet St. Patrick’s day evening, the grass was green the trees were starting to bloom and everyone was having a good time consuming low level poisons that tasted like bread and happiness. On the outskirts of town was a pub that the locals referred to as “The Clover”. Joseph Stephens and Jaye Williams stood in the demolished bar as a whole group of magical and ‘roided out bros stared them down. Joseph and Jaye glowed with a golden light from the magical Irish stout they drank in the basement of the bar and they were ready to show these jerks not to mess with people who just want to mind their own business. Wizbro smiled from under his amber-crombi brand hood. Joseph ran forward with the fury of a guy who was picked on in high school and now has magical powers. Joseph swung at the Wizbro and midair Joseph’s arm turned to stone. The stone punch connected with Wizbro’s face. The stone fist shattered his good looks and the other bros quickly leaped on him and devoured him to gain his power. The Bros can smell weakness and hate the weakness in themselves as well as others, so they seek to destroy all who are considered ‘less’ than themselves. Also Wizbro was magical so eating his flesh could give people magic.

            RoidBro stepped up in his place, now surging with some small amount of magic stolen from Wizbro and veins filled with illegal drugs he charged at Joseph and punched Joseph so hard he flew backward, destroying a support beam and part of the wall as he went. “No one beats on him but me!” Jaye shouted, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a claw hammer engulfed in flames. “Flaaaame Hammar!” He shouted, hoping his catch phase would catch on. He then threw the hammer with all of his magical strength. it whirled through the air at Roidbro. Before it could hit, Roidbro caught it out of the air and began to laugh. His laughing was interrupted as the flames from the hammer spread out along his arm and then quickly covered his whole body in scorching flames. RoidBro slammed his palms on the ground causing a shockwave which extinguished the flames. RoidBro was too late though and his shockwave was his last act. Roidbro fell over and hit the ground with such force it shattered the floor under him and his body fell into the cellar.

            Several Bros charged Jaye at the same time, unaffected by another fellow council member’s death. “I am starting to think this group is more about picking fights than sticking together” Jaye said as the group rushed at him. Jaye jumped in the air causing wind to start spinning around his body, when he landed the wind was discharged and sent out rushing toward the group. Hurricane winds blasted back the bros and shattered all the windows in the building. Jill was taking cover behind the bar and when the hurricane winds blasted out the windows she went into the basement.

            Every time Joseph or Jaye took out a Bro there always seemed to be more to take their place. Joseph tried to focus his energy, all of his golden energy focused into his hands and he shot it into the air. He used all of his power but was still drunk. Joseph fell over from exhaustion and because he was a lightweight. As soon as he hit the floor a crack of thunder shook the sky. Rain began to pour down and a bolt of lighting shot down through the ceiling and struck a group of bros, blasting them to ashes. The bar caught fire from the lighting strike and the wind from the storm spread the fire over the wooden furniture. Jaye realized how serious it was getting and grabbed his friend. Jaye used the last of his energy to teleport both of them a twenty feet away from the bar and outside. Jaye then remembered Jill the bartender was still in bar. He started to run toward the bar when he saw a group of Bros charging in over the horizon like a vicious army of beasts. Then the redheaded bartended blasted out of the bar, glowing with energy and using wind magic to fly. She drank the rest of the Legendary Irish Stout and now surged with power. The bros were furious as they charged the bar. Jill the bartender charged up a ball of fire and then launched a stream of flames out from her hands. The bar, the army of bros and any grass in the area was consumed by flames as the flying bartended laughed hysterically.

            Time passed, the rains extinguished the flames and Jill, Jaye and Joseph had all sobered up and exhausted their magic. There was nothing left of the bar, just scorched ground and ash. Joseph had regained consciousness and was staring at the spot where the bar used to be. “We did the world a service getting rid of those bros” said Jill. “What will you do now? Asked Joseph. “Maybe the Owner will sell me the land cheap, I could start my own bar. Not a gimmicky bar, just something nice to call my own” Jill replied. “Can we get free drinks?” Jaye asked excitedly. “If you help me build it” Jill replied. “Well that’s a deal!” both Jaye and Joseph said at the same time.

            It was a cold, rainy night, St. Patricks day was almost over. Joseph could think of better ways to spend his day, but having a drunken magic fueled brawl while ridding the world of a dozen or more Bros is still pretty great.

Joseph Stephens and the best Christmas ever part 2

It was the night of Christmas Eve and in four short hours it would be midnight, meaning Christmas. Joseph Stephens and Jaye Williams were both still seeing autumn colors instead of normal leafless trees and on top of that it had not snowed and it didn’t look like it would snow any time soon. “We need some snow and a way to stop seeing autumn, at least for a day” Joseph said. They both loved autumn but Christmas wouldn’t be the same without snow and proper Christmas colors. “Hey Winter! Ya big jerk, get down here!” Jaye yelled. Joseph’s eyes widened and he shook his head frantically at Jaye.

            A freezing cold wind blew through the town and Old man winter stood before the two friends. Winter was an older looking man with whitish blue skin, a great white beard, he was thin and was the height of an average human male. From the moment he appeared Winter had his teeth clenched and was glaring at Jaye. “Hello winter, my friend was just trying to get your attention. You see he actually wanted to apologize.” Said Joseph. “I did?” Asked Jaye. Then he added “Oh, right! Yes I did. Look winter, I am sorry for bashing your head with a hammer. It was Joseph’s fault for leaving the hammer out anyway. I am still sorry for whacking you with it” Jaye said. Winter’s face relaxed a little but he still looked annoyed. “apology accepted” Winter muttered angrily.

            “So does this mean you will make it snow for Christmas day?” Asked Joseph. “And also help cure us and let us see winter scenery again? We drank some autumn magic creamer and it makes us only see autumn stuff” Added Jaye. Old man Winter winced as the two friends spoke. It was as if their voices caused him actual physical pain. “No, and no. I accept your apology but I still hate both of you, so no snow on Christmas. Also autumn magic is too different from winter magic for me to help you, even if I wanted to, which I don’t. The creamer should be out of your system by Christmas morning” Winter explained.

            “Do different seasons really have such diverse magic?” Asked Jaye. “Yeah, every season has their own type of magic, which is why we can hurt each other” Winter replied. “Look I gotta go, your faces and voices are annoying me and I gotta get something to drink. This was a bad year to quit drinking” Winter added. Then Jaye got an idea. “Wait! Joseph has some private stock rum in his kitchen, if you make it snow for tonight and all through Christmas then we will give you the rum” Jaye offered. Winter seemed intrigued but looked at Joseph to see if this was true. Joseph sighed and then nodded. He didn’t want to give up his finest rum but if it meant snow on Christmas then he would do it. The lack of snow on Christmas didn’t just effect Joseph’s house, it affected the whole town. One bottle of rum was a fair trade for a wintry Christmas for the whole town.

            Jaye ran off like an excited puppy, leaving Joseph and Winter standing in the front yard alone. “So how’s your head feeling?” Joseph asked, trying to sound concerned. Winter just growled. Jaye was gone for three minutes exactly, but those minutes felt like an eternity as Winter and Joseph stood in uncomfortable silence. Jaye returned with a glass bottle of eggnog. “I forgot that I mixed all of his rum into this eggnog earlier today. Its still pretty strong. Is that ok?” Jaye asked. “So Strong!” Added Joseph. Winter looked annoyed but accepted. “yeah that’s ok. Eggnog is pretty festive” Winter took a swig from the bottle the moment Jaye put it in his hands.

            Winter drank down several gulps. Winter drank from the bottle like it was life saving medicine. Winter lowered the bottle from his mouth and sighed happily. then a weird look crossed his face. “What was in that eggnog? I feel sick” Winter said as he started to tremble on his feet. Winter lurched over and began throwing up icy slush mixed with eggnog. “That was eggnog laced with magic pumpkin creamer! Ha Autumn Magic!” Jaye yelled then kicked Winter in the face. Winter stumbled backward “you! I will…” Winter started to say as his rage overflowed. Jaye interrupted him with another kick. “how does Betrayal taste, jerk?” Jaye shouted. Joseph Stephens was nervous that this wouldn’t end well. but then again Winter was a jerk and he wasn’t going to bring snow to Christmas anyway. Joseph Stephens picked up a shovel and whacked Winter with it “Betrayal x2!” Joseph shouted. Jaye then pulled a claw hammer from his back pocket. “Cllaaaaww Hammah!!” Jaye shouted into the air and then hit winter again. As the two friends beat on Winter the thought came to Joseph. “If Winter wasn’t an immortal and magical being this would be incredibly illegal and messed up.

            The two friends pummeled Winter until finally Winter used his weakened magic to make icy winds blow the two men backward. “Fine! I will return the snow! But I warn you, I am not one to mess wi…” Winter warned but was interrupted when Jaye shouted “Claaaw Haaammmar!” And then threw his claw hammer at winter, striking the Wintery deity in the face. Winter let out a loud roar that sounded like hurricane winds blowing through a town. Then Winter vanished in a buff of snow and ice. “Yeah! And tell Santa Clause that I still have a score to settle with him!” Jaye shouted.

            True to his spiteful words, Winter made it snow. Snow began to fall gently over the town. The two friends still saw autumn trees, pumpkins and fall decorations, but now there was snow over everything. It was a weird and magical sight. Joseph Stephens and Jaye Williams went inside and decided to rest. They hoped that in the morning they would see Christmas the way it was meant to be seen. Jaye slept on the couch, wrapped in various towels, old blankets and couch pillows, Joseph slept in his bed.

            That morning the two woke up and ran to the window. The landscape was beautiful. Icy white snow sat undisturbed across the land, pine trees were decorated with Christmas lights and the fall colors had disappeared. Red, green, white and blue colors dotted the landscape and both friends agreed that this was the one day of the year it was nice to not see fall colors.

            The day moved on, Joseph and Jaye had breakfast then went to their families houses, exchanged gifts, saw old friends and had hot chocolate. Jaye had an unpleasant surprise when he found that the bad luck fish was sitting in a fish bowl in his parent’s living room. The bad luck fish was a talking fish that brought misfortune to all as long as they were around him. Jaye kept his visit short and on his way out from his families house he threw the bad luck fish and his fish bowl out in the river. Jaye then slipped on ice and busted his lip.

            Joseph ran into a yeti named Horrus and met Horrus’ children, all twenty-seven of them. Joseph saw his family, had dinner, played in the snow, and was thrown into a snow bank by one of Horrus’ children. Good times were had by all.

            Joseph returned home tired but happy. As he approached his house he saw Jaye walking toward him over the horizon. Jaye looked injured, tired and happy. The two friends went into the house. Joseph lit a fire in his fireplace. Jaye made some eggnog with what eggnog they had remaining. “Can I use that private stock rum of yours?” Jaye called from the Kitchen. “Yes! That would be great. No pumpkin creamer in mine please” Joseph called back. The two began to laugh.

            The two friends sat in front of a crackling fire and sipped on their very alcoholic eggnog. “So strong!” Joseph said as he took a sip. Jaye laughed “well we had more rum than we had eggnog” He replied. “Nah, its ok. I like it.” Joseph said. Jaye smiled as if remembering something “Did I ever tell you the time I was in college and we were all about to leave for the holiday break. I went to the cafeteria to get some food on the last day and the lady serving the food goes ‘I can’t wait to get home and get some bourbon and eggnog’. I didn’t even know her or say anything, she just said it out loud” Jaye said. “Weird” Joseph replied. “Yeah, it was” Jaye said. The two friends sighed.

            That year might not have been perfect and Christmas eve and Christmas day wasn’t perfect, but despite the ups and downs of the season, Joseph Stephens and Jaye Williams thought it was certainly the best Christmas Ever.

The Duel on Wolf Peak

            The winter festival was fast approaching, it was a time to celebrate and eat one last big meal before the harshness of deep winter set in. All throughout the land people would hang colorful lanterns, cook delicious roasts with herbs and eat the last fresh vegetables of the year. The approaching months would be a time to preserve and conserve on food and resources so the winter festival was seen as a bright, colorful and loud firework in the sky before the dead of night set in. To the people living in the town of Wolf Peak it was one of the biggest holidays of the year. Wolf Peak was located in the White Mountains and the White Mountains had the harshest winds and coldest winters in all of the land. By the middle of winter Wolf Peak would be completely trapped by snow and deadly winds. The towns in the low lands could leave their house and even travel in an emergency if they had to. The people of Wolf Peak were confined to the town, cut off from the rest of the world for three months.

            During the Winter Festival people would prepare for the long winter ahead or just leave town and head for the lowlands, where the winters were shorter and less severe. The only saving grace that Wolf Peak had was the shelter of the Respite caves. Long tunnels and man made caves that bore deep into the mountain were known as the Respite caves, the town of Wolf Peak was built inside of the caves. Villagers wouldn’t be snowed into their houses but they were completely trapped inside of the mountain. The villagers who lived in Wolf Peak all year had a close bond with each other. After a year of relying on your neighbor you start to see your neighbor as a brother or sister.

            Soft music echoed out from the town and warm lights could be see shining in the Respite caves. People were celebrating, preparing for the night of the Winter Festival and preparing for the long winter afterward. While most celebrated there were those who had other matters that needed their attention. In such a peaceful and joyous time there were those who insisted on fighting.

Clashing swords rang out through the mountains, two men stood facing each other in a duel to the death. The bitter cold winds of the White Mountain Pass blew through the combatants but they both stood unmoving. One fighter was wearing all black armor, a black helmet that was rounded at the top and came to a point in the front, a long red scarf wrapped tightly around the neck, carried a long sword and shield and had a battle axe on his back. The first fighter was known as the Vanguard and had more than a few legends.

            The second fighter was known as Sir Gregory Andrews, a former knight who apposed his king and was thrown out of the castle and stripped of his honor and title. Sir Andrews was more recently known as Gregory the knight mercenary. Sir Gregory Andrews had medium length messy brown hair. A trimmed goatee that was starting to grow out and looked like it hadn’t been maintained in a few weeks. He wore silver armor that he owned from his days as a knight, the armor used to shine brightly like a star but it hadn’t been cleaned or polished in a while. Gregory used to have a helmet but the King had taken it away because it had the Kingdom seal on it. Even though his kingdom branded him a traitor he still tried to be noble in everything he did but also needed to eat and many of Sir Andrews’ deeds had not been noble as of late. Gregory knew the Vanguard was wanted by the king and figured if he captured the black armored villain then his good name would be restored and the King might even forgive him for all that treason stuff.

            Few people knew why the Vanguard was a wanted criminal and even less knew who the Vanguard even was. Sir Andrews didn’t care though, he needed to return to his noble statues and was running out of ways to get back on the King’s good side. Gregory charged at the Vanguard with his two handed sword, Gregory’s dirt covered silver armor clanked against the stone with every step.  The Vanguard did not react to Gregory’s sudden charge, the dark night just stood like a statue, firm and unwavering. Sir Andrews swung his sword, swinging it downward with all of his strength. The Vanguard moved with unnatural speed moments before the sword struck his armor. The Vanguard moved out of the way and in one motion slammed his shield into Gregory’s chest. The blow from the shield struck with such force that it knocked Gregory off of his feet and sent him backward into the snow.

            Gregory struggled to get to his feet as he clutched his chest and tried to breath again. The strike was so strong that Sir Andrews was lucky he didn’t have internal bleeding. “Why do you wish to fight me?” Asked the Vanguard, his voice echoed through his helmet and sounded almost inhuman. “I need to bring your head to my King. You are a villain with a price on your head” Gregory said as he held his sword up again. “I am wanted in many kingdoms, but I am not a villain. I do not want to kill you, but I will defend myself. If your honor commands you to slay me then you risk your life in trying to do so” The Vanguard said as he sheathed his sword, tied his shield to his back and pulled his two handed axe from its holster on his back.

            Sir Andrews held his sword tightly, he didn’t want to keep fighting, he felt out matched by this nightmare of a knight, but he couldn’t live another day as a mercenary. “If I kill you my honor will be restored, I cannot live without my honor. I won’t live another day as a dog” Said Andrews as he charged again. He swung his sword downward like before and the Vanguard crouched down to start a counter attack, knowing that the Vanguard would counter Gregory didn’t put all of his weight into his sword like last time and instead brought his knee up as his sword came down. The Vanguard tried to react but was kneed in the head. Gregory was able to bring his sword down on the now dazed Vanguard. The sacrifice was that his sword slash was not as powerful as it normally would have been.

            The Vanguard tumbled backward into the snow with a fresh slash in his armor. “Your supposed ‘honor’ binds you to your king like a dog. The kingdoms hate me because I am truly free. I have honor, I spare the weak and I do not resort to cheap tricks, but I am hated because I do not let others use my honor to chain me down” The Vanguard said, his words rang out, echoing with each word. The words stung Sir Andrews as he thought back to the things he did to survive all the while hoping to regain the King’s favor and his precious honor. “Enough talk, I will finish you here and now!” Gregory said as he stabbed his sword down on the Vanguard who was starting to stand back up.

            The Vanguard couldn’t react fast enough and the sword plunged through the shoulder joint in the armor were there was little protection. The Vanguard’s armor had weak spots and joints in it for increased mobility. The weakness in the Vanguard’s armor had been exploited and blood dripped from the shoulder joint and down the Vanguard’s hand as his blood spilled out through his armor. “So you are a man after all. So many stories were told of you being a demon or a specter that haunted a suit of armor” Said Sir Gregory with triumph.

            The Vanguard’s armor began to glow and pulsing red light vibrated from the black metal plates. Gregory stepped back as the Vanguard stood up. “I am none of those things. What I am, is your death” Said the Vanguard, his voice echoing from his helmet in a rage. Icy wind blew over the two combatants and the snow began to blow in from the north. The winter storms were growing more intense and if the battle lasted much longer both the Vanguard and Gregory would freeze to death.

            The Vanguard took off his helmet and threw it into the snow. Gregory Andrews was take back by what he saw. The Vanguard lifted his axe with one hand as his other arm lay limp. Before Gregory could react the Vanguard had moved forward four feet in a blink and was mid attack. Gregory only blinked once and then saw the Vanguard raising his axe into the air and then down onto Sir Gregory’s shoulder. The axe slashed through Sir Andrews’ armor and cut a chunk into his shoulder, upper torso and ribcage. Sir Gregory Andrews coughed up blood and stared at the Vanguard with a hazy vision.

            A woman with jet black hair, burning red eyes and skin as white as the snow stared at Gregory with intense hatred. “You lived like a dog, chained to your master. Now this is where you die, cold, alone and forgotten” Said the Vanguard, her gaze harsher than the winter winds of the White Mountain. The Vanguard picked up her helmet, placed it back onto her head and walked off, blood dripping from her arm and leaving a trail behind her. Soon she disappeared into the wind and snow of the mountain and Sir Gregory was left alone. Blood poured from his wounds and he began to lose consciousness. Faint music was heard from the town of Wolf Peak and Gregory smiled. The Winter Festival was starting and Gregory wondered were he would be right now if he hadn’t chased after the King’s favor like mad dog.

            Gregory closed his eyes, music played softly like a lullaby and then soon faded. The sound of the wind disappeared and the cold could no longer be felt.  The Winter Festival was fast approaching and everyone was busy celebrating.