Chronicles Of Zefaria: The Realm Of The Ancients

Chapter One

Preparations for War

Seth Von York, along with General Hornblower and General Saddlehock, had just about come to the end of planning their surprise attack against the Osmadaania province of Wragafnifur, which was led by Wan Taan Boo. It had taken them most of the day to come up with a solid offensive. The rest of the company either spoke quietly to one another or here and there checked in on the progress the trio was making. Finally, after a protracted wait, Seth called the others and they gathered around the trio.

"Ok, we've come up with what I think is a competent enough plan against Wragafnifur. General Saddlehock will explain."

General Saddlehock was silent for a brief moment and then he started speaking.

"Our plan is two-fold," began General Saddlehock. "First, we will have a team of Dwarves to dig an underground tunnel that leads to one of Wragafnifur's military outposts. They will begin digging the tunnel when they are about five-hundred yards away from the enemy outpost. After digging, the Dwarves will plant explosives underground that they'll set off when we give the command. The explosives will be set up about fifteen to twenty yards away from one another. There will be about five explosive devices. After the command is given to set off the explosives and they are detonated, we will lead the combined allied forces on an assault against the outpost. Our hope is that the shock from the explosions will be so great that the enemy will be dumbfounded as to how to deal with the sneak attack. Any comments or suggestions?"

No one spoke at first. Everyone seemed to be mulling over the idea in their heads. Farimar was the first to give his opinon on the plan.

"It seems competent enough," said Farimar the Elf as he stroked his chin. "I just have one question. How will the miners know which spots to choose in terms of setting the explosives?"

"That's a good question," said Edith. "I was wondering the same thing."

"They will have a guide," said Seth. "A Man will be disguised as an Orc and he will patrol the Wragafnifur held areas. He will use a sword that he will drill into the ground and every spot he chooses is where the explosives will be set."

"But how will he know when the Dwarves are done digging and planting an explosive on a certain spot?" said Master Fenfarah.

"The Dwarves will simply push the sword back up toward their guide," said General Hornblower. "And the guide will go in a straight line, so as not to confound the diggers. It's a solid plan if I do say so myself. The closest thing that we could come up with that even competes with it was a simple attack under the cover of night."

"Yes," said Seth Von York, "and that was just a duplicate of our enemies tactics in The Battle for Fort Evner in Galtigor, when Dakaroth and Saunssussen converged on Fort Evner."

"I have a question," said Master Fenfarah. "Won't the topsoil give way to anyone who walks on it, let alone this supposed guide that you all are planning on including? I think that is probably the biggest obstacle to the idea. If someone walks on the soil and it caves in, then our cover would be blown."

"The tunnels won't be as wide as you might think," said Seth. "That would take up too much of our time and by then the enemy may very well be on its way to Fignufen."

"Well then," began Edith, "how wide will the tunnels be?"

"The tunnels will be wide enough for the diggers to crawl through," said General Saddlehock. "All three of the diggers will be laying on the ground as they make their way to the different destinations that their guide will choose."

"Well, I don't know about anybody else but I'm sold on the idea," said Le'on Bravada, the prince of the Bravada Empire. "The whole notion of digging tunnels underneath enemy encampments and then setting off explosives just flows naturally to me."

"Are there any other concerns that any of you'd wish to air before we begin making the preparations?" said Seth Von York. There was silence. Master Fenfarah, the wizard, spoke aloud.

"I think that it is a capital idea," he said. "The enemy won't be anticipating such exotic strategy. I think we should move forward on it immeadiately. The more time we waste here, the more time we give Wan Taan Boo and Var Heflekar time to mount their own offensive."

Everybody else was also quite eager to get started. Seth Von York, General Saddlehock, and General Hornblower converged together to iron out some last minute issues. They then gathered the three Dwarves that would be used to dig the tunnel and also they selected a lone man from the force derived from the Chisolites and not from the group of soldiers whose home was the Yorkian Kingdom. He (the chosen soldier) was quite eager to be selected and to know that he was assisting the alliance of the free peoples in a very significant way. General Saddlehock then lead the lone Chisolite to a dress shop not too far away from where he, Seth, and General Hornblower drew up their plans to invade Wragafnifur. General Saddlehock said the following statements to the shop owner:

"Hello! I'm looking for an outfit that looks like an Orc. You wouldn't happen to have one around, would you?"

"As a matter of fact I have several," said the shop owner. He then lead the duo to a corner of the shop where costumes were hanging on racks. He sifted through the costumes for a time, and then he finally produced three different Orc outfits.

"Here they are! Top quality too, if I do say so myself. Which one will you be wanting?"

General Saddlehock chose the one that seemed to be the most diabolical. The face of the costume was more disfigured and twisted than the other two, and that would be the key ingredient if the Chisolite was to fool the Orcs in Wragafnifur.

"We'll take this one," said General Saddlehock. "How much will you be wanting for it?"

"Oh, I'd say about twenty-five penetts," said the shop owner as he stroked his chin.
"This here is fine material, some of the best in all of Zefaria I reckon. You'd be hardpressed not to be fooled when someone is wearing this here fellow."

"Fine," said General Saddlehock. He then produced the twenty-five penetts and the duo left the shop and headed straight for the military outpost where Seth and the rest of the company were located. There wasn't much talking going on when the duo entered the outpost. They were all patiently awaiting the arrival of General Saddlehock and the chosen soldier. When the duo finally did enter the complex, Seth greeted him with a shake of the hand and a smile.

"Welcome, brave Chisolite," said Seth to the chosen soldier. "I hope that you are as excited about this plan as we are. By the way, what is your name?"

"Brian, sir. Brian Waterloo. And yes, I am very excited," he said enthusiastically.

"Well, young Waterloo," said Seth as he placed his hand on his shoulder, "General Hornblower will now go over your required duties. Do you think that you can perform them under the circumstances? You already know that you'll be dressed as an Orc and in enemy territory. Do you think that you'll be able to perform under those frightening circumstances?"

"I will perform my required duties to the best of my ability, sir, and that's the best I can give."

"Well," said Master Fenfarah, "I'm sure that will be good enough."

General Hornblower then described to the youthful Brian Waterloo what was required of him: how he was supposed to act as a watch throughout his time in Wan Taan Boo's territory, and how he was to select sensitive spots where the Dwarves would plant their explosives. Brian Waterloo listened to every detail attentively and he waited until General Hornblower was finished before he aired one concern that he had.

"In terms of me sticking my sword into the ground as a means to direct the Dwarves, I'm concerned about something: won't it be difficult for me to firmly plant it in the ground as deep as I'll have to? I mean, won't I be drawing attention to myself, and a good deal of it too?"

Everyone was quite amazed to hear this. It was something that had escaped them and they were all wondering how that could have happened. Farimar finally spoke.

"That is quite an important observation that we all missed here," said Farimar Oakensly. "How are we going to get past it?"

"Maybe we can wait until it rains," said Edith Von York, the princess of the Yorkian Kingdom. "That would make the soil tender to the touch."

"But what if it doesn't rain?" said Le'on Bravada. "Then we'll be prone to any attack from Wan Taan Boo and Wragafnifur."

"Yes," said Seth Von York, the prince of the Yorkian Kingdom. "Yes, waiting for it to rain seems like too big of a gamble. We'll have to come up with another idea."

Everyone reflected inwardly on what could be done to solve this current dilemma. It was a long time before anyone had spoken, and it at first looked as if there wasn't going to be a solution, but then Brian Waterloo came up with one that he thought might work.

"What if I carry with me a pitcher of water? I could use the water to soften up the soil and then I could plunge the sword in the ground."

"Yes," said Seth. "That sounds like it could work. But I think you'd have to carry with you several pitchers of water on a stick. It would, I'm guessing, take an awful lot of water to soften up more than the uppermost sections of soil."

"That might just be the remedy to our problem," said Le'on Bravada.

"Yes," said Master Fenfarah. "It might just be. But let us first exhaust any other possible chinks in the armor of this plan before we plunge headlong into it."

Everyone agreed that was a good idea. And so they began to fervently think of any other potential problems that would hamper the success of the operation. They did this for about five minutes, though none were able to think of anything. Finally Seth broke the silence.

"I think it is safe to say that the plan is fool-proof."

Everyone agreed.

"Let us now make the final preparations for our attack on Wragafnifur," said Farimar Oakensly the Elf.

Chapter Two

A New Journey Dons

Maphador the scholar lead Tonomoli, Prailee, Nefandus, and Jebzian out of the enclosed Fignufen territory. The morning had just begun. The thoughts of everyone was a mingling of enthusiasm and wonder. Just who was this guy who informed Maphador where he'd find the core members of the alliance? Could he have been a prophet? Tonomoli had known of only one prophet in Zefaria's long history, a man called Guggenheimner. Guggenheimner had claimed that Monafia Dalaysis--labeled the steward of Zefaria by scholars because of her uncanny wisdom as it relates to political and social issues--would be reborn and would lead the Zefarian peoples to the truth concerning their origin. Tonomoli didn't know when this prophecy was supposed to occur, and he wasn't even sure if Guggenheimner gave a time table for it. To tell the truth, Tonomoli didn't even know if Monafia Dalaysis even existed. But he could not dismiss the truth of the matter: just about all of Zefaria's religions were centered around Monafia Dalaysis. Tonomoli mulled over the matter in his head for a while until he finally decided to speak to Maphador about it.

"Excuse me, sir Maphador, I was wondering--what exactly are we going to find at these so-called ancient ruins?"

"That, young lad, is precisely what I intend to find out."

"You mean to say that you have no idea what to expect?" said Nefandus.

"You speak the truth," said Maphador. "I must confess that I know little to nothing of what we'll fnd there. But I'm also privy to the fact that things will become more clear in time. We just have to extend our patientience."

"Couldn't you tell us a little bit about that cryptic figure whom you say led you to us in the first place?" said Jebzian the wise wizard. Maphador paused for a moment as if he was reflecting on what Jebzian had just said. He then spoke.

"He was--well, oh dear me--I guess it wouldn't hurt to share my encounter with him. It was around midnight and ten days ago. I had retired to my study. I was currently reading over a few journals from Zefarians long since deceased when I suddenly noticed that a man was standing above me and in front of my desk. He wore a gray cloak. Well, you can imagine how frightened I was. I at first thought that he was there to try and pillage anything that he might consider valuable. I questioned him and he told me not to be frightened. He remarked how I was a well-known scholar of my time and asked me would I be interested in discovering the secrets of the ancient world. I mulled over his proposition for a time. It seemed foolish to me, but ultimately my curiosity outweighed my scepticism. I told him that I was interested. He was pleased with this, evidenced by his smile. He told me that I was in need of assistance. He then told me the exact date and time where I would find those who would assist me and he left. And that is--in essence--my tale. I must confess that I wrestled with the decision to follow through with my decision for several days, but--as I said--my curiosity outweighed my scepticism."

"Now just hold on a minute," said Tonomoli. "When you say he left, do you mean he disappeared, or walked out the front door?"

"The latter, young Tonomoli."

"Is that the extent of your tale?" said Nefandus. "You didn't even ask the questions that needed asking, like 'Where are you from?' or 'How do you know all this?' If I were in the same position as you were I would've transformed into question man."

"Yes, yes," said the scholar. "I know that I didn't ask any pertinent questions, and it is certainly the reason why I have chastised myself over the past several days. But you must put yourself in my position. A whirlwind of thoughts were present in my mind at that time, and, after he left, I was finally ready to ask the questions that needed answering, like 'Who are you?' and 'Where are you from?' But it was too late. I would've greatly liked to know how it is that he knew what he knew, but I suppose that question will have to be posed at another time."

"I am under the impression that this cryptic individual is not wholly in a class of his own," said Jebzian the wizard. "Monafia Dalaysis is widely considered to be the wisest person who ever lived. Where did she get her knowledge from?"

The company took to navigating the road. Many caravans had already passed them during this early morning period, no doubt headed to Fignufen with spices and other relevant goods. As Prailee the Dwarf watched the latest caravan go past he became concerned about his stomach. He suddenly realized that they'd had nothing to eat all day. He approached Maphador to air his grievance.

"We haven't had a bite to eat all day, Maphador. When do you think we'll get a chance to?"

Maphador pulled his map from his pocket and went silent. Finally he spoke his thoughts. "I haven't been so caught up in this journey to forget about our bellies," said Maphador. "In fact, I actually planned on making a stop in Foster Village where we could eat and take in the latest news."

"Foster Village is about seventy-five miles away from Fignufen," said Nefandus. "We should have worked up a healthy appetite by then."

Tonomoli tried to calculate how long it would take them to make it to Foster Village but he couldn't come up with a figure that he felt represented an accurate enough time. He felt they'd make it anywhere from seven to nine in three days time. That was an awful long time to wait he mused. He secretly hoped that this wouldn't become a staple of how this new journey would turn out, the company eating only one meal every three days.

Jebzian was concerned about something and decided to air it.

"It would be wise if we were to buy some foodstuffs in Foster Village for the remainder of our journey. If you look at the map and trace your finger along the route that we are to take the next possible stop would be Bandersnatch. Bandersnatch and Foster Village lie about one-hundred and twenty miles from each other. That's an awful long time to go without any food."

"You're point is well taken, Jeb--Jeb--"

"Jebzian."

"Yes, Jebzian," said Maphador. "We will purchase some foodstuffs in Foster Village. I do hope that you all brought money with you. If not--well, we'll just have to wait and see."

Tonomoli looked inside of his wallet. He had only twenty penetts left! Where could he possibly get more penetts? Perhaps he could ask to borrow from someone in the company, his long time companion of Prailee for instance. He privately scolded himself for not having the foresight to bring more money. But how could he possibly have seen how long this journey would last? How could anyone have seen the latest developments: the company being split in two, one half left to confront the terror that is Osmadaania while the other looks for answers concerning the origin and perhaps even the cure for that plague that knows no bounds. After pondering over it for a time he finally told himself that there was no use worrying about it. Things will work out in the end, he told himself. The company continued on with little discussion for about seven miles when a thought struck Tonomoli and he felt he had to share it with his companinons.

"What's the likelihood of us running into Orcs on our way to these ancient ruins. We ran into two bands of them when it was just myself, Prailee, and Nefandus. I wonder if we're on course for future meetings."

"Orcs?" said Maphador. "I should hope that we don't run into any of those beastly folk."

"But the enemy doesn't know about this traveling company," said Jebzian. "Though he does know of our companinons in Fignufen, thanks to Ranmah's antics. I should think that if he ever found out what we were up to we'd be in a pot of boiling water."

"I think you're overly concerned about things," said Prailee Orensadden the Dwarf. "You would have to stretch your imagination indeed if you think that there's a potential for Lord Osmadaan to get wind of this traveling company. Though I do see no reason why Orcs would stop harassing the free peoples."

"I wouldn't be so quick to dismiss the resources of Lord Osmadaan," said Jebzian. "He has eyes and ears all over Zefaria. He found out about the outcome of the Great Council and had us all fooled just before the Battle for Fort Evner, didn't he? I don't think it is so much of a stretch of the imagination as it is acknowledging proabability."

"Yet still, why would Lord Osmadaan be interested in a company that seeks to find out the secrets of the ancient world?" said Maphador the scholar. "I just don't see the connection."

"I think he'd be interested because he himself was a part of the ancient world," said Tonomoli. "Farimar said that he knew of nothing linking Lord Osmadaan to the Elves, yet he's existed these many years. If we can somehow unravel the secrets of the ancient world then who knows what kind of information we could obtain about Lord Osmadaan. If he's not an Elf then what is he?"

"Well spoken, young Tonomoli," said Nefandus. "I, too, see a link between Lord Osmadaan and the ancient world. Hopefully we can find out some pertinent information on this journey, some information that might help us dethrone Lord Osmadaan."

"Ah, I never made that connection with Lord Osmadaan and the ancient world," said Maphador the scholar. "But now I see clearly. Lord Osmadaan has been here for generation upon generation, yet he isn't--at least it's believed--not of Elven blood. Then what is he? Like you say, Nefandus, hopefully we'll find that out when we make it to those ancient ruins."

Midday had come and gone and the company had yet to have any food. Hunger had plagued them but they all took it in stride. It was about eight o'clock and three day's time when the company finally made it to Foster Village, an arrival time that was right in the middle of Tonomoli's estimation. They found a quaint place to eat. All ordered feelo fish specials, dinners that came with two pieces of feelo fish and fried potatoes and a glass of ale. After that they retired in an inn. Another days journey lay before them and all were quite eager to see what was ahead.

Chapter Three

Turmoil In Foster Village

Tonomoli was the first of the company to awaken and he gave the others who were in their seperate rooms the liberty of a little more sleep. The next one to awaken was the scholar Maphador and he hastily went around the rooms waking up the company. Tonomoli was visibly upset by this.

"Come now, off we go," said Maphador.

"Was that really necessary?" asked Tonomoli of Maphador. "What I mean to say is, they could've slept in a little longer, couldn't they? We're not in a hurry to get to those ancient ruins, are we?"

Maphador gave Tonomoli a thorough glance. He then spoke. "I beg to differ with you, young Tonomoli. We are in a hurry. The quicker we get to those ruins the quicker we'll find out the truth of Zefaria's long disputed history. And, if I may add, Maphador, and not Tonomoli, is the leader of this intrepid expedetion. You'd be wise to remember that."

Tonomoli took Maphador's comments in stride. He was a little agitated that Maphador had done what he'd done, but he wasn't willing to get into a heated argument over it. He could already tell that Maphador was a little upset over his comments, so he decided to let him have the last word.

"We are going to have breakfast this morning, aren't we?" asked Prailee. "I don't think I can do a repeat of the last three days."

"Yes, we'll have breakfast," said Maphador. "We'll have breakfast at that little establishment we went to yesterday."

"Good," said Prailee. "Then let us be on our way."

Now gathered together, the company made their way out of the inn. The establishment that Maphador the scholar was talking about lay a good mile and a half from the inn. It was called Blue Ribbons. It was a well-known eatery throughout all of Foster Village. When the company arrived there were quite a few patrons already present. Some gave cursory looks at the fivesome, others looked them up and down more thoroughly. Maphador the scholar took offense to the ones who looked him up and down without any restraint. He whispered his concern to Tonomoli and Prailee

"They certainly don't hold back their stares, do they lads?" asked Maphador of the duo. "You'd think we'd have a cowbell tied around our necks or something."

"Hmph," whispered Prailee, "they remind me of the inhabitants of Desendale. Remember how they kept staring at us, Tonomoli? It was like we were in a freak show or something."

"You two shouldn't be so uptight about it," whispered Tonomoli. "We're new here, so of course we're going to get stared at."

"Yet still, they could show a little restraint," whispered Maphador the scholar. "Are the inhabitants of Foster Village so devoid of the concept of common courtesy?

Finally, Nefandus led the company to a corner of Blue Ribbons that wasn't heavily populated. A waitress came speedily to take their orders.

"What can I get you boys this fine Wednesday morning?" she asked.

"Five pancake specials all with sausage?" asked Nefandus of the company. They all agreed. The waitress went about her way to process the orders. Soon the company was busy eating flapjacks, sausages, and milk. It took everyone about five minutes to finish eating. After that, the waitress came over to collect five penetts from everyone. Tonomoli looked a little reluctant to part with his cash, seeing as how he had so few left. Maphador was about to bring up the idea of gauging the inhabitants of Blue Ribbons for any news that they might have heard when the pleas of an Elf woman caught him and the rest of the company by surprise. She was a slender Elf woman, and yet there was a beauty in her that no man could deny.

"Is there no man here brave enough to fight for his own land?" said the mysterious Elf woman. "Paul," she spoke, entreating him. "Do you want to see Lord Osmadaan and his cronies running amok in Foster Village? For surely that is what will happen if you do not stand and fight."

The man whom she spoke of looked concerned for a moment, but then he got up and walked out of Blue Ribbons without a single word. The woman turned to three other men.

"What about you gentlemen? Lord Osmadaan has his eyes set on Foster Village. Are you just going to stand here and not mount any kind of offensive?"

The men all looked at each other but said not a word. The woman seemed in great distress.

"Cowards," she said. "Everywhere I turn I see cowards. Why won't any of you stand and fight?"

At this moment it seemed as if the woman was fighting for a dying cause. Tonomoli and the rest of the company were too intrigued not to question her. They all approached her. Tonomoli was the first to speak.

"Excuse me, miss--miss--"

"My name is Medina. I've never seen you lot here before."

"That's because we're not originally from Foster Village," said Nefandus. "But more importantly, what is your dilemma?"

"Everything is fine. There just seems to be a lack of the courageous in these parts."

"You said that Lord Osmadaan is looking to take over Foster Village," said Jebzian. "Are you certain of this?"

"I am," said Medina. "Several of our scouts have noticed a massive influx of Orcs in Foster Forest. They are under the leadership of Ranmah's Kar Heflekarza. They're planning to invade even as I speak."

"Kar Heflekarza?" said Prailee Orensadden. "I've never heard of his name before. Who's that?"

"Kar Heflekarza is Var Heflekar's father," said Nefandus. "He used to be the leader of the Valderghof before Lord Osmadaan promoted his son."

"Their last names are different," said Tonomoli. "Why the name change?"

"For the answer to that question you'll have to ask Var Heflekar," said Jebzian.

"Miss Medina," said Nefandus, "we perceive that you are in a tight situation. Would our assistance help to lighten your burden?"

Medina couldn't believe what she was hearing. She could barely contain her emotion.

"You mean to tell me that five complete strangers are willing to fight beside me in the defense of a land that they don't belong to?"

"Not quite five," said Maphador. "I am a scholar not a fighter. But four complete strangers are willing to fight beside you in defense of a land that they don't belong to."

"Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you so much! We have some men who will stand and fight after all! You need not go unrewarded! I can pay you. How does five-hundred penetts sound? No? Yes? We can talk figures later. But come, I'll take you where we plan our strategy." The fivesome trailed after Medina, a whole new avenue awaiting them.

Chapter Four

Evil Prepares For War

It was night. Kar Heflekarza, the orc general, sat alone in his tent, pouring over a map of Foster Forest and Foster Village. It was as the elf woman Medina had described it: Ranmah of the Osmadaania province of Aundar had given Kar Heflekarza orders to encamp in Foster Forest for an attack against the people of Foster Village. That was nine days ago. The troop had only recently made it to Foster Forest, and now they were near the northeast border where Foster Forest and Village meet. It had been a tumultous journey throughout. Heavy rain in the form of thunderstorms had descended throughout most of their journey. The legion of orcs were more than a little agitated by the onslaught of the rain, and many felt it prudent to just simply encamp somewhere and wait out the storms, but Kar Heflekarza wouldn't have any of that. Indeed, it was appropriate weather for a late September to early October time period, but the troop had made it through it.

Fires blazed here and there, sprawled throughout the camp. Companies of orcs situated themselves around the campfires, discussing trivial matters. Kar Heflekarza sat in silence, brooding over military plans, when a lone orc entered his tent. His attire was befitting of one who had accomplished much in his tenure with the military, two medals here a badge or two there. Kar Heflekarza glanced at his subordinate and, as was customary with orcs, spoke hoarsely.

"Ah, Captain Jask. And what do I owe the pleasure of this here meeting? Have you discovered some pertinent information about the enemy? Do you wish to assist me with this here military strategy? Come now, out with it."

Captain Jask seemingly had trouble putting together a sentence. It wasn't that he didn't know what he wanted to say, it was that he just didn't know how to start it, and he was also a little frightened about upsetting the general. Kar Heflekarza looked him over most thoroughly.

"Well, are you gonna make me wait all night? You've obviously got something to say. Spit it out!"

Captain Jask was quiet for a little while longer, he then stammered. Finally, he managed to put together a reasonable sentence.

"General Kar Heflekarza, sir, the orcs, we're low on rations. We were wondering when we'd get a chance to get more. That is why I am here, sir. I was sent to discover when we'd restock on food."

"That's it?" said Kar Heflekarza. "You mean to tell me that those idiots sent you in here to pester me about their bellies? That's all they think about! Why can't I be surrounded by the brave, stalwart, and the fearless? Instead, I'm in command of a troop whose only thought is when they'll get their next meal."

"But sir," said Captain Jask hoarsely, "our gripe is legitimate. We're running low on supplies. Soon we'll be out completely. The orcs are only thinking the way they are because our future is so uncertain."

"I'm well aware of our predicament, Captain Jask! I have it well under control. Trust me enough at least to not worry too much about our situation."

Kar Heflekarza returned to studying his map. Captain Jask stood in silence. He obviously had more on his mind than what had already been revealed by the general.

"Was there something else, Captain Jask?"

Captain Jask stammered again. He then finally worked up the nerve to ask what was bothering him.

"Sir, you said that you had everything well under control. If I may ask, what exactly do you have planned? I don't think the others will leave me be without a postive response on your end, sir."

Kar Heflekarza was a little agitated that Captain Jask had yet to leave and also that he was questioning him. He then came to the conclusion that the only way to silence the cries of his troop would be to divulge his plans.

"Fine," he said. "Tomorrow morning, I will send a squad of orcs with backpacks to Foster Village. They will be instructed to steal as much food as they can from whomever they come across, but mostly they will target stores. Does that quell some of your concerns, Captain Jask?"

Captain Jask nodded several times. "Yes, General Heflekarza, it does. I will quickly inform the company about your plan."

"You do that," said Kar Heflekarza, and he immediately turned his back to Captain Jask and went back to studying his map.

Two more hours had passed. Kar Heflekarza had been mulling over his military strategy. The current plan was to split up the unit. One half would proceed to the southern border, where Foster Forest and Foster Village meet, while the other would stay stationed at the northeast border. By doing this, Kar Heflekarza hoped to catch the enemy off guard. Kar Heflekarza had finally come to terms with his strategy when Captain Jask and a small man dressed in a blue tunic entered his tent. Kar Heflekarza was more than a little surprised to see a human.

"What's this, Captain Jask? Someone whose been taken prisoner?"

"No, sir," said Captain Jask. "He's here to offer us information."

"Information?" replied Kar Heflekarza.

"Yes, sir."

Kar Heflekarza looked in wonderment at the man, who was by now smiling. Kar Heflekarza's thoughts were largely centered on the identity of this man and his purpose for betraying his people, for that is certainly what it seemed to be, a betrayal.

"What's your name?" began Kar.

"Well, folks back home call me Junior, so I guess that's a start."

Kar Heflekarza glanced at Captain Jask.

"Ok then, 'Junior', what exactly is the information that you have obtained?"

"Well, I was in my favorite eatery in all of Foster Village, Blue Ribbons, when a group of five strangers entered the establishment. They were a rather strange bunch, and of course I had never seen them before. Well anyway, a little bit later on, one of Foster Village's chief military personnel, an Elf named Medina, entered Blue Ribbons in a tirade. She was trying to get some of the local men to help defend Foster Village against Osmadaania, but none of them would have any of it. Finally though, the group questioned her, and before you knew it, they had agreed to help her."

"I don't quite see how this helps our cause," said Kar Heflekarza. "An Elf woman teams up with strangers to help defend their land? Where's the information that benefits us?"

"That's where I come in," said Junior. "Ya see, I can get inside the meetings with Medina and the rest of the military personnel. I'm a high level military official for Foster Village. And by being a high level military official I can get access to high level meetings with Medina and the rest of the military personnel. That's where the information comes in."

Captain Jask had a smile on his face. Kar Heflekarza couldn't deny that this was some rather good news. But there were two things that bothered him: Junior's payment and his motivation. What would drive a man to turn his back on his people?

"And just how much will you be wanting for your information?" asked Kar Heflekarza.

"Oh, nothing much. Just the promise that, when you invade, you won't kill or torture any of my friends and family members. I'm no fool. I know that Foster Village can't stand up to the might of Lord Osmadaan. No one can. So, what do you say, do we have a deal?"

Kar Heflekarza stood, showing his full height. He easily dwarfed Junior. Junior stepped away from the approaching Kar. He was terrified by Kar's now daunting presence, but his fear was soon offset by a smile that encapsulated Kar's incredibly contorted face.

"We have a deal," said Kar Heflekarza.

Chapter Five

War In Wragafnifur

It was night. The company of Seth, Edith, Le'on, Master Fenfarah, Farimar Oakensly, General Hornblower, and General Saddlehock had led the combined forces of the Chisolites, those knights derived from the Yorkian Kingdom, and also a good portion of Fignufen's military to about a mile and half away from a large military outpost in Wragafnifur territory. It had been decided that an attack under the cover of night would go even further to inhibit the capability of the enemy, and so thus it was acted upon. Brian Waterloo, the lone Chisolite selected to guide the Dwarves in planting their explosives, was in position. Just as it was planned, the youthful Chisolite carried with him several flasks of water whose handles were placed on a long pole. The Dwarves who were to do the digging had already reached their destinations. Brian Waterloo looked around quickly to see if any of the Orcs were watching him. All within the vicinity seemed to be busying themselves with normal exploits, a guard patrolling here, another there. Feeling confident that none were privy to his plans, he went into position.

Just as it was discussed, Brian Waterloo removed one of the flasks of water and started to pour some of it on the ground. After he finished with that, he hastily stuck his sword into the wet earth. The soil was loose and mushy, the water serving its purpose. After a time, the sword began to move back toward the youthful Chisolite, the signal agreed upon indicating that the Dwarves had planted their first of three explosives. Brian Waterloo headed for the next destination his heart pounding in his chest. As it was planned, he headed in a straight line, so as not to confuse the Dwarven diggers. Finally, the lad made it to a spot that he felt comfortable with. He then took another basin of water and started to pour it on the ground. Next, he placed his sword in the earth. After a short while the sword returned to him.

At last Brian Waterloo made it to the last chosen spot. As he did the previous times, he looked around to make sure none of the Orcs were on guard. None were. A nervous anxiety had overtaken him. He knew that he was in a dangerous situation and that at anytime he could be discovered but he went along with his mission. He poured water on the ground and placed his sword inside the earth. It took a little while but the sword eventually returned to him. The mission was almost complete. All that was left to do was give the signal that everything was in place in the form of launching a single firework. Brian Waterloo took a rocket shaped firework from his coat pocket and, using a match, lit it. The firework launched itself into the air and exploded for all to see. The orcs were caught by surprise and wondered outwardly as well as inwardly what was going on. Brian Waterloo hurried to make it back to the rest of the military force just as the dwarves were setting off their explosives.

The orcs of Wragafnifur were confounded. Some had been walking in the midst of one of the three blasts, and were launched into the air, the rest of the orcs looking on in a horrendous manner at the misfortune of their companions. The combined forces of the Yorkian Kingdom, Chisolom, and Fignufen stormed the military outpost. The three dwarves who had planted the explosives had by now made it back to the company, as did Brian Waterloo. Seth led the company screaming into the heart of the military outpost.

"For the free peoples!" he yelled.

"For the free peoples!" came the reply from his troop.

Wan Taan Boo, the leader of the Osmadaania province of Wragafnifur, and Var Heflekar, the leader of an Osmadaanian province called the Valderghof, led their orcs into battle. It took the orcs some time to respond to the sneak attack but under the leadership of Wan Taan Boo and Var Heflekar they managed to put up a good offensive.

"The time has come!" said Var Heflekar hoarsely. "Let's win this one for Lord Osmadaan!"

"I want to see the blood gushing from their innards!" remarked Wan Taan Boo.

The orc army was about two-thirds the size of the military alliance under the command of Seth Von York, and Seth sensed that it was so. He decided to communicate this to his troop.

"We're a bigger bunch than they are!" he said. "They shouldn't pose too much of a problem, lads! To battle!"

And thus Seth Von York led his company in the second battle of the free peoples and the evil empire of Osmadaania. The first was the Battle of Fort Evner, and in that battle it was the combined forces of the Dakaroth led Thangoon and the Saunssussen led Makerva that prevailed against the free peoples and thus led to Lord Osmadaan taking a chunk out of the dwarven land of Galtigor. The second confrontation happened in the Yorkian Kingdom, though it could hardly be called a battle. It was in the Yorkian Kingdom where Ranmah, the leader of the Osmadaania province of Aundar, had led a unit to battle and attacked a lone outpost. There it was also where Edith Von York's beloved, Janus Wraynard, was killed. This current battle was one for a portion of Wragafnifur's land, and so thus it was labeled by the scholars The First Battle for Wragafnifur.

Le'on Bravada, the prince of the Bravada Empire and the lone representative of the Bravada Empire to the alliance, was in his first confrontation. He was battling a warped orcas, or to call them by the more common name, an orc. The orc looked fierce, brutish, and intimidating. He then sized Le'on up and spoke openly to him about what he perceived of his ability in battle from only a glance.

"Hmph," said the orc. "I perceive that you are a weak and puny man who'd do best by running away instead of challenging this mighty orc." And as he said this he beat his fist upon his breast.

"Come then!" said Le'on. "Engage in battle with me and we will see who comes out on top."

The two encircled one another, each looking for a chance to strike. Finally, Le'on lunged after the orc. The orc parried his first strike but wasn't able to prevent Le'on from slicing at his leg. The orc howled in pain as black blood oozed from his wound. He placed his hand over the wound and then cursed at Le'on. Le'on waited for him to get up before he engaged in a sword fight with the orc, their blades clashing in the moonlight. Sparks flew here and there from the impact of the swords. The injured orc was overly concerned about his wound and Le'on noticed this. He then decided to hold back on using all of his skill to lure the orc in for the kill. It worked. The orc thought that it was his skill that was overpowering Le'on and that him penetrating his skin early on was just a fluke. Le'on saw a renewed vigor in the orc and waited for a chance to present itself. The orc came rushing at Le'on full steam and Le'on sidestepped him and stuck his sword in the orc's side. The orc howled again and this time Le'on took off his head.

Farimar Oakensly, the lone representative of the elven country Finlaiven to the alliance, had already disposed of several orcs until he came into an encounter with a warped elf. It pained Farimar immensly that his people were serving Lord Osmadaan, but he was stout and resolute, knowing that he had another battle to fight. The warped elf hissed at Farimar as he approached him.

"So you want to challenge me, eh?" said the warped elf. "I fight for the mighty Lord Osmadaan. You fight for the impotent free peoples and the country of Finlaiven. I will defeat you and cement Lord Osmadaan's name as the greatest leader to ever walk the Zefarian world."

Farimar said nothing. The two paced about each other until the warped elf charged Farimar. Farimar expertly sidestepped his attack and attempted to get in attacks of his own that the warped elf managed to defend against. The warped elf hissed again. Farimar's face was as rigid as stone. The warped elf charged Farimar once more and the two became locked in combat. After a time, Farimar managed to sidestep a few of the warped elf's attacks and then he sliced away at his chest. The warped elf wailed in pain. Farimar then saw an opportunity. He charged the warped elf and planted his sword in his abdomen. The warped elf was in shock. Farimar removed his sword and watched as the warped elf spasmed on the ground.

"I would say that I hope that Far Finlaiven takes to you, but I don't think it will." The warped elf died. Farimar went looking for his next opponent.

Master Fenfarah, the wizard from the wizardly precinct of Shondaloh, had managed to send several orcs into retreat using his powers. Just as before, in the Battle of Fort Evner, Master Fenfarah was exercising mercy on the orcs. It was easily within his power to send them to their demise, but he felt it prudent to exercise mercy and not judgement. After sending so many orcs into retreat, Master Fenfarah then found himself being confronted by the leader of the Osmadaania province of Wragafnifur, Wan Taan Boo. Wan Taan Boo was equipped with a single sword. He was formally a man, but now his visage had become so contorted as to become unrecognizable in human terms. This was a trait that all peoples who served Lord Osmadaan would eventually develop. Wan Taan Boo had no wellspring of power to draw upon like the wizard, just his hatred for everything that didn't submit to the will and might of Lord Osmadaan. Master Fenfarah looked undaunted as he paced about his enemy, his staff firmly in his grip. But before engaging in combat with him, he wanted to question him. The wizard was unsure if who he was facing was indeed Wan Taan Boo, though he gathered from his military apparel that Wan Taan Boo was indeed who he was squaring off against. Master Fenfarah didn't know how to start what he wanted to say, which is why he was relieved when Wan Taan Boo spoke to him.

"You know who I am?" said Wan Taan Boo to the wizard.

"I may," replied Master Fenfarah. "Would I be correct in assuming that you are Wan Taan Boo?"

"You are correct indeed," said Wan Taan Boo. "And since I have confirmed your assumption, are you not now afraid to engage in combat with me?"

"Hardly," said Master Fenfarah as the two continued to pace about each other.

"Well you should be," began Wan Taan Boo. "I am the juggernaut of the Osmadaanian empire. I have risen through the ranks to assume command of the vast land known as Wragafnifur, one of the many provinces of Osmadaania. I am one to be feared, one to invoke dread and torment in the minds of my adversaries. You would do well to take heed to my proclamations! For I am Wan Taan Boo, prince of the Osmadaanian empire!"

"Indeed," began Master Fenfarah, "I have heard of you. Being a representative of the wizardly precinct Shondaloh, I have talked endlessly with the representatives of the dwarven country of Fignufen. They have spoken with me at length about the continued skirmishes that have been taking place between their country and your province. Yes, I have heard of the many things perpetrated by the troops under your command, such as caravans being ambushed and farmland being ravaged. But as far as you being some fear-inducing figure, well, I'll just say that you haven't lived up to that reputation."

Wan Taan Boo laughed.

"You are a foolish old wizard," he said. "You obviously have not heard of the torture inflicted upon captives from the different Zefarian countries, torture that I myself have personally been involved in. Did the representatives of Fignufen forget to tell you that little nugget of news?"

Master Fenfarah paused for a brief moment. He then spoke. "I have heard of dissapearances, yes. You mean to tell me that you inflicted torture on those poor people?"

"I did," said Wan Taan Boo with a smirk. "Are you afraid now?"

Master Fenfarah said nothing as he continued to pace about his foe. Slowly, but surely, he was coming to terms with who the enemy was.

"Hmph," said Wan Taan Boo. "There are many other things that I plan to introduce to the Zefarian peoples, in terms of torture techniques. They will be inaugurated in time, once Lord Osmadaan's influence is spread uncontrollably across the Zefarian world."

"That day will never come," said Master Fenfarah.

"Are you so certain of that?" was Wan Taan Boo's reply. "Many countries have consigned to simply join with Lord Osmadaan instead of opposing him. Makerva used to be independant before Lord Osmadaan came along. I have also heard that Fort Evner in the dwarvian land of Galtigor has fallen. It will only be a matter of time before all of Galtigor falls. Why not submit to the might of Lord Osmadaan now before it is too late?"

"You speak of Fort Evner falling," began Master Fenfarah, "but did you know that Galtigor called for the assistance of the Bravada Empire, and that assistance was bestowed upon them?"

Wan Taan Boo shrugged. "A slight setback. Galtigor will fall. It may be today, tomorrow, or even months from now, but it will happen. Nothing can hold back the hand of Lord Osmadaan."

It seemed to Master Fenfarah that Wan Taan Boo was set in his ways. There seemed no indication that he was willing to turn aside and consider the evil in his path. But before he could give Wan Taan Boo one last chance to turn aside, Wan Taan Boo spoke.

"But enough of this fruitless talk. We are on the battlefield. Let us engage in combat and see who comes out the victor."

The two continued pacing about one another. There was determination mingled with fire in their eyes. Finally, Wan Taan Boo charged Master Fenfarah and the two engaged in combat. Despite his age, Master Fenfarah proved to be quite adept at staving off the wild and flailing attacks of Wan Taan Boo. After a time, Wan Taan Boo began to feel frustrated. Master Fenfarah noticed this. The idea then came that he could set Wan Taan Boo up using his power. He waited patiently for the right moment to present itself, and then--without warning--a beam of white light moved from Master Fenfarah's shoulder, down his arm and through his staff, encapsulating Wan Taan Boo and sending him a good ten yards away from the point of impact. Wan Taan Boo got up holding his stomach. He was injured but he wasn't dead. There happened to be an expanse of orcs in the vicinity and Wan Taan Boo called for their assistance. They surrounded Master Fenfarah and he went on the defensive.