The Legends and Tales of The Orange Poet

The Legends and Tales of The Orange Poet is a collection of the works written by orangeguy111 or The Orange Poet. It explores the stories and legends of different nations.

=Introduction= The Orange Poet goes by many names: "The Travelling Poet", "The Orange Stranger" or just "Orange" (ign: orangeguy111). However, not much knows him more than his long posture and his pumpkin cloths. Even his face cannot be remembered, only to be an orange mist. He is a poet who creates legends and tales for the listeners to keep in their curious minds. He is indeed a mysterious man.

Adventurer and traveler, he is in many places at the same time, but no one knows his place of birth. In the clouds? In Haven? Imagination shall decide. The same happens with his race, a human, they cannot keep his identity for so long with their mouth that cannot stop, a elf, pointy ears, visible they are not, a dwarf, remember the long posture. We will never know for sure.

He is now minister of culture in Nullaria, a desert nation in Haven, origin of the Nullarian Tales

=The Legends and Tales of The Orange Poet =

Chapter 1: "Black Eyes"
When the pirate lord made his bed in the island of The Scurvy Shores, he heard ,with one ear, a light conversation from two natives. a mysterious artifact left by the former Barbossian fleet, a figure made in a darken metal probably worth No wiki formatting millions, in the far border of the sea. Of course, there were merchants after all, always thinking about gold. However, The pirate lord imagined the object in his hands, caressing the object, imagining his first treasure, not as something to sell, but as something to be proud of, his eyes were turning black. He ran to the shore, is vessel, washed into the beach, was a stolen one, damaged by the escape. The burning wood was still cracking to the weigth of the steel cannons and the sails felt like paper, the ones that no one could read. Not even a second later, not prepared at all, the crew was already running and pulling ropes in the middle of the blue waves.

They arrived, at last, to their destination. It was night, The crew, nervous, holding the boat to not crumble underneath them, looked in the distance. A mere patch of sand, tinier than a plume, was surrounding them in a U shape. The pirate lord, controlling the wheel, ordered the bark to be dropped and the shovels to be ready. He went with two of his men and touched the land with is feet, strange, the sand was black. "Like a mere shadow of itself", said the pirate Lord. him and his men, shovel at hand, started to dig. Hours passed and nothing was found, the island was almost gone, the treasure was gone. The sun rose in the horizon, revealing the yellow sand that was left. Wait, yellow sand? "was it not black earlier", the crew noticed. The pirate lord, turned his head to his ship, it was now black, like a mere shadow. Clouds were forming on top of them, rain started to crash, dark rain. The islanders rushed to the vessel, which was in the middle of giant tentacles, waving around like if it was showing off his prey. The pirate lord gripped on a loose board on the front and, that was when he started to fly. The others on the ground were small in seconds and the air was getting thicker. He climbed up to the ship, he saw his crew, terror in their poor souls, screaming for mercy, looking down at the mouth of teeth and the eclipse in his black eyes.The lord, on the contrary, was furious. "This ugly ass monster will not be my end, come and get me you pathetic scum!" The giant squid did not move an inch, and then started to rotate his plate. Men and women were dropping, miserably, one by one, like grains of salt trickled onto a perfect dish. The pirate Lord, the last on the ship, held the cracked main mast with his life. He then had an idea, he reached his sword and sawed the mast, finishing the job. The pole fell, with the pirate lord on top, penetrating the monster's mouth. We heard the shriek from miles. The vessel was free from his grasp, to sink, finally, in the abyss. The blue of the sea turned black

What rose from the sea was something of a fairy tale. An immense ship appeared, with at least twenty-four shining canons, ready to tear apart the hardest wood, black rims going around the vessel and a mast so large that it pierced throught the dark clouds and saw the sunlight. "The Eclipse, this would be the name" the Pirate Lord said, wheel at hand, seeing his crew laughing and enjoying life, seeing with his black eyes, stolen to the Kraken. However, the tale is not over yet, because the artifact is still at large, travelling in the dreams of many.

Chapter 2: "The artifact"
A winter night, the sea was becoming ice, a blueish white, frozen by the absence of heat, the Kraken had a cold heart. Instead of black rain, it was snowing, snowflakes of the purest colour. The Black Isles, blocked by the icebergs, were the most silent, in the strong winds. One of the corsairs entered the empty bar, she saw the pirate Lord, sipping in tea. "Hey Tea, you want company?" The pirate Lord slowly turned his head, showing his empty dark eyes, and accepted with a slight nod. Tyr Leuxos sat on the chair next to him. "I never asked but, your eyes, they are not so pleasant to look at." "I know, that Kraken wore them; now it’s my turn." Leux demanded a jug of beer and started to chug it. "The artifact is lost Leux, lost underneath the frozen sea, forever gone in time. I feel like I’m becoming more and more blind." Tea sipped his tea. "I abandon this doomed search." "Woah, wait. I knew Tea the boy, washed up surrounded by crates of tea. But now, I know Tea the Pirate Lord, slayer of the Kraken and captain of The Ecplise." She pointed to the massive vessel outside. "This war machine is yours, Pirate Lord, yours to conquer all the islands and become the richest man alive. Do you understand that?" Tea looked at her. "No, you don’t understand. The artifact is the only thing keeping me alive, that is why the Kraken was there, searching the same treasure as me." Leux was confused. "How do you know that?" "It is not important, what is the use of a boat when there is no destination in sight, I am cursed to turn into a monster." A crew member suddenly entered the bar in a hurry. "Pirate Lord, the artifact was found!" "Where?" said Leux, Tea was silent, drinking his tea. "Near the northern lands, on a floating corpse, an armada of ships covered with red." The pirate Lord spitted his drink, he turned his head. "Uraka..."

To be Continued...

"The Sand Kingdom Far Gone"
The dunes were high and the sky was low. The yellow orb, standing as a god, reflected the sand below. Zekro walked on his footprints, flooding around his battered shoes, knowing that no one will save him at all. He climbed up mountains of sand to only fall right after. His destination was unclear, like his vision, taken by the touch of the mighty sun. The council made a mistake, and he was the receiving end, the fight was not is own. "Nullaria" this land would be called, but the prosperous Nullaria the council dreamt was nowhere to be found. only a valley of yellow dust and of past civilisations, drowning in the sea of gold. And an oasis of hope appeared before him.... A single palm tree lived near a small pond. green and blue, colours that his eyes forgot. He ran to it, like a homeless men finding a penny, and started drinking the watery liquid his body desperately needed. "What a dream!" Zekro said out loud. But his mind was not much refreshed. He felt a touch of sand on his shoulder, the wind was making grain of sand fly, but he did not stop, too thirsty to stop. But he stopped to think, "what a good place to start it all"."indeed it is" said a mysterious voice. Zekro lifted his head, a woman, sitting on the other end of the oasis, covered with brown and yellow cloth. "What a surprise guest we have here" he continued. Zekro, surprised, rose up and cleaned his eyes, in case it was the work of his imagination. "Mind asking your name?" Still there, Zekro thought. "I am a member of the council of Uldarash, who are you and what are you doing in a desolate place like this?". The man smirked "Oh, i am Hinda, and welcome to what is left of Azei, the kingdom of sand long gone". Zeko finally understood everything

They started walking into the distance, climbed up a hill and Zekro saw it, The remnant of a village, almost entirely covered with golden sand. Pillars of a grand manor ended the one street, houses or shops, bordering the road, preyed to this palace, alas only a mere foundation of broken dreams. Zekro followed Hinda, traversing this serpent like passage, destroyed by age, houses passed them, they were barely standing, the colours of the markets vanished. Life was no more, death was omnipresent. "What happened to this place?" said Zekro. Hinda moved his finger to his mouth and shushed: "come, it is only the beginning". There was a port, with only one boat, stranded on the side, near giant farms, withered by time. Walls, the only protector, had holes like cheese, easy to attack. Trees were branches and bushes were tarnished. They arrived to the palace, bigger than the city, viewing the sun, roasted by it. Hindal welcomed Zekro inside, a wall of darkness, probably to hide into. Zekro entered first, confused of the beauty, "how" whispered he. Indeed, he never saw something like that before.

The hall was a green opera, plants were singing and the flowers were dancing with life. It was a grand hall, with the throne of the ancient king sitting in the centre of it all, beneath a hole through the ceiling. But the king was still there, without skin and only bone. “The king was there when I arrived,” said Hinda, “with his poor crown”. It was made of gold and jewels of blood, it looked so heavy. “With this much gold on his head, he would’ve needed a strong neck.” Noticed Zekro with a laugh. However, all the chests were empty, money was no more. Spent or stolen, a sad way to end, a suspicious way even. Zekro noticed something, markings were on the walls, carved there for generations, sentences sent for us by past victims. “A poisonous tooth shall protect the sand … bliss will reign over us … the greed of the king shall end us all.” Entire paragraphs were gone. “What does this mean?" “It is a prophecy, Azei did not listen,” Hinda responded. Zekro turned his head to the forgotten crown, his eyes bloomed over the object, as the sun reflected on it. “Beautiful,” he spoke his thought out loud. He slowly walked to it, manipulated by the red, gloomy eyes. Hinda noticed him, but it was too late. “NO! DO NOT TOUCH THE CROW…”. Zekro, finally happy, already wore it on his head. “No…”. The palace shook, pillars fell near him, not moving an inch. He closed his eyes and looked at the sky. There was no sun, only darkness. He let his vision clear, only to see. Another eye…

It was quick, the predator found his prey, finally to his mercy. He plunged through the hole, making a bigger one, but was only greeted by the grey floor. They avoided his attack. Hinda was there, not him, everyone but him. They ran to the entrance, to find out his tail was there too, blocking it. The monster encircled the condemned, hungry for greed. “We are stuck, death is our only escape!” the words of Hinda did not shake Zekro’s mind, he was iron willed, to accomplish what he was sent here to begin with. He removed his crown and climbed the green skin of the snake, he then ran to the lighthouse. The monster, surprised, flew to his meal, but these dammed houses and markets protected him. Hinda, not much time to think, mounted the snake’s tail and held on. Zekro zigzagged his way into the hazardous passages, to finally see the lighthouse, illuminating his path. Confused, the snake searched. Zekro finally reached it, but he felt the touch of his eye. He climbed quick, but not enough, the snake was at his heel, circling. Hinda then took his knife and plunged it into his rigid skin, he screamed of pain. It helped Zekro to finish his rise and was now holding the crown over the sea. The snake was enveloping the lighthouse and was ready to get his revenge. “Hinda!” scream Zekro, as he saw his friend falling to his end. He needed to finish it, once and for all. Zekro and the serpent stared at each other, the glorious jewels were the same as his red eyes. “Would you mind handing me over the crown?” Said the snake, with a giant smile, showing his many poisonous teeth, “The crown is for a king, not a thief like you”. And then, Zekro responded, “the blue sea, where the yellow sand stops”. He let go. The crown was now gone, forever, where the snake could not reach. The monster had his final scream and transformed into green stone. It was finally over. Hinda was on the ground, he did not move. Zekro ran to him and held her dying corpse.

“Do not worry, you will meet me again, lost on the sandy dunes,” “What? I don’t understand.” Hinda moved herhand to Zekro’s head. “I am only the work of your imagination, I was here to guide you, but now you have learned enough.” A single tear was on Zekro’s cheek, flowing to then fall through Hinda’s ghostly body. "Without you, i will be dead, below the sand or inside the snake, thank you." He said. “Goodbye my friend, but this is not over, you have a kingdom to create, I believe in you, King Zekro the First.” Hinda then slowly vanished into nothing. Zekro was now looking at the sand beneath him, flooding around his battered shoes.

"The Reality of Dreams"
Shovels dug, sand flew, creating a yellow mist in the air. It was a sunny day, columns of light passed through the palace, rebuilt in a never known glory. The city of Azei was recovering itself, showing is beautiful visage, like a butterfly of hope, flying over the new and hardworking settlers. A new king was at the throne, a king that promised change and prosperity for his people, and he delivered. Zekro would not make the mistakes of his predecessors, but his mind was occupied by another parasite. The mayor of Azei walks through the white and golden hall. "Greetings my king, Azei is almost completed, we found a cavern underneath the city, probably the serpent's work." Azepus stopped, looking at Zekro not paying attention. "My king? Is it Hinda again? You need to let it go, this thought will carve your brain like a pumpkin." Zekro did not respond. "She will come back, I am sure of it." "But when?" Finally said the king. "When and where? She knows what to do more than me. Oh, perhaps the oasis..." He stopped to think. "The capital of Nul'lari is expanding." He said, he stood up and walked outside with Azepus. "It will connect to Azei, making it the old city. Also the farms are going well..." Zekro suddenly froze, the lighthouse with the circling snake, remembering the fall, the fall of Hinda... "Sir?" An abrupt quake was heard in the distance, a cloud of smoke appeared over the sound. They quickly went to the area to see the cavern below, with a single arm sticking over the rocks. Azepus cried, "No! No! Not again! It’s the third time this week!" Zekro counted the survivors. "We are left with 10 people. Not enough to occupy this vast land." Azepus ordered to cover the huge scar.

Night came, the kingdom was asleep, instead of Zekro, on his uncomfortable throne. He could not sleep, scared of his recurrent dream, dreams of her. Surprisingly, a messenger appeared in front of him, he did not notice anything. “A message from one of your neighbours.” “Who?” said he, “Chevkri sir.” The king opened the letter, and his eyes did not believe it. He took his sword and, with a slight glimpse of his crown, quickly departed to the given location. He remembered the place, a single palm tree lived near a small pond. The oasis. Zekro then saw two people dancing and drinking, covered with red rugs. “Hey, what are you swines doing here?” The strangers looked up and saw what it looked like a normal traveller with an iron sword hidden by a large yellow cape covering his left arm. “A Nullarian! Haha, I thought you people were taller!” The giant approached them, revealing his true height. The strangers were not scared, but were only more unstable. “Obviously, us Chevrkians, salutes you, in the new oasis of wine and dance!” The other one goes behind Zekro and continues. “It is not a dream if one thinks it hard enough … haha” Zekro was not there to laugh, and not there to hear lies. He takes his silver sword.

The two drunkards immediately noticed something was wrong, they picked up their swords and ran to Zekro, screaming like false warriors. Zekro did not move, only visualized. He lifted his sword and blocked the attack to his head, the other one then tried to slash the bottom of his body, a weak point, but Zekro was faster. He saw his sword and cut the hand of the second attacker. The first was in the ground, the Nullarian blocked him so hard, he stumbled, he was confused of his force, only a “mere Nullarian”. Zekro was now satisfied, one on the ground, scared, and the other one, looking at his missing hand, blood on the sand. However, there was something strange, the particles of sand were moving, not like an earthquake, more like wind. Then, to their surprise, four bandits appeared through the dunes, four masked strangers with advanced armour, like a door to another world. Zekro then noticed another one jumping behind him, it stabbed him on his back; at least he had his armour. With little pain, he took the knife and turned to see another giant like him. He tried to attack him with a slow slice, yet the pain was growing in him, likely the blade was poisoned. To be sure, the stabber took a mechanized handgun and shot at him, the armour reflected it, still the poison was still inside. He stumbled on his knees, and on the ground, his vision dimmed into the dark. Hours passed.

Zekro woke up in a chair, his hands and feet bound to it. He was in a cave, one of the ancient snake’s lair, and it was massive, but now it was filled with tents and likely bandits, trying to live, desperately. Technologies like Sand bikes were parked everywhere, and dim lights barely illuminated the rest. One of them approached him and covered his vision, still the second he did, everyone looked at him. “It is probably the chef.” Zekro assumed. “Who are you, and what were you doing with Chevrkians?” Questioned the chef with a deep and modified voice. “Hum, I am Zekro, King Zekro the first of Nullaria.” They were surprised. “And I was only there because of a letter, noticing me of strangers in my territory, in my oasis.” The chief did not respond, but another one did. “It was I, the letter came from me.” The speaker was different than the others, small and lighter skin, he looked with his black eyes. “I am Poldi from Paloro, I am here to protect the borders from Chevkri, they became power hungry lately and, also, mostly drunk as you could see.” He pointed to the two drunkards, suspending upside down. “And this is the chief of this refugee camp, all from the past kingdom of Azei, your kingdom now, Nullaria.” The chief approved Poldi with a slight nod. “I am sorry for the backstabbing by the way, it was the only way to penetrate your impressive armour.” Continued the chief. “And the poison?” Zekro thought of asking, only to be interrupted by another refugee unbounded him. He rose up. “Thank you, but I did not need help.” He looked at the desperate refugees, looking back, weakened by power. “But these people certainly do, Nullaria is close and we need population, tell them to pack their bags, where is the entrance of this cave?” Then the cave moved, a real earthquake this time. Zekro knew this sound well in the distance, it could only be one thing. And it returned to his lair… “Quick! The snake is coming back!” Yelled the chief at the top of his lungs. “Get on your bikes, NOW!” They could sense his presence in the far unknown, approaching rapidly. Everybody else already left, but Zekro did not have a ride, luckily, the chief had a free place. “Hop on, QUICK!” He embarked on the mysterious machine and flew off. However, Zekro knew how quick the serpents were, and as he thought about it, it was just there. His elongated face and heavy smile did not help the situation. But it was not a similar face and smile, it was another snake. The chief caught up to the others, a faster bike, bigger wheels, a better driver. The resident was also catching up to the unfortunate visitors, plunging into one of them with a force that could destroy the world’s core. It was a distraction, they thought. “Sacrifices need to be made, the monster is gone now.” They almost reached the hole in the ground, they were finally free from the dead-end darkness, and welcomed by miles of light. However, smiles were transforming into expressions of worriness, and fear. Because the situation was morphing into a real dead end. Rocks were falling in front of them, crushing some unlucky ones, the ones closer to freedom. “Fuck, the smart bastard!” Cried Poldi. “What do we do?!” The chief stared vigorously at the rocks, he needed to finish it, once and for all. “Dig up a hole that you guys could fit through, we will go to finish the job.” Zekro, concerned, said, “We? Oh no I did not sign to kill anoth…” The bike turned around, making a dust float around the machine and flew off to the other direction. “Give me the thing in the bag,” said the chief to Zekro. He opened it, revealing a crown, smaller than the other crown now lost at sea, like a queen’s crown. “What! Another crown?” He was getting impatient, “I said, give it!” Zekro gave the queen’s crown to the chief and suddenly stops. They wait, the bait is up, now for the prey. Zekro, seeing no water around, anxiously said. “Hum, what are we gonna do when he shows up.” The chief looked at him. “It is a ‘she’, and ‘she’ does love golden things.” The snake showed up through the side, smiling at his find. “Would you mind handing me over the crown?” Proposed the female snake with a lying grin, “No one is gonna get hurt if the queen gets her crown.” The chief raised the crown over his head “This one? Come and get it.” The queen launched at them without waiting any longer. The chief took a knife and plunged into her skin, screaming “HOLD ME” to Zekro. They lashed on, the serpent, panicking, started circling to the surface, sand attacking their faces violently. And then, the sun was finally present with his yellow clothes, and the place familiar appeared with it, the blue oasis. The chief threw himself on the ground and, crown at hand, ran to it. Zekro was not so lucky, he was in the oasis, all wet. The queen snake looked at her crown, hovering over the small body of water, her eyes were red, like the jewels in the crown. Then, the chief spoke “The true oasis, where the hollow desert stops” Dropping the crown, for a second time. The snake did the form of an “s”, before being only stone, a statue of greed.

Zekro, now out of the pond, tried to damp himself. The chief looked at the king and said, “Thanks for your bravery Zekro, you are a great king, and we will need a great king to rule us all.” Zekro knew this voice, he heard it before. He removed his mask to show that he was a “she” as well. But not any “she”. “Hinda...” mumbled he. With her blackish and curly hair that he remembered so well. He ran and hugged her. “I finally found you, Hinda.” “How do you know my name?”She responded with a slight grin. “Do not worry about it, I will tell you the whole thing back home.” Hinda and Zekro walked to Nel'laria, like if the sand was escorting them. Finally, they were in control.

The week after, Zekro was sick, resting in his bed for days. A poison, said Azepus to Hinda, a poison only cured with a plant only seen far away, far away on the border of the world. “I will go and find this flower, to prove myself to him, to save him, it is my duty.” Spoke Azepus, in the alley near the bedroom. She responded, “I will stay here, Zekro needs me.” Hinda entered the room as Azepus ran to pick up his equipment. She sat near the death bed of the king and waited for him to wake up. She heard a slight noise, Zekro wanted to speak, and he spoke with an old voice. “Hinda, I have a proposal for you.” She leaned closer. “I want you to govern the kingdom while I wait, death will soon arrive.” She looked at him, shocked. “No, I was here for only a week, and you want me to rule Nullaria, this is nonsense!” “Hinda...” he slowly moved his head to see her. “Remember the tale, about the kingdom far gone, you showed me the city and saved me twice from the serpent, you are the only one that I trust.” "I was only a dream" she murmed. "The dream are sometimes real, if you think hard enough." She stared outside, a plane was flying in the horizon, the city grew. “Hinda look at me.” She did, a moment of silence lowered even more the tone of the king. “This is not over, you have a kingdom to continue, I believe in you, Queen Hinda of Nullaria.

The end.

The Walkers of Friholm
In the newly founded port of Friholm, there lies a tale that would change the city forever. The Azurian fleet, who were chasing the first Frilenders, was defeated in an epic battle, inside a crimson storm. The survivors arrived to the land while the others sank into the violent waves. The Frilenders, ordered by Captain Flunk, started the construction of the famous port. when they were finally done, the merchants were plenty, the people were happy, and with the blessing of bliss, the city grew larger and wealthy. However, the dead Azurians were not done. The storm was a weird one, reviving those who drowned inside his grasp. The many corpses stood up and started walking, deep down on the abyss floor.

The moon shining is white light, The Azurian's walker, Friholm in sight, begun walking. Three merchant ships were docked in the port, three merchant ships, dormant they laid, two massive and one small, three merchant ship, that would have seen better days. One of the captains went to return to his home, but it was no more, only a wrecked vessel was left. He tried calling his crew, but there was only silence, another captain came and wore the same expression. The last captain was dead, a death that a sea lover would never wished, on a cursed port. They alerted the guards but they came too late. The Azurian's were there, in the city, their bloody hands, and with their eyes drowned in fear.

Guards started to attack these ghouls, but with no success, there were already deceased. Half of the guards died in minutes, no Azurians fell. They started to roam the city streets, the people, inside their homes, shook and preyed that their doors do not budge. Nonetheless, the walkers are not there for them, their presence in this world is only justified by the existence of their prey. Jimmy Jim, the future husband of an Azcurian noble. The chase was for him, and they will succeed. But they did not know, that he left many moons ago. he was gone, and the walkers was stuck, cursed to wander near the port. They left the streets and the massacres to sleep in the bay. Boats were destroyed, lives were taking, thinking to be Jimmy Jim's. But they still Wait, waiting for the spouse to return.

Ch 1: "The Monster Inside us"
In a forest, way before the first written words, a small Vulpur nomad camp was hidden, near a long river, giver of water to the many hunted and hunters. Ten in total, they were. One of them, young, was sitting near the campfire, waiting for the dinner to arrive. Suddenly, A rasp and masculine voice made him jumped. "Hello Little one, what are you doing here, all alone?" Donho turned his head to see his mother, the head of the group. An orange skin, tall and bulky, really rare for a Vulpur, even more for a female. She trained men to fight for decades now, made the entire group warriors that could flee entire armies. But her son, how strange he was. A white fur and red eyes, not from his mother, nor his father, long gone under the dirt. Donho did not talk much, he was scared of everything, even of his own mother. She looked at him, not knowing what else to say. She sat beside him and finally said, with a slight sigh. "You know Dohno, you are different, but the group loves you nonetheless, Vinca and the others probably wanted you to come with them to hunt, my love." Donho knew already, he tried already. "Haha, really? you want to go hunting? You cannot even hold a spear properly, what are you gonna do? Stare at the prey until he cries, hahaha." She then left with his group, turning his back and laughing. Her older sister was better than him, in every way. Running, hunting, talking. But he kept his mouth quiet. Her mother then left the campfire, going to scream to a lousy teen once again. and that is when Donho had enough. he rose up. He will go hunting alone.

He walked to the armory tent, at least no one was there, only weapons, most of them were crafted with the hardest metal, too heavy for him. He tried lifting the spear. Donho thougth at himself, "finally, i will show Vinca how strong i am". When he was younger, her mother trained him, showing him how to handle a sword and throwing axes. He was now ready fir his first hunt. The giant lance was in his grasp, almost double his size, but it was a short victory. The tip immediatly struck the ground, shattering it in pieces. "Hardest metal? more like stone, ha!" He laughed to himself and picked up a stone axe, holding it like Lupdeus, the god of strengh. Leaving the tent, Donho saw her mother, still shadowing the thin Vulpur. "If we stay here any longer, the northen Vulpurs of the mountain will come and kill us all! You know very well they outnumber us." The mother was sick of the damned druid, Nathur, always predicting the end of the world. An increase of temperature followed by a famine he says. She smirked. "These northeners? I like those Vulpurs, always thinking to upgrade their gear, not realising they are pacifist. The chief was scared of me once, he gave me his best weapons, hehe." She became serious, "we will stay here, if they come, we will know in advance, I positioned 2 or 3 scouts in their direction. They will see nothing." Nathur left, with ears of hatred, to his hut near the river. The mother then turned his back, only to see his son, Donho, ligth in hand, entering the deep and black forest. In the middle of the nigth.

The sky was bright, full of stars illuminating the obscure Serrona, like campfires for the cold, cold dead. Vinca looked at them, while returning to the camp. One of them was his father, watching her steps, and those of his brother. “Hey, what are you looking at,” said one of his friends, “Nothing,” she responded swiftly, “I was only making sure of our direction, the stars are helping me”? He looked at her suspiciously and went ahead of her. “Are we there yet, Reli?” Mumbled the impatient. They climbed a hill, to see the smoke in the distance, moving upwards. “We are almost there, do not bother asking it again.” “OK, OK, you cannot tell me what to do.” They walked silently until a shadow quickly passed them in the right, Vinca saw it. “Guys, I think I saw some…” The shadow passed again, and Reli was not ready, he vanished with the shadow to the right, leaving only his weapon, and a screaming echo. The other boy, shocked, stumbled on the ground and moved to Vinca. “WHAT IS THAT!” Vinca equipped his sword and lifted his crying friend. “It is moving around us.” Said Vinca. “DON’T LEAVE ME PLEASE!” Said the boy gripping Vinca. “Stop being weak, Derem, we are warriors, remember your training, I will not let you die…” Suddenly, the monster grabbed the leg of the scared boy, pulling him, he vanished into the wild, already dead. Vinca was now alone, afraid, the monster then appeared in front of her. “No…” Dohno travelled through the rough forest, trying to find a single animal to hunt. “Everybody is sleeping, even the animals.” He said naively. He travelled some more, still nothing. His light was starting to quench, darkness was invading him. Only his white fur remained untouched, and blue eyes shined in the nothingness. He jumped, dropping the remaining fire, and fled to the other direction, only to meet a wall of rocks. The fire started to rise, burning the trees around, forming a circle of flames, and revealing the monster. It was a Keket, a colossus winged serpent, silent as a falling leaf, massive as a tree. Dohno then saw Vinca, her sister, laying there, unconscious. The Keket launched his tail toward him like a whip, Dohno avoids it by jumping over the tale and makes it to her sister. “Vinca! Vinca! Wake up!” He then equipped his tiny axe and throws it at the serpent. Doing absolutely nothing, the Keket even looks like if he is laughing at his failed attempt. Feeling powerless, he tries to move Vinca to the corner of the facade, but the serpent his quicker, but her mother even more. Appearing out of nowhere, she threw her spear in his neck and launched to it, gripping the spear plunged into the monster’s scale. But the Keket made her fall before she could make her final blow. The spear fell near Donho, he looked at it like the shining sword of Lupdeus. “It is my time to prove myself…” Donho took the spear and, while throwing it, he saw her sister waking up from her painful dream. Not seeing her mother in front of him. The spear hit the wrong prey. Bleeding, and seeing the fire calming down, the Keket took this opportunity to fly away, to the star lights. Donho screamed “no” the loudest he could. He ran to his dying mother. “Fly away,” said her, “fly away like the Keket, because you will be hunted like a Keket.” The boy cried, took his mother’s spear and flew away in the dark.

"Mother, we are here, at your service, to show you the hands of Lupulldea, the goddess of death." It was night. The whole camp was reunited and stood around the body of their founder, their mother, near a lake connected with the sea. Nathur, being the druid of the group, spoke for everyone, except for Dohno, who was alone in the dark. 'Mother, you were our protector, our trainer, our saviour. You deserve to bath in the celestial waters and to be warmth by the fire of our candles." Nathur looked at two hunters and nodded at them, signifying that it is time. They then picked up the plank underneath her, to make her float on the lake, reflecting the stars in the sky like if she was sailing on the cosmos. The hunters cried on their brother’s and sister’s shoulders, making their last goodbyes. However, Vinca had no one to cry with, no brother, no parents. She was also alone. Seeing Nathur leaving, she walked to him. "Nathur, please, Donho needs to be here, with us, she is his mother after all." Nathur looked down at her with a powerful air. "I already said it and i will not change my mind, Donho is a murderer, he killed her mother, our mother! We do not want a killer of our own kind in our camp." They stared at each other. "Now dismiss, i want to sleep." He walked to the leader's tent. Vinca was supposed to sleep in that tent, but she was wounded when they chose the leader. And Nathur had something that nobody had, he could see the future. Tomorrow, he said that they needed to move north, fight the weakened Vulpurs in the mountains because their territories had more minerals and opportunity. "Prepare your weapons," he said, "We will invade them with their own steel. I assure you, nothing will go wrong..."

Ch 2: "Those who Control our World"
Seven years later, agriculture spread to all the Vulpinian land, creating villages and started making trade with the others. Yet, the deep forests were the same, still nesting many groups of nomads, they did not trust the popular grain that was conquering the soil everywhere, their territories were getting smaller overtime. One of them was alone, but he did not care about the villages, he even probably wished to accounter one, he was only lost, with no goal in mind. A campfire for his cold feet and some leaves for a bed, bandits were near, he knew it already, their presence was difficult to miss. His ears were big indeed. One of the bandits whispered to the other three, “The boy is here, we need him alive, so do not try to kill him.” Once he finished, a spear suddenly appeared in a tree near them, moving up and down by the throwing force. “I think he knows, boss.” Their faces expressed fear, he was in front of them, a late teenager with a long pony tail ending on his shoulder. The boy cracked his neck to warm off before the fight and waited for the bandits to start running at him, a mocking grin on his pale face. The first swing of a knife avoided, he showed his stone axe and punched the attacker with it on his stomach, following with a vertical slice underneath his chin like an uppercut, making him fall on his back. Another one had a sword, trying his best to reach his neck, only to be meeting with an axe on the side of his face. The boy, nearly avoiding an arrow, then quickly ran to his spear and threw it at the third one, resulting with three dead, one left. “Where is he, hiding like a scared kid?” he thought with a grin. Ah, he was behind him, how mediocre. The boy turned and kick the bandit with a roundabout and he fell unconscious. Donho was not impressed, he went to take back his axe, plunged into an eye, and went back to his now dead campfire. “Damn, i just made it, argh.” He thought aloud while searching for wood. But, violently, he gets knocked out by the first scared bandit. His red eyes now on the dirt. “Poor boy, now it is time to get rich, ha ha ha.” He woke up the other one and kidnapped Donho to their camp.

The camp was not far, but it was a tiny one, on top of a mountain, overlooking the vast forest. Dohno woke up in a cage, like if he was a mere animal. He opened his eye, his head was hurting him, a heavy brain in his hands. Donho then looked in front of him, another Vulpin, grey this time, same age, but a little bit smaller than him. The other prisoner was waiting for the attention, it seemed. “Hi, what’s your name?” Bonho did not respond, strangers are not of his interest. “Well, keep your mouth shut if you want, name’s Gate, nice to meet ya.” What does he want? He thought with an unhappy look. Attention can lure danger, probably the reason he is with him, stuck with him. Ironically, he said. “Do you want to know why I was captured?” Of course, yap about your boring story, old man. “I was talking to other Vulpins, trying to pass out deals, because I am a wonderful merchant you see. OK so, I was talking to them, they seemed pretty decent lads, and then, one showed up, tall and bulky, oh yeah this fella.” He pointed to one of the bandits, tall and bulky indeed. “And then, poof, I am here, that’s an origin story perfect for a story innit? Hehe.” Donho, observing around him, was trying to see how to bust the lock open. “What a good story indeed, stranger.” He said, only to make him stop. “Well, thanks mate, been a while I did not tell a tale like this.” Attention hit. A rock was behind the stranger, big enough to break the lock. Donho whispered. “Hey, can you pass me this rock right there?” “What?” He screamed. “That rock?” A bandit came to see what was going on, and leaned on the iron door. Shit, it was like if he did that on purpose. He looked at the stranger outfit with a large smile. “The bear over there, you see him?” What bear? Donho looked at a huge bear in another cage, with pants and boots. ’That is an Ursidus. A rare specimen, also very dangerous. Now he is looking peaceful, but if you only tap him with a slight touch, he becomes mad hehe.” Donho had a sudden idea, surging like an Hyandeus gift. He picks a pebble in front of him and throws at the bear. The Ursidus turned his head to him, his mouth full of saliva and rage. The thing then destroys the door, making the bandit at the other side fly into a tree. “Now it’s the time.” Donho choked the guard through the bars and stole his keys. Easy Freedom, until he caught the eyes of the bear. Oh no… After killing the whole camp, he was an easy prey. Then, Gate appeared out of nowhere. “Hey Hey, calm down buddy, he did that only to get us free mate.” The Ursidus calmed down. His eyes were becoming normal.”Oh, my excuses, little things can annoy me sometimes.” What a beautiful accent for a huge and wild bear. “My name is Vlad, I am for the north.” Gate looked at the confuse Vulpin"Here you go Donho, that’s a decent man.” “Wait, how do you know my name?” Gate suddenly realized. “Well.. uhm … you were quite popular, I guess, uhm… In the day…”"The kid who killed her own mother. Information like that can travel fast.” Said Vlad. He understood. “But it doesn’t mean you are a bad fox, it could only be an accident." "It was, an accident." Immediately told Bonho. Vlad, uncomfortable, broke the discussion. "Your axe, it looks old and used, I know a blacksmith in a northern town, he is a friend, cheap and tough." Donho looked at his broken axe. "Yes, we need to move."

To be continued...

The Mountain of the Red Waterfall
Told by The Orange Poet

She had a dream. While she was asleep in her comfortable bed, a dream of the future. The sun shined through the window, and in her eye, waking her with a shock. She touched her head, like if it was hurting her, the dream was violent. A violin was singing outside, she lifted her head to see the musician. He played well, this mysterious man, a hymn that her ears needed, after her loud sleep. Goobie went to her sink and washed her face, her eyes wanted to be blind after this experience, she looked at her face, her red face. The guardian stepped outside her house and watched her nation, Montroig, on a bench, inside a lovely park. The nation climbed a high hill to end up like this, bliss in the air, people enjoying life. She will not let it fail, "and let it vanish under the waterfall", she thought, red flower at hand. "I have a perfect vase for you, little one." Goobie rose up, The Mage will be his next destination, the dream shall stop at once.

"Why...I do not understand, it does not make sense!" The Auroran king was circling his white throne, thinking, scratching his head, desperate, breaking some vases. Argon, his most trustworthy general, was standing there in front of him, his eyes were following the fast-moving king, trying to find sense into this madness. "The last reunion made her more popular, after an act like that, it cannot be swept away like a mere feather!" He stopped at the back of his throne, gripping it like if it would fly away. "We need to do something Argon, and fast." "What would it be, my king." Argon said. He looked at him, a torch was lighting his crowned head, like an aura. "Her reign shall stop at once..."

“Dreams like this can be the foreshadowing tale of the future, miss.” Said the mage while processing the violent contents of it. They were in a small wooden room with no windows, in the heart of Terroja, the capital of Montroig. We could smell the dead silverfish being inspected in the corner. “And this vision seems to not be really the positive kind, I fear.” She looked at him, worried. “So what do I do to prevent this?” The mage turned his back to her and took a potion. “Take this with you, I cannot tell you the effects, only to drink it when the event happens, the dream will be gone forever, I promise, OK?” Goobie nodded and left the small house. The potion wore no colours, it was transparent like water. The park with the small pond was still there in front of her, full of life. She took her red flower out of her bag and analyzed it, the flower was starting to fade and needed to drink, anxiety will drive her mad if she thinks too much about it. Goobie was now in her house, sitting in her favourite chair, flower in a pot and potion at hand. Fear in mind. A reunion with her most trusted general was taking place tomorrow. She needed to sleep, even though her dream will be the first thing that she will see. Sacrifices need to be made.

Argon stepped in the training room. "Kennedy, come here!" He stopped punching the red bag and went to see his general. "I have a task for you Kennedy, as you are the recruit that I like the most." The soldier stared at Argon with a massive smile like if he arrived with good news. "I need you to assassinate Goobie, the guardian of Montroig." The smile was gone, now replaced with mild confusion. "Whoa, what, I cannot kill a leader like that." Argon gripped his strained shoulders. "Kennedy, you are the only one capable of doing this task. The king will promote you to general and, more importantly, I will be proud of you. You have potential to do great things, kid." Kennedy did not recognize the general lie and agreed to do the mission. The general left the room and stayed an instant in the corridor. Naiveté is never a good trait, more if you lie to a young adult like Kennedy. He was not feeling sure with the idea, being a spy for too long makes you sympathize with the people. Being a spy in Montroig, he would not be able to kill Goobie. She was a good leader, a good person even.

The day went by calmly. The guardian was leaving the building when Argon showed up. "Hey, you did a great presentation today, I was really honoured." She smiled at him. "Well, thank you Argon, being my most trusted general, giving you medals for your service and presenting your many exploits are easy for me." She paused. "I am proud of you Argon, you have potential to do great things." She left him with a pat on his shoulder. It is painful to know, that she will die outside this very door. Argon looked at her, opening the door peacefully, like if everything was fine, like if life will continue. It was not fine, his heart will not let her die. He ran outside as fast as a dove. The sun was shining too bright, but he finally saw Kennedy near her, a revolver in his pocket. Argon quickly throws himself at Kennedy, making him miss his shot to her head, only to be shot on his abdomen. "Gooby!! Are you OK?" She showed a single nod. Argon looked at Kennedy, Kennedy looked at his master, not knowing what is going on. "Do not worry, ma'am, I have control of the situation." He took Kennedy at a hidden back alley. "What is going on?" The boy said, the confusion of a naive kid. The alley was dark, a projection of the clouds above. "Change of plan..." Argon pointed his gun to the boy's face. "What...But you said...." He started crying. "I don’t want to die! Please!" The desperation. Argon hesitated, but he needed to make it disappear, forever. "I....am sorry." The sound of a gun makes crows fly. It started to rain. Argon was in his knees, his back protected him from the cries of the gods. Why? He thought, a tear on his cheek. Kennedy will no more believe in a poor lie. Not anymore. Trust is a destroyer of worlds.

To be continued...

The Bizarre Adventure of Barend Kramer
With the help of BarendKramer

A young boy endlessly strayed into a burning field. The innocent arrived at the aftermath, of a violent war. He looked up at the clear sky, the blue was friendlier than the crimson red on the ground, but his eyes dropped, oh God. Bodies of the two kinds, bloody hands devoid of life, heads that will never think again. The boy kept walking onto lost faces, and suddenly stopped, he saw him. Tears silently dropped, as the sky mixed with the earth, he ran to him. But the “him” could not hear his cries of fear. His father was no more. The boy dropped on his knees near his father, trying to feel his unconscious heart. Yet the boy was chained, to be a slave for a rich enemy family. He cried some more, sharing his sadness to the senseless, and was then harshly pulled up on his two feet. “Come on boy, leave your parents alone, they will never see you again.” The warrior laughed with a mad cry. He did not stop looking at him, the blue overrun his dirty face. Until the sky split open, with clouds of thunder and pure anger. The boy finally saw him for the first time, his eternal saviour, Barend was saved.

Kramer only saw total oblivion, and a livid cry was living in his ears, like a distant creaking door. When he noticed he was sitting in a chair, he knew something was wrong. His limbs were stuck by an invisible rope and a wooden cabin formed around him. A door appeared, to be open by a stranger with a clown mask. His red eyes and massive mouth were visible through the abomination. The stranger kept his watch on him while he was slowly closing the door, making a familiar sound. “You seem to be a good fellow, Barend.” He started to say, with the smile of a maniac. “But do you truly like yourself? Serious as a straight back, peaceful as a leaf on a tree?” The stranger circled Barend, observing the boring man. He suddenly and roughly touched Barend’s face with his own. “You are so lifeless, Barend. Do you want to change? HAHAHAHAHA...” The laughter of a mad god. Kramer wanted to say “NO” the loudest he could, but his mouth only mumbled. The maniac continued his cry of bliss while dropping a torch, burning a circle around the bound. "Goodbye, old friend, HAHA." The cabin lighted like the sun and, soon-to-be dust, Barend left the chair, looking at the single window. It transformed into a mirror, he saw his own fear, the fear of change. He woke up. Another fucking nightmare, he was covered with sweat, and touched his heavy forehead. The next hour was a silent one, making his breakfast without a thought in mind. Being one of the ministers of this nation, he needed his thoughts for the early meeting. That is when he appeared once again, revealing himself with an open window, letting in the strong wind.

"Having a bad morning?" Barend jumped out of his chair. "YOU?! AGAIN?!" he got up with his chair at hand, looking at his saviour. "Yes, me again, i am here for an important matter." "An important matter?" The man screamed, "What do you mean? You disappeared completely after you saved me, now you just show up, like 14 years later, for an important matter?!" Anger and confusion were rotting in his face. The god approached him. "It is about your nightmare, and..." He looked at the table, a medical potion sat in the middle of it. "Whatever this is, who gave you this?" Barend took it and protected with his arms. "It is for my nightmares, ironically, after the event, strange dreams fill my sleep." "What event?" The all-knowing questioned. "Well, it happened right after the civil war":

To be continued...

The Iron-Teeth Jester
With the help of TMaterial

We start the story with the loneliest man. His family was gone, under the ground. For having insulted the grandfather of the Dante family. They were brutal, even more if the person is a nobody. Thomas Mathew's was this nobody, it was all his fault. But insulting was a bit much compared with what he said. "Purple was not a very good colour on him, anyway." He thought. The Mathews was a poor family, always crossing the Dante's high roads, near the silent harbours.

Thomas was a comedian, an expert in it. He was called the King Jester for a reason. The other families of the region adored him and the theatre was always full of laughs and grin. But, now, the Dante family was the most powerful of them all. They were closing theatres left and right, only to block his only talent. They tortured him ,day after day, forced him to eat rocks, making his smile not enjoyable to watch. And then, his poor family. Thomas was unlucky to be the example. Despite his peaceful status, he was existing only to spite. "I cannot live with this!" He said in his sad shack. "The exterior will change my forsaken mind."

However, everything changed. On a grey and gloomy night, Thomas discovered a cave. He entered it, lamp at hand, and explored it fully. The cave had a mysterious feeling fuming in his crevasses. There was a hole in the end, curious, he jumped and saw a dark stone, levitating in front of him. "What is that magic?" A grey mist was surrounding it, like if the colour was trying to escape the prison that is the stone. Thomas approached it, the stone did the same. Suddenly, it flew right through his body at a speed is eyes did not perceive. He screamed. Weakened and confuse, he turned his head, the stone was there, now white like a pearl. He fainted on the ground. The next day, grandfather Dante had heard about the little adventures of Mathew's. He ordered three of his goons to go to his house and burn it for good. "Scums like him will be exterminated! Is this understood!" When the goons arrived, Thomas was inside of his home, unconscious on his bed. They poked at him with their bats and torch sticks. He did not move. However, the goons turned and he was suddenly in front of the door, his head looking at the wooden floor. The jester slowly revealed his cursed identity: the face was not human, his teeth were sharp like a mechanized shark, and his eyes. Oh his purple eyes! They were tired of serving. He was transformed into a pure monster, thirsty for crimson blood. The goons tried to flee by the window, scared, finally. But it was too late, they would not escape this hut alive.

The night passed, and his appearance returned to a normal, powerless and poor comedian. He destroyed his own house, now the tomb of the goons. "I need the stone, it is the only way to lift my damn curse." He said to himself, hiding in an abandoned alley.

To this day, people, in the night, see, on rooftops, a strange man wearing a purple and black jester costume, and metallic sparkles in his massive mouth. This is where the legend of Iron-Teeth Jester was born. But they did not know who was the true monster of the story. The grandfather acquired the pearly stone, The Iron-Teeth Jester will have his sweet vengeance. The roles are now reversed.