By EM Malachi August 4th 2020
Many years ago…Halston Montil looked down the edge of his blade at the large troll in front of him. The Royal
Guard investigator had chased the leader of the Followers of Armageddon across half the
continent, only to arrive later than the angry troll who had been tricked into attacking Britannia.
Montil knew that his warriors could deal with the creature, but not without risking the two
innocents whom the cultist was hiding behind. “Troll, if you threaten us no more, you are free to go.”“No! Brother Killer must die!”
One of the hostages, a woman in a simple orange dress, tried to explain to the troll that the
guard would stop the murderer and Justice would be served. The troll was beyond reason.
G’thunk brought his huge club down on the entire trio, but Julia interceded to shield the other
hostage, her small frame taking the brunt of the blow.
The Royal Guard didn’t hesitate and moved in. Half the group arrested and secured the cabal
leader, while the remaining moved against the troll. The creature did not go down easily, and
even as the troll lay dying, G’thunk crawled toward his target, screaming “Brother Killer!” Montil
was half tempted to let the troll have the human murderer.
The threats abated, he turned his attention to the injured. The other hostage, the mage Mariah,
cradled the dying woman in her arms and tried to focus mana through a root of ginseng she had
torn from the ground. The guardsman recognized the healing spell, but knew from Julia’s pallor,
it wouldn’t be enough.
The dreams of a reformed pirate…
The air was cold in the forest, and wind blew fog from a river to the west. Jasir pulled his cloak
close and followed the path to the shrine. A woman was picking through the rubble there. She
was pale, except for a mane of red hair. As he approached, she looked up and spoke, “Ancient
Sosarians used to mix animal bone into the iron for swords. They believed it would imbue the
bear’s strength or wolf’s ferocity.”
“Did it work?”“
As much as anything does.” Julia stooped down and ran a hand over the gold inlay of the tear
drop. “The children who helped me pan for this gold grew into Minoc’s people: miners, soldiers,
and crafters. With all the strife, how many of them have bled for our way of life? How many
more will be lost?” She began to cry.
her form wavering. “I cannot shield them anymore. They will need you.
”What is required?””What always is: Sacrifice.”