Terres Rebirth

Winter has just released its icy hold on the world of Terres. Naturos's winter plants have died out to make way for the ones that thrive in the spring, and the ice and snow in Drakkos has thawed out, with the plants growing slowly but surely to restore the lush jungle. The oceans were calm by the will of the Trident Wielder. Despite tensions amongst the races of Terres, everything is currently peaceful across the land, so long as the plans of one Tod Hallfier of Hommos do not come to fruitation.

Tod closed the tome he was reading, another tale of The Moon Hunter, a mysterious entity he'd come to despise, when one of his servants walked into his chamber.

"Sir," he began, "I've just received the news. The people of Earth have elected you as their leader. It is time for your acceptance speech." Tod cracked a devilish grin.

"Perfect," he said. The Conference Hall was not too far from where Tod lived, and he walked there. There were people flowing out into the streets to watch him, eager to see what he'd have to say. He walked to the back of the building and went through the back door, onto the stage. As he emerged from the curtains, people cheered and roared cacophonously. Once the crowd died down, Tod began,

"People of Earth, I am happy to serve as your new leader. Now that I am in power, there are things that need to be done. As I've said before, the impure races of the other continents must be purged. They are vile, evil beings. Though many of you are unaware, I have near encyclopedic knowledge of the history of these creatures. Have any of you heard of the name Zimon?" Tod took a moment as the people voiced their ignorance, and he continued.

"Zimon, better known as the Moon Hunter, was nothing short of an intruder. He sailed to our home from Naturos and began the wanton murder of many humans, including the Man of Stone, a noble savage from the Hoghead tribe in the south of Hommos. After his death, the Bloodsucker took control of the tribes. Zimon killed one of our kind so that another monster like him could take over! Are we going to stand for this madness? Are we going to allow another monster take control of a province of Hommos? The human's land?" The crowd shouted in anger and disgust. Tod went on,

" The scum of Naturos aren't the only transgressors of the human race, either. What of the sailors that we have lost at sea near the shores of Drakkos and Diablos? Although it is unknown what exactly happens in Diablos, it is clear that the monsters are trying to get rid of us. Unfriendly savages that do not want us in their land. However, I do know what plagues us east of here." Tod took a moment for the crowd to soak that in, and continued,

"Edward Vamilac. An unusual seafaring creature, inhabits the shores of Drakkos. though he may not look it, he is one of them. He is a sailor's nightmare. The heartless cretin destroys our ships and leaves our sailors to drown. We must take that abomination off the face of our planet!" As the crowd shouted agreement, Tod's demeanor grew more aggressive.

"These atrocities have proven time and time again that they are not worthy of inhabiting this world, one rightfully belonging to humans! The other nations of Hommos are blind to their evil, and it is our sole duty to stop them! We will send fleets of battleships, equipped with cannonballs and harpoons, to the waters of Diablos and Drakkos to defeat the beasts guarding the lands! We will send ships full of warriors and pillagers to invade Naturos and Nainnos and wipe them of the inhuman menace! Earth shall prevail!" The crowd went nuts, and Tod cantered off the stage.

The military leaders took what Tod had said as an order, and the ships were sent out to sea, ready to destroy whatever was in their wake. Because of the distance between regions, the ships would take about a week to arrive at their destinations.

Northwest Naturos; Near Blackrock Tribe

If you was in the forests below the cliff, you'd see a lone figure standing atop the ledge. You would see a dark figure, one which seemed ominous and mysterios. He had a slight slump in his stature from age, and his eyes shone brightly green.

This figure was Zimon, The Moon Hunter. A Dark Elf from the Blackrock Tribe. He had traveled the world once before, but that was long ago. At the moment, he was clothed in his black robes and bandanna. His weapons and armor was back at his tribe, unneeded at the moment.

He was overlooking the forest beneath him, watching the movement of the leaves, listening to the songs of the birds, and creak of the branches. It was early spring, so the wintry coolness still blew in the air. It was refreshing. The sun was rising, and painted the sky orange, however as you scanned the sky you would see it turn to purple, then to blue. Clouds were in the sky, some of them dark.

He was pondering, pondering all the possibilities of the world. Of his travels, he still had two lands left to explore. Shadow Isle, land of the spirits, what wonders could live there? Or even Diablos, home of the mists? What was the underneath the mists? Even still, the places he had visited long before may have newer challenges and knowledge to explore. Who had replaced the Man of Stone? What new monsters disturbed the Dwarves? What new heroes stood up for the Drakkos Reptiles?

"Zimon, are you fine? The Moon Gods seems to shun you from their luminosity tonight." Zimon turned from the cliff, he spotted a dark elven female, Ziara the Priestess. She was a beautiful woman, however Zimon had no love interest in her, she was a reliable and caring friend. She had light blue skin, with dark blue eyes. Her black hair hung down to her waist, however she wore it in a ponytail. She was slim, like every Dark Elf on Naturos.

"I am fine. And I do not care nor worry that the Moon Gods shun me. Let them. Am I not the only one who defies them and their kind?" Zimon had no interest in 'religion' or gods. He believed in them, but did not worship them. He believed he himself could one day become a God. Perhaps Shadow Isle held the answers?

Ziara, shocked, responded, "Zimon! You should not speak of the Gods as you do. It is they who give us strength, our power, they who give us life. They shun you for how you treat them, and what you've done. To think a child can fight his own maker!"

"Well then tell me this beautiful Priestess, why shun me if I am what I am? What other Dark Elf has achieved what I have achieved? The humans, the dwarves, even the reptiles all revere me as a warrior, an assassin, a hunter, a monstrosity. I am what nightmares are made of Priestess." Ziara shook her head, and turned to walk off.

When she was gone, Zimon pulled a booklet from his robe. It already looked old, he had written three pages already. He pulled his ink utensil out, and began writing the fourth entry.


-----Entry #4-----
Ziara doubts my power. She does not understand the stories she always heard when growing up, even she feels that the Moon Gods have shunned me. Am I overestimating myself, I wonder? I am a mere elf, not a God.

I have no worry of Gods though. Soon , I plan on speaking with the Blackrock Tribe Chieftan, in hopes he will agree to tribute resources, warriors, and explorers to my future expedition. Shadow Isle longs for my arrival, and soon I shall begin planning.

The time draws near, however I have a long way to go. A long way to go if I truly desire to became the God I want to be.

A school of fish, seemingly peaceful in it's slow swimming was suddenly broken. a human hand snatched on of the school with great presicion, one of the adults in the school, and wrenched it from the waves, scattering the rest of the fish every which way. The owner of the hand merely laughed and he swallowed the still flailing fish whole. How he loved his reptilian lineage. The male surfaced with a content "Ahh..." escaping his lips to see a pair of mischeivious lizardboys trying to carry his poleaxe from the shore.

The adult burst from the waters so suddenly that the lizardboys froze with fear, yet the adult merely flew up to them on large draconic wings, "Nifalc and Tifalc. How many times do I have to tell you," he paused to dismiss the poleaxe, then summon it into his own hand, "That you can't stel my weapon, nor claim to be as badass as someone who's kept Drakkos free from the child races?"

Nifalc (whose only diference from his brother, Tifalc, was that Nifalc had a small scar over his left eyebrow, thanks to their first theft attempt) quickly stammered, "Sorry Mister Vamilac!"

"I've also told you just to call me Edward. Mister sounds too formal for someone that cannot traverse the land and feel it's bumps the way you do," Edward sighed. The young are soooooo tiring! was added mentally.

"But mother tells us to call you Mister Vamilac because you're so renown!" Tifalc moaned.

"No buts. You can tell your mother that I've allowed you to call me Edward."

"Thanks Edward!" They chorused before Tifalc added, "How do we become as badass as you?"

"Do you have clothing or hair that flows in the wind?" Edward asked.

"Nope!" The two answered

"That's rule 1. Rule two is to have a bigass weapon that an adult woul nomally have trouble lifting the same way as me, onehanded."

"Cool! We'll start on our strength then!" The two ran off, leaving Edward at the shore alone again.

"You'll also need balls of steel, and a fuckin' good constitution." he added when they were out of earshot, before diving back into the water. While he didn't mind the air, he preferred to rest under the waves... less conspicuous.

Zimon had left the cliff he was standing upon earlier. He was headed towards his clan's tribe, of the Blackrock Elves. The tribe was built similar to all other elven tribes. Their was a central clearing, with various homes built around it. The buildings was made of wood and stone, however the more primitive folk used sticks, branches, and leaves for their homes. Then, paths branched off from the clearing, heading to other small clearings and maybe even a military outpost, where warriors trained.

Zimon entered Chief Zeleron's home, which was larger than most. Zeleron watched over the Blackrock Tribe, and in turn was watched over by the higher King Stehlik. Inside, their was several guards, the Shaman, and Priestess Ziara, whom was speaking to the Chief.

Zeleron smiled at Zimon, and Ziara turned to face him as well. "Ah, Zimon, I am glad you could make it. It is good the Moon Gods did not kill you on the way here." He laughed at what he said, Zimon was silent.

Zimon bowed at Zeleron, nodded at the others, and spoke, "Hello Chief Zeleron. I have a... proposition to ask you. It deals with traveling, adventures, secrets, and Spirits."

Zeleron laughed again, amused by the old sage's tales. "Zimon, you're getting to old for that kind of stuff -"

"I am as powerful as I always was, do not underestimate me Zeleron."

"And you do not overestimate yourself Zimon. So cool down, and tell me what you want to ask." Zeleron sat up to listen to Zimon more intently. Ziara did not look at Zimon, ignoring him.

"Shadow Isle houses some of the greatest secrets known to the world. As you know, it is one of two places I have yet to traverse... and I wish to go there. I however, need some warriors to take with me. I need warriors, healers, and guides with me. I need my own ship, perhaps two, maybe more."

Zeleron thought, very long, and very hard about the question. It seemed like ages before he spoke. "Alright... okay then Zimon, sure. I will give you few soldiers, but only few - I cannot risk sending our troops away to Shadow Isle. Perhaps you may head South? Find more recruits to go with you."

Zimon smiled, and cheerfully replied "Thank you, thank you so much Zeleron." Zimon looked over at Ziara, then said "Ziara, I would like your company, would you mind coming with me to Shadow Isle?"

Ziara had a saddened expression over her face, "Oh Zimon... I don't know, I'm a Priestess, not a fighter... sorry Zimon." Zimon looked at the ground, but then bowed to her, the Chief, the Shaman, the guards, and left the building. He headed for the War Halls, where his crew would be formed.

The winds blew softly on the northern shore of Hommos, on the outskirts of the grand kingdom Grantrainnos. Prince Baldur was kind, but even one as he could not reunite the Hommos divisions. On a cliff facing towards Naturos, a lone figure sat with on leg out and the other folded in. He kept one arm rested on his leg, and the other on the grass. He looked out at the ocean...

The ocean was unnaturally calm, especially in the rough patch of ocean he visited often. When he used a powerful spell, he could just see the coast of Naturos. But now, he merely looked out. But... He saw ships. They looked ominous, as though ready to kill. He shrugged; when it became his buisiness, he would care. He then summoned a canteen full of ale to him. He took a swig, "One to me," and poured the rest out, as well as dropping the container, "A few for you." It wasn't the first time he had done something similar.

Then, the man got up. He turned on heel, and walked towards Grantrainnos. It wasn't long before he came across his gray horse, and mounted it. As he rode on, he looked at the forest. Closer to the city, he found his camp, and got off his horse. He got closer, and blue flames erupted from the logs in front of his tent. He sighed and walked into the city, the flames dying. He just wandered into the city, and looked idly around. He had promised to find his father, no matter how long it took. It was difficult, as his father could be anywhere, any time. But he was Aaeci Terraxon, and he always delivered on his promises.

As the sun rose spreading its light onto the blue canvas sky, and grasping everything in its warm hug, an Elven maiden sang. Her beautiful blond hair shone in the sun. Her graceful steps of dance enthralled all who lay their eyes on her. Her divine skin shimmered from the rising sun. Among the many elegant faces watching the performance, one stood out greatly. It was a dark face, a deep dark blue-black face, but beneath the darkness peered golden eyes. The righteousness of past good coming out of the evil. Into the dark one's mind came a harsh sound, breaking the enchantment of the song. Light, we have to go.

Light Varach shrugged off the disturbance, It would be rude to walk out on such a performance.

They know of your commitment, argued the large arachnid stalking outside of the Elves gathered in a circle.

Hmm, alright. Light stood up, luckily he was near the back, and would not cause too much of a disturbance. He managed his way through the crowd having to say "Excuse me brother," a few times. Outside the circle he greeted the spider with a silent nod, and began the walk to the other side of the village. The two silently conversed with their minds as they walked.

I still don't think that was right Arachuna.

It is what it is. The Elves have forgiveness, besides you should have known that today was your day for the watch... I have been listening.

Yes, and?

Something is wrong. That was the purpose of their song.

Well I'm no sage, I don't know what the song means. We'll see what happens.

Light and Arachuna had emerged from the village and into the large expanse of open wood. The large forest covered the entire island, and spring flora had begun to pop up, but nothing was in bloom. "The Watch" that Arachuna had mentioned was what it was called, a watch. Atop the tallest tree, in that village's section of the forest, was a small roofed platform. A few Elves would spend the day in the outpost, watching all the land they could see. These where times of bad hatred between all races, raids might come at anytime.

When they had reached the watch tree, Light quickly scurried up it, Arachuna however, stayed on the ground. "You're late, again," said one of the Elves atop the platform when Light jumped onto it.

Light calmly replied with an excuse, "Yes, and for a good reason, my friend."

The Elf still hadn't turned around yet to look at Light, but he raised an eyebrow. "Oh, I see. Enlighten me."

Light walked to the Elf and grabbed his shoulder, "Come on Eormi." It looked as if Eormi, as he was called, was ignoring Light, he stood leaning over the side looking at the whole region underneath him. Suddenly, the Elf turned around and embraced Light. "Good to see you my brother."

The other person on the watchtower who hadn't spoken yet, finally turned their head. "Hey, there is work to be done here." It was a woman, her name was Galaedrief, which completed the trio of friends. The three of them had done everything together while children, so when it became their time to take the watch, they requested that they do it at the same time. Their watch hours usually resulted in Light and Eormi messing around, while Galaedrief scolded them. They always had the least productive watch, it was a mystery why Galaedrief reasoned to put up with them. Her incredible tolerance might be what had enabled them to be such good friends.

Light joined his friends leaning against the short wall. He could see the whole southern tip of the island, and much of the sea beyond. If something does happen soon, let us all be ready.

Zimon and his crew of six soldiers walked through the forests of Northwest Naturos. Earlier, Chief Zeleron had given Zimon some soldiers to take with toe the Shadow Isle. They were all good soldiers in Zimon's eyes, each with their own purposes.

Illian, the Warmonger, was a powerful and heavily equipped Dark Elf, wielding a large longsword and wearing strong armor.

Koras, the Bow-Hunter, was a precise archer who was slim, and very quick. He wore leather armor, light enough to move around easily. His quiver was full of black arrows, and his bow strapped to his back was a black wooden arch - able to fire arrows long distances.

Then the twins, Morril and Knorash. These two were long-time brothers and Warriors. Each one carried dual blades, much like Zimon had, however there's were different. They also wore light armor.

Ayandril, the Caster of the group, was the only female. She was very slim and curvacious, wearing a tight shirt and skirt, with a belt with all sorts of objects on it.

The last, was Neandril, the Warrior-Hunter. Neandril was tall, and had an athletic build. He carried a shield in one hand, and a spear in the other. He rarely spoke, but when he did it was that of wisdom. Zimon sometimes thought he could see his old self in Neandril.

So it was, Zimon and six warriors, as of currently. They was heading south, to the southern shores. Before the team had left however, Priestess Ziara had given Zimon a Telepathic Stone, which allowed the two to translate over large distances.

Be careful when you get to the shores Zimon. The Moon Gods show despair and corruption within the waves. They seem to be coming from the land of Hommos. Just watch out, I would advise you speak to the Watchers on your way, see if they have information.

Zimon replied, Thanks Ziara, I'll keep that in mind.

Aaeci walked among various armored abd clothed figures - knights and citizens of Grantrainnos - who payed him no attention. The only drawback of being invisible was remembering to move out of peoples' way. He walked down a dark alley just before his spell wore off. It would ne a while before he could use the spell again. So, he pulled out his spellbook, flipped to a memorized page, and cast a spell of illumination.

Under the manalight, he would be drained slowly of mana. His features could be seen now, albeit only some of them. He snapped his fingers, and summoned his world map from camp, draining his mana further. He observed it for a long while, using a tracking spell. If his father were in his time, it would be known. But alas, he was not to be found.

But, what he did see, was a single glowing rune in the and of Naturos. There were many runes on his map, and they had all stopped glowing long ago, but this gave him hope.

He waved his hand over the map, and it zoomed in to a more dttailed Naturos. He could see the rune more clearly now; it was one of his portal runes. He had respect for the elven race. Perhaps they had uncovered it? He doubted it. But, what he did know, was that he had a link to Naturos now, and he could leave Grantrainnos after a long spell. That was, if he wished it. And if he did, it would be out of curiosity for those ships...

Edward swam lazily through the coastal waters of Drakkos, but there was something wrong in the pressure, "Suna uv druca vuim taveminc uv dra fyjac? Fro sucd dreo luhdehua du pa cu eteudel?" he asked in his mother-tongue, after identifying the pressure difference.

He called his poleaxe to his hand again then literally flew out of the water to as high as he could stand it... he could only just see the shore of Hommos, and didn't like what he thought he saw leaving it, wood-coloured dots, under a cloud-like white. Metallic gray dotted the wodden dots, but that was all he could make out, "Yr cred!" He shouted before turning and diving down to gain enough momentum. The king needed to be told asap.

Earlier...

Zimon, the Moon Hunter, spent the remainder of his time traveling trying to recruit and bring forces of Naturos together under one united troop near the southern shores - in response to the invading ships nearing the shore.

They had set up camp in the forests away from the shore, building small defenses before moving onto the bigger defenses which they would need later on. The fighter elves were preparing for battle, practicing and getting their aiming just right.

Zimon was part of the Strategy Council set up in the camp. They had some tough warrior elves to match the human advance forces. They also had some specially trained archers ready to support the ground melee troops on the frontlines. They had some other forces hidden away in the forests which would be used to flank the attackers later on.

Currently

Zimon, Neandril, and Knorash had scouted ahead of the camp to the shores, hiding behind a bushy hedge. They were peering at the horizon. Nothing yet. Suddenly, a gray dot popped up on the horizon.

"Deysa ah be comin' aye?" Neandril's deep accent sounded. Zimon looked at him, and nodded.

"Yes... yes they are. I guess the Priestess was right afterall... unfortunately."

Knorash perked up, and said "Well Zimon, at least we have allies behind us... they'll prove useful in the battle. And I do believe you made some good tactics back in the Strategy Council." Knorash, like his brother Morrill, was quick to instantly make up a positive statement.

"Yezzuh, Zimons weally toppa notcha with tha tacticas." Neandril was smiling as he said the words. He was hard to understand, but it did not matter. Neandril was a capable ally, someone who was notable in strength and courage - but not that alone - Neandril was a powerful veteran warrior.

Zimon turned and walked back to the path heading for the camp. "Come on Neandril, Knorash. We should return to our allies, we should wait for the ships to land."

Knorash spoke up, abruptly ending Neandril's next sentence, "But why not surprise the attackers? We can demolish them!"

Zimon was quick to answer, "No, it's hot honorable. If we're fighting for our country, then we will do it for honor, and nobility. We're not savages Knorash... nor runners... we're warriors."

The trio began heading back to the base camp, awaiting the landing of the humans.

"By the gods, what is that thi- AAAGH!" was the last thing heard by the Earthen fleet sent to the shores of Diablos. There were hundreds of ships, and every one was gone by the time they had entered the mist. The other ships, however, had better luck.

The fleet sent to Nainnos boarded on a flat plateau with no life to be seen. The motley soldiers began scaling the mountains to reach the dwarven population.

The fleet sent to Drakkos had orders to split up; half of the boats remained at shore to challenge Edward Vamilac when he surfaced, the rest sailed around the island and boarded from the sides. As the warriors to the sides pillaged the coastal reptilian settlements, the boats awaiting Edward prepared for battle. They loaded the cannons, manned the harpoons, and prepared the warriors that were going into the sea to battle Edward directly.

The ones to sail to Naturos, the second-largest continent on the map, arrived at the southwestern shore.

"It appears that they were expecting us," said the commander of the fleet as he stepped foot on land, observing the elven camp by the shore. The soldiers poured out of the vessels. Some dressed in steel and leather, carrying blades and crossbows. Some adorned in large, ostentatious armor made of gold, with intricate carvings along the edges, carrying huge axes and hammers encrusted with precious gems. Still others wore only the skins and bones of animals, with nothing but stone tomahawks and knives as weaponry. The fleet marched on near the camp, ready for battle.

"We are of the Allied Forces of Hommos. We are here to lay waste to the continent of Naturos. Prepare to die, elven scum," the fleet commander said with contempt as his soldiers marched into the camp.

Then the battles began.

Edward turned midflight and noticed that not all the ships were heading for the shores, "Drao fana aqbaldehk sa?" eh asked himself, before turning his trajectory towards them, "Jano famm! E femm keja dras dra vekrd drao cu vuumecr lnyja!" His poleaxe in hand, he decided to go as fast as he could towads them, more presicely the seas below.

However, when he saw the loadouts on the ships he turned suddenly, hopfully throwing off any aim they had, and sent two tunder strikes heading for the two nearest cannons. "Pa kura, tavemanc uv dra fyjac!" She shouted towards the ships. There was no way he'd ever let humans get away with defileing his part of the shore!

"We are of the Allied Forces of Hommos. We are here to lay waste to the continent of Naturos. Prepare to die, elven scum," the fleet commander said with contempt. The entire bulk of forces that Zimon and his elves had prepared for had finally reached the shores.

They marched upon the camp, a bad mistake instead, here they would face the elven resistance in its full might. Zimon walked out of the camp onto the sands of the shore, facing the Hommos invaders. "Lay waste to Naturos? That wouldn't happen even if the Gods commenced it. We're a noble people, a strong people, daring, bold, and honorable. You were foolish to attack us head-on human. But if you really wish to fight us, then let it happen."

Zimon tossed his hand into the air, and flicked it. After that, a loud horn blew from the forests. A loud yell erupted, and birds flew in all directions. Black Arrows flew from the forests, up high, and then rained down on the Hommos invaders. After a brief struggle, the surviving forces of Hommos, who were well-equipped by shields to deflect the arrows, charged forward to Zimon's position. The elves jumped over the barricade walls, ran out from the woods, and the battle had finally begun.

The humans fought fiercely and with great valor, but was equally matched by the strength, cunning, and skill of the elves. The elven force wasn't as big as the humans to begin with, but that was taken care of by the archers for the most part.

Zimon had retreated back into the walled fort, where archer-snipers aimed for the back of the human forces. Reserve troops waited to be sent out to a flank if one failed. Zimon was readying his volunteer warriors, which his clan chieftan had given him, they were preparing to lead a direct assault on the human forces.

Earlier...

Light Varach stood atop the watchtower with his two friends. The day was nearing its end, the almost completely orange sky was getting darker. Light looked across the sea, A dirty black stain floated on the water far away. Boats?

Yes, those are ships

Hey! Light scowled, My mind is invite only.

Sorry, you left yourself unguarded, I thought I had taught you better. The spydric presence left Light's mind and he turned to Eormi. "Hey, what do you think those are?" He pointed to the blotches in the ocean.

Eormi stayed transfixed on something, but Galaedrief turned around. She looked out on the ocean, and said, squinting in the sun, "Obviously ships."

"I thought so too, but why would anyone come to Naturos."

"You are dull. Those are human ships."

"How can you tell?"

"They are coming from the south. Any ship sailing from the south must be from Hommos."

"Why now? The Humans have always disliked Elves, but why attack now?"

Suddenly, Eormi's voice rang out in desperation. "Those aren't the only people coming. Over here." All three of the Elven watchmen crowded around to see. What they saw could have been interpreted as good news or bad. A large group of Elves, and Dark Elves, where marching south. Bad news, a war was certain. Good news, reinforcements from the northern side had come to help in the war. But as they watched, and looked back at the ships on the horizon, they realized that their army was much smaller then the sailing Human force.

Arachuna's voice interrupted Light's study, I told you something was happening.

Present

Light ducked and rolled to dodge a long pike from cutting off his face. The battle on Natorus had began. The elves were able to ambush the Humans and push them back with archers, but they bit back hard. The humans came much better equipped then the Elves.

When the battle begun, Light stayed behind as to not be accidently hit with an arrow, but once the humans pulled their shields out, he charged with the other Elves into the fray. Galaedrief was one of the archers firing upon the humans, but Eormi had to stay behind in the village and help the old village Sage incase the Humans moved farther up the island. Arachuna jumped out of a tree, and knocked of a large group of Humans, who quickly got back up on their feet before Light could stab his wrist-blades into their neck. Arachuna knocked down a few more humans, and the Elves tackled them before they could get up.

Things might be going well for light, but others where having a hard time. He watched both elves and humans fall in the clash of metal. Human crossbows had begun to take down the Elven archers, with a quick fling of arrows to respond with. Strength and speed broke Human bones, swords and spears killed Elven spirit. Light saw more archers and warriors fall, and hoped that Galadrief wasn't among them.

Silence.

The silence was total and complete. Not a thing permeated its shadowy grasp. As soon as Aaeci had entered his camp, the whole thing became invisible, and nothing outside of the camp could be seen from within, only blackness. Blackness and silence were the mage's company. Aaeci summoned the map from wherever it had been, and it floated simply in the air. The rune in Naturos had been snuffed out, but its death gave rise to another portal rune in Nainnos. Was the land of the stone man Crux invaded as the elves' land was? A snapping was heard, and the fire before him and tent were replaced with a stone circle covered in glowing blue runes.

Aaeci stepped into the circle, and touched the rune on his map with his left index finger and the map disappeared, the rune being magically drawn on the ground. He then chanted in a magical language. Strange words rolled from his tongue, "O poder de runas arcano, lévame á terra da pedra o home Cruceiro do Sur, terra dos ananos. Fai-me para Nainnos." In a blinding flash of blue light, Aaeci was gone from the camp, and found himself in the land of the dwarves.

In the mountains of Nainnos, nothing was at peace. He had expected peace, as he wanted knowledge on the whereabouts of the Trident-Wielder. But, all around him, there was fighting between the dwarves and humans wearing various armors. He had been in Grantrainnos all his life, and he had known if the nations of Hommos had allied. But they hadn't, which left Aaeci wondering. "What the hell is goi-" was what he got out of his mouth before a crossbow bolt fired from the weapon on a "Bedland" warrior hit his chestpiece. Aaeci looked at the fighter and glared. The man just laughed and said, "What are you going to do, pretty boy? Huh?" Then, Aaeci held out his hand flat and clenched it violently into a fist, saying in the language of magic, "Poderes das chamas do inferno, destruír a alma deste erro. Fai o teu propio ser asado de dentro cara a fóra, ata que todos, pero é unha casca Chamusca esquerda." Aaeci's palm and the undersides of his fingers began to glow red as...

Suddenly, the man kneeled down, digging the heels of his hands into his eye sockets, as his skin became faintly orange, and then glowed red from within. the man doubled over in pain, and writhed on the ground. When he lifted his hands, fires poured from his eye sockets, and from his gaping mouth a blast of flames rose as a mutated scream could be heard. His skin began to turn black, and flake like a charred piece of burger. His armor melted and cooled onto the deformed body of what was once a man, catching fire to the leg of a man dressed of a tribe.

He began to scream, and Aaeci just chuckled, though he expended a bit of mana. The dwarves saw what Aaeci had done, but kept fighting as best they could against the wave of men and women. Aaeci began hurling fireballs at the wave of men, and at one point set a group of men on fire in a conflagration of fire magic. He held out his hand and his arm glowed bright purple, a gray crossbow forming in it. He began firing bolts of mana at soldiers. The dwarves were all but surprised when Aaeci disappeared into the brush to recharge his mana. There were too many; even with his aid the dwarves would not push off these decievers, unless he used massive spells, which would expend far too much mana. He just had to wait it out and regain his mana. If anyone found him now, he would be at his most vulnerable, weak. He was human, but he sided with the dwarves out of respect for the race.

Skull walks through the crowds, eponymous mask removed so he may blend in without causing suspicion. After all, Skull was responsible for dozens of murders and various other crimes in every country in each continent, save for Diablos and the Shadow Isles. Skull was no fool to try to explore those regions unless someone else had done it first, survived, and lived to tell the tale. In the meantime, he would satisfy his murderous urges on the other continents, escaping authorities and rivals across the world.

But with this target, he had a particular beef with him. Killing is fine, yes. Declaring a genocidal campaign upon the other races? That was, to understate it with Skull, not cool. Skull may have killed men and women from every species all over the world, but he also had respect for each race, even amongst his victims. They each had their own style in combat that no other race could replicate, or even understand. Which meant more ways to kill and torture if he could figure out at least how their ways worked. If the campaign continued, those methods could be forever lost, which Skull wasn't going to allow.

He moves to the rooftops, removing his crossbow from his back and loading it with a poisoned, explosive bolt. If the shot didn't hit flesh, the explosive magic would activated, blowing up the surrounding area. If it did, the bolt's magic would release the poison in case the shot failed to kill its target. He readied himself, put on his mask, and waited for his target to come outside. After an hour of waiting, he finally saw him walking out with guards at his side. Tod Hallfier, President of Earth.

Skull starts thinking This isn't a very fair hunt...oh well. This guy doesn't really deserve to live, anyway. So, here we go... If this didn't stop the interspecies fighting, oh well. He'll just keep killing until it does. Skull aimed the crossbow, bolt loaded and ready to kill. He fires at the President's chest, expecting a quick kill.

Tod Hallfier watched the battles unfazed within his study, viewing four small orbs on podiums, overseeing the shores of each continent that a fleet had been sent to. Though what he witnessed on the shores of Diablos was something that nothing could ever prepare him for, the slaughter of his men on other shores left him unimpressed. It appeared that the elves were prepared, and the men on Naturos were killed off after an extended strife, with minimal elven casualties. The boats on the shores of Drakkos were promptly dealt with by Edward Vamilac; though the ones that landed caused some damage, they were swiftly done away with, also. And though the superiorly armed warriors on Nainnos were doing well against the meager dwarven forces, a strange mage appeared and turned the tide of the battle completely.

No matter, Tod thought to himself. The soldiers were inexperienced, and he hadn't intended for them to cause any real damage. They had fulfilled their true purpose; to cause conflict amongst the other races and the superpowers on the continent of Hommos. Also, any sort of death or destruction was progress in his eyes, considering the events to come.

"Sir," a servant walked into Tod's study, effectively ending his quiet contemplation.

"There is word that there is an assasin out for your head," the servant spoke with no inflection or emotion, having no care what could happen to his master, or even himself. Tod considered this for a moment. Though he had not anticipated it, it would make sense that not everyone residing in Earth would agree with his radical accusations and statements against the other Terres races, and demagogues of any kind are bound to be hated by some.

"Very well, fetch me my tome of illusion," Tod commanded his servant, which did so without hesitation. Once handed the old book, Tod blew some of the dust off, and tenderly flipped through pages, not wanting to damage the ancient text.

The next day, Tod decided to test out what his servant told him. He conjured an illusion of himself with two guards that walked out of his estate. Tod peered through the window, awaiting something, anything. Sure enough, shortly after the illusion made it out of the door, an arrow was shot through it's chest. With a puff of smoke, the three fraudulent figures disappeared, causing the arrow to collide with the ground, where it went out with a bang.

"So," Tod spoke to himself, "It would appear that the rumors are true. I must deal with this soon, or my immoral affairs may be put on hold."

With that, Tod walked over to his bookshelf, pulled out a book containing much more potent spells, and flipped through the pages.

Naturos-Hommos Battle

Zimon ran to his next target, a lightly equipped man wielding a shortblade. The man turned just in time to spot Zimon. Zimon was carrying his shield in one hand and his double-bladed sword in the other. As Zimon reached the man, he put his shield in front him, and slammed into the man, then pushed back, effectively sending the man flying backwards.

Zimon then leaped over to the man's position, and jabbed his blade into his stomach. A loud "RAAAH!" sounded, and Zimon looked up to see a bulky man, barely armored, and carrying an axe, charging at him. Axe met shield, and then blade met air.

Zimon and the heavy man exchanged blows, neither hitting the target, both missing. Zimon, finally, dropped his shield, dropped his sword, grabbed his spear and dropped it, then unbuckled his cheat plate. Stripped of defense and offense, Zimon ran at the man.

The man dropped his own axe, and also charged. They met, and both had headaches by the end of the brawl.

Present

The end of the short battle was not that bad. Few elven casualties, and lots of human casualties. The ships had loaded up and left, without the elves giving pursuit. The dead were being picked up and taken off to burial grounds, and the wounded being tended.

Even the humans. The dead humans were to be buried elsewhere, away from the sacred burial grounds of the elves though. There wounded would be tended to, and then held as prisoners. It was not like the elves to kill those unarmed, they were an honorable race - and those who deviated from it was looked down upon.

The beaches were stained red, and the water even had some red in it as well - blood was never a good sight. Zimon was not helping the others, he instead stood on a nearby cliff to watch the ships leave.

Koras walked up. "Master Zimon, do you sense what I can?" Zimon focused on his mind and his surroundings...

"No Koras, I do not sense anything. Why, what is it you sense?" Koras looked down, and then up at Zimon.

"A bad omen... the bloody sands... the water... the battle... the retreat... it doesn't match up. I think we'll be meeting more than just this small fleet... I suspect a war coming."

Zimon looked at the ships again, then said "We'll see."

Skull gritted his teeth as the "President" and his guards disappeared into smoke. From the looks of it, they were just illusions, since none of them ever bothered to notice the bolt. Skull knew he had to leave before he became the hunted, a position an assassin shouldn't put himself in, especially in the capital of a nation. But before leaving, Skull took out a scroll, wrote in it, and wrapped it around an extra bolt before loading it onto the crossbow. Firing the bolt at the same place as the first, he quickly made his hasty retreat from the capital.

Taking off and putting away his mask, he began walking the streets incognito, save for the crossbow slung across his back. He'd failed to kill someone today, which really made him angry. Walking with his head bent towards the ground, to avoid his face being seen, he looked up as he decided to take out his anger on someone. He walked up to a pair of city guards, and wordlessly drew his sword handle from his waist and his dagger from his suit. They sat at an outdoor table, idly chatting and watching for anything suspicious. They wouldn't know what hit them. They were to become Skull's way of making up for not killing anyone. To him, they were a substitute killing for the fake guards to the fake Pres.

Skull's longsword blade protruded to its full length, into the first guard's back and out of his chest. The second had barely gotten up out of instinct when their killer threw the dagger into his throat, masking any cries for help amongst the gurgling blood spilling forth. Cries for assistance and of fear of the killer from the crowd went unaided, as Skull quickly withdrew the blade and removed the dagger from the guards' bodies. He quickly disappeared into the crowd and left the city, having no doubt the killing would be seen as the doing of a local gang, or something.

He planned to return another time, or track the President should he leave the capital. His informants throughout the city would keep him updated on any further developments in the city. As for the note to President Evil? It read:
Now the hunt has gotten interesting.
Get ready, Mr. President.
It's monster against monster!
-Skull

Aaeci lay an arcane runestone on the ground in front of him, and he crushed it. Suddenly, he was surrounded by a whirlwind of pure mana, all of it seeping into his body, firing streaks of mana-lightning. As the last of it was absorbed into him, Aaeci heard the sounds of battle become fainter and fainter. Then, he heard screaming and running away. Had the falsities retreated from their battlefront, pushed back by the dwarves? Aaeci made his way back to the battle site, only to find humans running away, retreating. The man couldn't help but laugh; the sight of the men running was too funny. But, then Aaeci said, "Ah, ah, ah. You mustn't leave without a gift." Then, he began speaking words of magic: "Turbillón de fume de incendio, rastro-los ao seu destino. En canto ao seu líder, podo adiviñar, pero leva-me a el, con todo."

Then, smoke, remnants from one of his explosive fire spells, thickened, flying towards the ship, dispersing and entering a human ship through port holes. Then Aaeci turned on heel, and looked one of the dwarves in the eye. He then said, "Take me to your king."

As the dwarves surrounding Aaeci deeper into the mountains, he couldn't help but be amazed by how long the dwarves must have thrived here. A few short hours later, he came to the throne room of the king of the dwarves, Crux. Inside, a dwarf who kept charge of audiences said, "My lord, a human seeks audience with you." Crux narrowed his eyes, before saying, "Very well. Bring him in." The dwarves surrounding Aaeci dispersed once the door opened, forming a shield in the doorway.

Crux waited a long while before speaking. "Why do you come here, invader from the north? Why have you come to harm the dwarves and their land?" He sounded calm, not angry, or spiteful; simply... curious. Aaeci found his words and said, "Lord Crux, I did not come with the invaders. They are falsities and decievers. Not now or ever will the nations of Hommos unite, especially against other races. They are too proud to do such."

Crux looked at Aaeci and said, "Then who was it that invaded my home, human?" Aaeci could only say, "There was only one nation not included in this so called "alliance". I believe that the human nation of Earth did this. I fought with your dwarves!" The dwarves nodded. Crux took a bit, and said, "Maybe you tell the truth. But maybe you aim only to save your own hide. Time will show us. Begone, helper of my children, before you invoke my wrath." Aaeci got out, "but lord Cr-" before he said, in a firmer tone, "Begone!" Aaeci left.

On the shores on Nainnos, Aaeci could only wonder. He looked at his map, which he summoned from his camp. A rune was lit on the beaches of Drakkos.

Edward Vamilac, having survied, cut, battered and bruised admitedly, how out of breath, His poleaxe held loosely in his hand, He only growled before returning to the sea, slowly swimming back to the shore... Those ships were armed to counter him! He pulled himself onto the beach and lay on his back, letting his wings stretch out either side of him, and his tail sit half in the water, "Vilg." Was the only word to leave his lips.

He closed his eyes, and let his poleaxe disappear. He needed rest after that battle, "Pafyna risyr clis. Oui ryji syta yr araso sucd tyhkanuic drec tyo." he muttered before slipping back into the sea, to sleep.