There was a deadly silence in the trone foom of Silvarnil. Then suddenly, it was broken as the large wooden doors was opened.
- His lord, the high Prince Tristan Windspinner. Back from his journey.
Tristan walked over the floor to his father's throne. His face were troubled
and his steps heavy.
- My, son. Welcome back. I was almost starting to worry when we hadn't heard from you for so many days.
Noogal looked at his son, and saw his troubled face.
- I fear the worst my son. What news do you bring?
Tristan took a moment to gather his thoughts, and spoke:
- It has turned out as we feared. Both the Bahlar and the Ragdash tribe are moving. We have spotted ocs far from their home villages. We even met with a few scouts in the Drakmore, but don't fear father, they will never return to tell their story. I also did as you told me and rode through Astori, where I met with Lord Hagen of the Plainsriders. I was welcomed and was invited to a meeting together with some of his ministers. As you said I could do, I signed a temporary treaty with the humans, just saying that we would not invade their lands, and they would leave us alone. Though if the orc threat became great, we should arrange a council with Lord Hagen and his ministers.
- Good my son, you have made me proud, as always.
- What have happened here, since I left?
- Our messager from the Hill dwarves of Mithdale has returned and also brought us good news. We have nothing to fear from them either.
- And what about our southern cousins?
- The answer has arrived, positive. Maybe we can't trust them as individuals, but as a tribe, they stand by their words. Lord Smygelfh is a fair leader. But this news you bring me my son, about the orcs, must be carefully discussed. We must immediately gather the council.
- Yes father.
Tristan left the throne room.
- Guard, Noogal called.
- Yes, my king.
- Bring word to the high priestess Llwyn, and tell her I want to meet with her as soon as possible, we must open the tombs.
The guard looked at his king in astonishment, but out of respect and trust, he left to carry out his orders, though he could not belive his ears. Opening the tombs...The TOMBS...
The Great Wesley extends a welcome to all wizards who wish to vist the jungles of Aztonia. This amazonian city is hidden in the dense jungle of the Baltar Tropics. The wealth of wood makes it an ideal place to trade.
Come visit a while and meet the famed amazonian women.
The Great Wesley of Aztonia
The dark elves live in the southern Drakmore forest, where they do their best for a decent living. Even though they have a fair leader, Lord Smygelfh The Dark, their hatred against humans and orcs often take them into unessacary battles. But then, these evil creatures have violence and treachery as a part of their society, and can rarely be trusted. The only way to find a trustworthly dark elf is to offer him a more benefitial target of treachery.
We, the plainsriders from the great plains of Astoria, send you our greetings.
The famous plains of Astoria are covered by wild running horses and you can easily spot lots of cowboys trying to catch them. The capital city of Astoria lies in the center of these plains and one can have a fine few from it's high towers.
We hope to meet you in peace or battle soon, so we can set up a fine party at a campfire and tell you some of our great stories about the ancient heros, which lifed in our plains.
Hagen, leader of the plainsriders
Hurrying forward, you reach the top of the dune. You couldn't help keep a sigh of dismay from reaching your lips, as you find the spire is just that, the tip of a spire, buried in sand. Whatever inhabitants would have left eons ago, or learnt to breathe sand, an unlikely event.
By the side of the spire, you see a wooden board. Moving forward, you brush off some sand from the board, and read the words carved there. Hmmm ... interesting ... it says "Uther waz here" in broad flowing scripts, albeit orcish-like. There were two deep cuts across the "waz" word, as if someone was trying to erase it. Another word can be seen above it, something like "lies". Ah ha ! So either Uther was here, or Uther lies here. Either way, you don't really care who was here, nor feel very interested in digging up any corpse.
Say ! What is that thing !!! A "Chug-Chug" sound seems to come out from the wind. You peer into the swirling sands, and lo ! there is something flying in the sky, a mechanical contraption. It seemed to see you, and was heading your way. Nearer it comes, and you can see it clearly now. A bulky looking object, with something twirling on the top. How it kept aloft is a mystery, but it seems to have something to do with that metallic looking box that is belching out greasy smoke and giving off that "Chugging" sound. However, what is more surprising, is that the pilot is not one of the mysterious Sand People, but a Gnome !
The 'thopter landed in a flurry of blowing sand, and you hurry forward. After exhausting your own small store of known Gnomish words, which alternately asked after their health, cursing their ancestors, and description of various sexual positions, you manage to wrangle a ride. The 'thopter lifted, after you sat on the only passenger seat. As the 'thopter is moving as less than 15 feet off the ground, you have a pleasant but dusty ride. Minutes later, you reach a field, where more of such thingamics are present, in various conditions. After thanking the pilot with what you think are salutations of his health (what was said was actually "May I happily eat shit", due to a few mispronounced syllables), you leave the chortling pilot rolling on the ground. Seeing what you think are SandPeople nearby, you walk over to them ...
Greetings to my fellow tyrants.
Allow me to introduce myself. I'm Uther One-eye, loveable leader of the Bahlar Swamp Orcs. Picture, if you will, a stout jolly chap, one eye shut in a permanent cheerful wink and that's me. Sometimes people (well ... more like things than people really) have even confused me with Sandy Claws. So when I come calling do leave the door open and I'll have a nice surprise for you. Ho ho ho!
"We're not evil, we're just misunderstood."
P.S. For the discerning wizard ...
Uncle Uther's Helpful Hints for Warring Wizards