So the Immortal Warrior Rentach Seld bellowed unto the hounds of fire, "Lo and behold, you dogs of Brimstone Pit, in the name of the God of War Raiken and the God of Eternal Life Lortus, these human hands shall send you back to the pit you were spawned from. And he swung his hammer so mightily, that it hit the earth and the earth cracked and split. While the hapless hounds that had eaten the world shrieked and whined as they fell into the split and swallowed up by the will of Felantris, the Goddess of the Earth. The Warrior King Ferenath Orinias answered his companion's cry with his own thunderous bellow and it so struck fear into the hounds that they paused and was gloriously frozen where they stood by the God-Mage Ulneric with the raw magic that was forgotten by all but the gods. By the power granted to him by the Goddess of Magic Verinea, he smashed the hounds' icy prison with the great hammer of light from the heavens, the Arc Folfonas Verineas, and turned them into dusts that could never be revived. Crown or Tiara Chapter 10 By Shinieris

---

 

So the Immortal Warrior Rentach Seld bellowed unto the hounds of fire, "Lo and behold, you dogs of Brimstone Pit, in the name of the God of War Raiken and the God of Eternal Life Lortus, these human hands shall send you back to the pit you were spawned from. And he swung his hammer so mightily, that it hit the earth and the earth cracked and split. While the hapless hounds that had eaten the world shrieked and whined as they fell into the split and swallowed up by the will of Felantris, the Goddess of the Earth.

The Warrior King Ferenath Orinias answered his companion's cry with his own thunderous bellow and it so struck fear into the hounds that they paused and was gloriously frozen where they stood by the God-Mage Ulneric with the raw magic that was forgotten by all but the gods. By the power granted to him by the Goddess of Magic Verinea, he smashed the hounds' icy prison with the great hammer of light from the heavens, the Arc Folfonas Verineas, and turned them into dusts that could never be revived.

And the Great Huntress of the Wilderness, Melmeris Greenhair would not lose to her victorious companions. With the speed of the Goddess of the Hunt Felantris herself, she let loose arrows after arrows, blessed by the Archpriest Yurunel chosen of Asteridas the Goddess of Healing herself, into the scores of the approaching hounds. So powerful was her draw that even the wind from her arrow's passing stripped the hounds of their flesh, leaving their diseased guts and dark heart exposed to the elements.

Then the celebrated, most pious, Priest of the Burning Will, Yasashar of Menosh, invoked the words of power, taught to him by the Goddess of Perseverance Galganis and the Holy Goddess Asteridas and banished the remaining hounds back to their masters in Halla.

Excerpt from Scholar Falmis's Legend of The Sundering, translated from an earlier Ormoran text.

------

"My soles are starting to blister, Mikhal," Princess Feska whined as she rubbed her toes.

"We need to keep going, Feska. It can't be that much farther," Prince Mikhalir said to his little sister as he helped her get back on her feet.

"And what if this maze runs through all of Vel-Farnikk? I'm tired of having to run."

"We wouldn't even have to run if you hadn't insisted on stopping by every 'possible dead' creatures to gather something from their 'possibly dead' bodies."

"Hey, don't blame me! How was I to know he was still alive?"

"Poking a troll with a sharp dagger is always a bad idea, Feska. It doesn't matter if he was alive or dead."

"I had to try. Do you know how rare fresh troll bone marrow, canines, fat and heart muscles are? Even the dried and crushed ones costs a fortune in the open market. I could make even more effective Strongarm, Barkskin, Swiftness and Berserk potions with fresh ones."

"Wait, hold it. You said Strongarm, Barkskin and Swiftness potions were all made from trolls?

"Why yes, Strongarm requires extracts of troll bone marrow and crushed scorched troll muscles. Barkskin requires crushed scorched troll muscles and troll fat. Swiftness requires liquified troll fat so-"

"Please stop. I think I'm going to throw up."

"Oh come on, they're dead. And it's not like you're committing cannibalism. They're not human."

"Now that you mention it, is there any alchemical potion that uses any part of human body?"

"Well, there are a few. Such as Compassion, that requires the blood of a loving mother who recently gave birth. Ahanri's Intuition requires a small amount of fresh human brain added to the brains of a swallow, a raccoon and a deer in equal parts. I know a few more, but I can't think of any at the moment."

The prince gagged. "I need to start asking alchemists what their potions were made of before I bought them from now on."

"Oh it's totally fine. These were taken with permission. As for the brain, their families are handsomely paid for it. All alchemical regents of human origin requires a certificate before it can be sold. It is against Grandvaylian law to sell anything of human origin that was taken without permission and without a certificate proving that permission was given."

"I need to find a place to throw up. Excuse me please," the crown prince said as he turned around the corner and threw up the remainder of his dinner.

------

"So what's the story about?" asked a serving girl in short red gown and matching ribbons in her long dark hair as she placed a cup of steaming coffee on the table.

"A secret princess," Seo grinned as he took a sip from his cup.

"Oh, how does it go?" the girl asked.

"A young princess gets locked up in a tower by her brothers. Her brothers go to war, captured by the enemy, and her mother released her so she can go save her brothers. In the end, the girl saves her brothers and goes off to marry a prince from a faraway land and lives happily ever after," Seo said as he turned back to his writing.

"Oh that sounds exciting. Will it have fairy godmothers?"

"What? No, why would it?" Seo raised his head, confused.

"Will it have elves then?"

"Likely not!"

"How about trolls, or leprechauns. Or witches that eats children?"

"I don't see why it should be-"

"Ah! Wizards! It should have wizards! And a magic carpet, or at least a magic broom? How about a lamp..." the girl droned on as she walked back to the kitchen, not caring that nobody actually bothered to listen to her.

Seo instead crumpled the paper he was writing on and put them on one side of the table. "I forgot this is just for a tavern play," he said as he started on a new piece, putting great care in including fairy godmothers, elves, witches and magic brooms into the story.

------

"So... what are we looking for, actually?"

"Some treasures perhaps?"

The princess laughed, reminding the prince of an elven song he had heard while entering Velena's childhood home of Hsinnah.

"How old are you, really? You expect to find treasures while exploring a dungeon?" Feska laughed again.

"Shh," Mikhal took a sniff.

"What?" Feska asked.

"Did you smell that?"

"The sewer? Yes, definitely. How could I not, Mikhal?"

"No... I mean... nevermind. Watch your steps, Feska."

Annoyed, Feska said,"I always watch my steps, Mikhal."

"Good, stay behind me. Get your Flame Breath ready."

"Why? Something wrong?" she asked as she took out a thumb-sized vial containing a bluish liquid from the fold of her belt.

"Yes, keep close," Mikhal said as he turned left at the T junction.

They walked a bit further and noticed about the same time that the walls became cleaner and covered in carvings of things and writings that looked like it had been there for a very long time. Mikhal moved his torch nearer to one part of the wall. With that part now more visible, he studied the drawings and writings carved there.

"Can you read this, Mikhal?" Feska inquired as she came close and examined the wall herself. She assumed these were some kind of writings, but she had never seen any forms of writings using these squiggly lines.

"These forms," he pointed to the squiggly lines, "Resembles much of today's elven script, save for a few words I can't make out, probably words that are no longer in use and has been discarded."

"You can read elven?"

"Yes, one of my... associates... was an outcast elf. Learned a lot from her. Anyway, the rest of these letters, are a form of cuneiform of which our current Ormoran letters are derived from."

"Can you read it?"

"I can read a little of the elven script, but the Sidaran cuneiform is totally unknown to me. I can only read Strothon cuneiform, you see, and Sidaran cuneiform and Strothon... are you OK, Feska?"

Feska looked like she was about to faint. "Not OK. I just heard a lot of words that made what you said a total gibberish."

Mikhal sighed. "Theri did tell me that aside from alchemy, your education is lacking everything else. Okay, the letters that we use currently is called Ormoran, originating from an old city, which is now a ruin, called Ormor, which was supposedly the first city that stood after the calamity following the events now known as Fall of the Old Gods, from which our current dating system starts. You with me so far?"

Feska nodded.

"Now Sidar, is our continent, the place where our Granvayl Kingom stands. Lestraux, where I went to study for five years of my life is in another continent, called Stroth. Anything of Sidar, is called Sidaran. Anything of Stroth, is called Strothon. Now cuneiform is-"

"I know what cuneiform is. So what does it say exactly, Mikhal?"

"Now that's a little harder to say. I can say that the cuneiform here suggests that this wall was carved before the era of Grandis Empire."

"But didn't the Grandis Empire use cuneiform too?"

"Correct, but we know that the Grandis Empire had scribes that ensured high standard of grammar. There was no grammar here. It's like the person who carved this cared little for grammar. The same can't be said for the elven script. From the workmanship, I can conclude that it was carved by the same person, but I doubt this person was literate in both cuneiform and elven script. I also doubt that it was an elf who carved this because elves don't work with stone or rocks of any kind."

"I'm sorry, I didn't know any of that. Frankly, your nerdiness scares me. How can you tell all of this? I thought you can't read the cuneiform?"

"Explaining will take too long. Suffice to say I'm a genius, and I have reason to believe that this wall has been here for more than 6000 years."

"6000 years? Now wait a minute. You're saying that this wall has been here more than 4000 years Before Founding? 4000 years before the first and second king of the Meriseles Dynasty conquered Eastern Sidar and formed Granvayl Empire?"

"Yes, that was what I meant, Feska."

"But following the ancient texts, that would put it earlier than the creation of humankind by the Old God Granlain. If so then who'd carve it? You said yourself that it wasn't elves, Mikhal."

Mikhal chuckled. "The ancient texts are rarely true and never accurate. They were nothing more than ancient literature, dear sister."

"That's blasphemous, Mikhal. Granlain may have been an evil god, but the Voices of Granlain has been accepted by most temples as 'historical'."

The prince walked up to a large door at the end of the decorated tunnel and tried to push it open, with no luck.

"Are you listening to me, Mikhal?"

"Of course. You must think of their position, Voices of Granlain and other ancient texts were the only recollections from that period. We know that none of the victorious gods, apart from Festiciol, had any books older than 3000 years old, which was about the time when Eastern Sidar was repopulated by humans. This following the sudden disappearance of humans about 4500 years ago. If they don't have any answers for what happened thousands of years ago, how can they convince worshippers that the gods they preach of are real?" Mikhal answered while tapping on the large double stone door.

"That is a dangerous way of rationalizing it, Mikhal," Feska remarked.

The prince ignored her. He continued to push at the door with all his might. When it became clear to him that the door would not open, he stopped and wandered about in front of the door. He looked up and down, left and right, even the floor under him and still could not find any other means of opening the door.

All this was not lost to the princess. Feska leaned slightly beside her brother and taunted, "My big bad godless brother can't open a door now?"

"Quiet, Feska. I'm trying to find a hidden lever," the prince said as he started touching the carvings on the wall.

"Seriously?"

"Yes, I've seen these kinds of things before. Why don't you be a little more useful and start searching the other wall?" Mikhal said without looking back.

"You're talking as if I haven't done anything. Have you forgotten who defeated the undead spectres?"

"Shh, don't talk of them, they'll hear you."

"Fine, give me the torch."

"Ah no, this torch stays with me. Find your own light."

"Do you see any other torch here?"

"You have Fae Fyre, use that."

"Using Fae Fyre as a light source is an insult to good alchemy."

"Typical alchemist superstition. I'm not giving you my torch."

The princess growled. "Fine! Have it your way," she took out a vial filled with a bluish liquid at the bottom and a yellow dust with a thin layer of white dust between them apparently floating on the liquid and shook it vigorously. The two liquids resisted mixing, but where it mixed, it glowed with greenish light. Using the flat bottom of the vial to focus the direction of the light, Feska pointed it at the wall and started searching for the hidden lever.

"You carry Daemon Fyre around? That's very dangerous, my dear sister," the prince said without even looking at her.

"Oh, you know Daemon Fyre? I didn't know it can be found in Lestraux," she replied, also not looking back.

"Oh it can't. I just know of someone who was very fond of Daemon Fyre and regularly used it to incinerate living orcs and laughing with glee at the act," Mikhal answered without looking back.

"One of our cousins?" Feska asked also without looking back

"No, someone you wouldn't expect," Mikhal answered, still not looking back.

"That's not right," Feska turned around now, "Daemon Fyre is House Arnan's special recipe. We are the only ones who can create Daemon Fyre and we don't sell it to anyone."

"Because it's dangerous? Because of its ability to burn forever and incinerate anything it touches?"

"Not forever," she said, annoyed, "Just a few weeks."

"To the one on the receiving end, it wouldn't matter, Feska."

"Ohhh, this is getting nowhere!" she threw her hands in the air. She squatted down in front of the door and locating a fairly clean surface, poured a vial of powder and a quarter vial of some crystals before mixing them together with her bare hands. Then she took out two more vials, one filled with a murky, whitish liquid and another filled with a clear yellowish liquid and emptied both into the mix. She mixed them together carefully and slowly, kneading it for at least ten minutes until it turned into a doughlike stuff. Then she shaped it into a brick and pasted it onto the stone door.

Feska took out an empty vial, poured one part brimstone and two parts mercury into the empty vial until it was a little over halfway full and shook the mixture slowly, turning the vials as soon as she saw the bubbles settle. Then she pushed the stoppard pat of the vial deep into the doughlike brick and backed off. She grabbed her brother's sleeve and pulled as she started running.

"Feska?" the prince inquired.

"Nothing, just needed to get out of the area."

"What? I'm going back. Even if I can't find a hidden lever, at least I can study that wall. It must be the find of a lifetime."

"Okay, let me say this straight. If we're actually there, we will die, in more than a few pieces. Now get behind the wall," she pushed him a little rougher than she intended.

"Die?" Mikhal raised an eyebrow, which Feska didn't notice in the dark.

Feska rummaged under the folds of her belt and took out a vial glowing a dull red light. "Mikhal?" she waited until he turned to look at her, "Throw this for me?" she pushed the vial into his hands.

"What's this?" he asked as he examined the liquid inside the vial.

"Devil's Gaze. Shake it and throw it at the door," she said as she ran further away, "I can't do it myself, my hands are quite explosive right now. Try to throw it right in front of the door."

The prince shrugged, gave the vial a good shake and threw it at the door. Nothing could have prepared him for the flash of red light and the resulting explosion that rocked the whole labyrinth. He had to cover his head to avoid from being injured by the pieces of rocks from the ceiling.

When everything calmed down, Feska came forward and peeked around the wall the prince was hiding behind. Looking at the door, she examined the destruction, a gaping whole where the thick door used to be and exclaimed, "Perfect!"

The prince also looked around the corner, saw the destruction and shook his head as he said, "You are one crazy girl."

She lightly punched him in the arm. "This crazy girl is your sister!"

------

Prince Altherion was sound asleep, dreaming of proposing to Lady Myra of Tesledhar when he was rudely thrown out of bed. He woke up immediately, got up thinking it was an earthquake and was about to run outside when it stopped. He tried to go back to sleep again, but failed. So he went to his reading room and spent the rest of the night reading 'A Revised Treaty On Battlefield Courtesy'.

*Wow, it's been a very long time since I've posted here. It seems like the last posting I've made was the previous christmas. Sorry guys, I was working 6 days a week 18 hours a day, that when I got home, I just wanted to lie down and die. I stuck with it for a year until I realized that I didn't have much time and resigned. Will try to write more soon, but I'll need to regain my passion for writing. I guess I wasn't kidding when I told him that I had lost my soul working there, even for the triple raise I got working with them. Now I just need to find something to do other than hoping my business gets off the ground.

As always, please read and if possible, give me some feedback. Praises helps me recover my motivation, but constructive criticisms will no doubt improve my skills. Thank you very much.