《The Last King of Dymoria》 Tandor is Burning Across the sprawling continent of Hayrah stood four mighty kingdoms, each distinct in its rule and realm. In the west lay Ferakus, governed by the wise and venerable Queen Lonandra. To the east rose Domfloor, under the iron fist of the fearsome and notoriously wicked Lord Mudrak. Nestled at the heart of the land was the Kingdom of Dymoria, where King Hocken strove to maintain a semblance of honour and dignity. Together, these three realms formed the great kingdoms of humankind. Yet in the north, amid the desolate, jagged wastelands, sprawled the fourth and largest domain: Thrakka. This bleak kingdom was ruled by King Frak, the goblin sovereign, an undisputed lord of decadence and malevolence. For years, Hayrah had basked in a fragile peace, but that tranquillity was now on the brink of collapse. Within the Kingdom of Dymoria, unrest simmered, fueled by the ominous gathering of Lord Mudrak¡¯s armies in the east. King Hocken, increasingly anxious, sensed an invasion looming, though its timing remained shrouded in uncertainty. His son and heir, Prince Harrold¡ªself-styled as "the Heroic"¡ªhad abandoned his duties at the Royal Court months earlier, leaving the capital with his fretful servant, Anthrak, to idle away the summer in the sun-drenched coastal cities of the south. But King Hocken, fearing the eastern threat, had summoned his wayward son back to the capital with urgency. Reluctantly, Prince Harrold turned northward, bound for the great capital city of Bangorod. And so, kind and gentle reader, it is here¡ªon this weary march home through the dark forest of Flangor¡ªthat we join Harrold and Anthrak.
¡°I¡¯m famished,¡± Harrold declared, reaching for his wine flask, his third-favored remedy for any inconvenience. ¡°Why didn¡¯t you pack more provisions?¡± ¡°My apologies, Harrold,¡± said Anthrak, trudging beside the prince on foot. ¡°I misjudged our needs for the journey. I¡¯m hungry too.¡± ¡°Always excuses with you.¡± Harrold reined in his horse and took a generous swig from the flask. His mount, Basilius, a towering black stallion snorted and pawed the ground restlessly before nipping at Anthrak¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Ow!¡± Anthrak yelped, stumbling back. ¡°Don¡¯t stand so close, then!¡± ¡°You¡¯re a fool sometimes.¡± ¡°Sorry, Harrold. Basilius has a vicious bite.¡± ¡°Good lad,¡± Harrold said with a grin, leaning forward to pat the horse¡¯s muscled neck. Basilius, a magnificent beast bred from the renowned Miura war horses of Kemly Rock, had been a gift for Harrold¡¯s sixteenth birthday. Originally named Maximus, the prince had rechristened him after the legendary Dymorian hero, Basilius the Great. Pausing, Harrold stowed his flask. ¡°Did you hear that?¡± he asked, tilting his head. ¡°Something¡¯s up ahead in the trees.¡± ¡°What? What do you hear?¡± ¡°I think I heard laughter. Could be goblins.¡± ¡°Goblins?¡± Anthrak whispered, paling. ¡°You¡¯re hearing goblins?¡± ¡°Yes, goblins,¡± Harrold confirmed, a faint smirk playing on his lips. ¡°Gods help us,¡± Anthrak whimpered. ¡°If they catch us, we¡¯re finished.¡± ¡°Depends how many there are.¡± ¡°But what would goblins be doing this far south? I thought your father wiped them out.¡± Indeed, King Hocken had waged a relentless campaign against Dymoria¡¯s goblin tribes, reducing them to near extinction. ¡°So I thought,¡± Harrold mused, ¡°but I¡¯ve heard whispers lately¡ªrumors that a few tribes linger in the Flangor.¡± If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. ¡°What rumors?¡± Anthrak pressed. ¡°That goblins have crept back into our forests.¡± ¡°You¡¯re just trying to frighten me.¡± Harrold chuckled. ¡°I¡¯m not. And if there are goblins, then we¡¯ll drive them off.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t want to fight,¡± Anthrak protested. ¡°I¡¯m terrified of goblins. They killed my father, you know¡ªright before my eyes.¡± ¡°Yes, I recall,¡± Harrold sighed, his tone softening briefly. ¡°You¡¯ve told me a hundred times how you and your mother fled your village in terror.¡± ¡°I was lucky to survive,¡± ¡°Anyway, enough of this. Let¡¯s press on to Tandor. We¡¯ll rest there for the night.¡± ¡°Yes, Tandor,¡± Anthrak agreed, brightening slightly. ¡°A warm bed sounds heavenly.¡± ¡°Just keep your eyes sharp for goblins,¡± Harrold warned. ¡°They could be lurking anywhere.¡± The pair continued through the shadowed forest. After a time, Anthrak spotted a solitary rider approaching. ¡°Who¡¯s that?¡± he whispered, tugging at Harrold¡¯s boot. ¡°A bandit, perhaps?¡± ¡°How should I know? Just stay back and let me handle it.¡± They halted, watching as the hooded figure drew near and stopped before them. ¡°Good sirs,¡± the rider began gravely, ¡°I bear dire tidings from Tandor. A grim night has descended.¡± ¡°What news?¡± Harrold demanded. ¡°This very evening,¡± the rider said, ¡°Tandor was overrun by a horde of bracken goblins. They breached the gates, pillaged the town, and left countless innocents dead in their wake.¡± ¡°Goblins?¡± Anthrak whimpered. ¡°Why would they attack?¡± ¡°We¡¯re headed to Tandor now,¡± Harrold said, undeterred. ¡°How many did you see?¡± ¡°A legion,¡± the rider replied. ¡°Hundreds¡ªghoul upon ghoul. They descended at dusk and set the town ablaze.¡± ¡°So the rumors hold truth,¡± Harrold murmured. ¡°Rumors?¡± the rider inquired. ¡°I¡¯ve heard tales of goblins returning to the kingdom,¡± Harrold explained. ¡°Thought nothing concrete.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve heard the same,¡± the rider admitted, ¡°but this was no mere tribe. It was a calculated assault by an organised army.¡± ¡°Calculated?¡± Anthrak echoed, glancing up at Harrold. ¡°We should turn back¡ªnow.¡± ¡°No one¡¯s turning back,¡± Harrold snapped, nudging Anthrak with his boot. To the rider, he asked, ¡°What of Tandor¡¯s defenses?¡± ¡°They were overwhelmed. I¡¯d wager four hundred goblins at least. Maybe five hundred.¡± ¡°Five hundred?¡± Anthrak gasped, panic rising. ¡°Regrettable indeed,¡± the rider said. ¡°I urge you both to flee while you can. The hour of the goblin is upon us.¡± ¡°I¡¯m no coward,¡± Harrold declared. ¡®We are moving to Tandor. Goblins or no.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t doubt your courage, sir,¡± the rider replied, ¡°but wisdom might counsel retreat.¡± ¡°I am Prince Harrold, heir to Dymoria¡¯s throne,¡± Harrold proclaimed, throwing back his hood. ¡°I¡¯ll not flee from any filthy goblins.¡± ¡°Prince Harrold?¡± The rider¡¯s tone shifted to reverence. ¡°Forgive my familiarity, Your Highness. Had I known, I¡¯d have knelt at once.¡± ¡°Why have you fled Tandor? Are you a deserter?¡± ¡°No deserter, Your Highness,¡± the rider assured him. ¡°I¡¯m a humble merchant, traveling south to Saint-Marlo. I crossed the White Fang River at dusk and saw the attack from the Burrough Hill.¡± ¡°Very well,¡± Harrold said. ¡°Won¡¯t you join us?¡± ¡°I¡¯m an old man, more burden than aid. I wish you luck.¡± With that, he rode past and vanished into the night. ¡°Coward,¡± Harrold muttered as he took a generous swig from his wine bottle. ¡°So what now?¡± Anthrak asked. ¡°Do we turn back?¡± ¡°Turn back? We press on to Tandor. If it¡¯s fallen, I¡¯ll raise an army and reclaim it. This kingdom will one day be mine.¡± ¡°As you say,¡± Anthrak replied, voice quaking. They journeyed on, eventually reaching a crossroads. Turning northeast, they left the forest and ascended Burrough Hill. From its crest, Tandor came into view¡ªa blazing inferno against the night sky, thick plumes of smoke curling upward. ¡°It¡¯s burning fiercely,¡± Harrold said, sipping from his flask. ¡°We¡¯d best hurry.¡± ¡°Is that wise?¡± Anthrak ventured. ¡°Perhaps we should steer clear.¡± ¡°We¡¯re not avoiding anything,¡± Harrold retorted, delivering a firm kick. ¡°I¡¯ll cut down any goblin we meet. You¡¯ll see.¡± With resolve set, the prince and his servant descended the hill, pressing onward toward the embattled town of Tandor. The Ravages Of Goblins As Harrold and Anthrak drew near Tandor, the night sky blazed with an orange glow, as though a million fireflies had ignited the horizon. The wind carried faint, anguished screams, and the air grew heavy with the sharp, acrid stench of charred flesh. Tandor, a sprawling town of over two thousand souls, was ill-equipped for such an assault. Unlike a fortified city, it lacked a moat or drawbridge, relying instead on a flimsy wooden palisade and a handful of weathered guard towers. With no standing garrison, its defense rested on a modest band of guardsmen¡ªhardly a match for what now engulfed it. ¡°Gods above,¡± Anthrak muttered, wrinkling his nose. ¡°I can smell the burning from here. I think it¡¯s bodies.¡± ¡°Focus,¡± Harrold snapped, his gaze fixed ahead. ¡°And keep your eyes peeled.¡± ¡°We should turn back. We¡¯re in grave danger. We need to avoid the town.¡± ¡°Toughen up, you wretch!¡± Harrold bellowed, his patience fraying. ¡°I¡¯m sick of your endless whining. Even Basilius has more spine than you¡ªand he doesn¡¯t moan about smells or goblins.¡± ¡°You¡¯re right. Even the horse outdoes me. I need to harden myself¡ªbecome tough like Basilius.¡± Harrold exhaled a plume of pipe smoke, eyeing him warily. ¡°That better not be sarcasm. You know I despise it.¡± ¡°No sarcasm, Harrold,¡± Anthrak insisted earnestly. ¡°I mean it. I want to be as steadfast as Basilius.¡± ¡°You¡¯d better¡­and once we¡¯re back at my father¡¯s castle, I¡¯m teaching you to wield a sword.¡± ¡°A servant with a sword? I¡¯ve never needed one before.¡± ¡°You need to grow some grit,¡± Harrold retorted. ¡°It¡¯s past time you learned combat. When Lord Mudrak invades, you¡¯ll be fighting¡ªwhether you like it or not.¡± ¡°You¡¯re right. I¡¯ll need to fight and to be strong like Basilius.¡± ¡°Of course I¡¯m right,¡± Harrold said, puffing out his chest. ¡°Mudrak¡¯s amassed a vast army to seize my father¡¯s kingdom, and you¡¯ll be expected to stand and die with honor.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll learn to fight and fall nobly, my prince. But remind me¡ªwhy¡¯s Mudrak invading again?¡± ¡°I¡¯ve told you a thousand times. He¡¯s after our gold mines. He ignored us until we struck riches.¡± ¡°That¡¯s vile,¡± Anthrak said, shaking his head. ¡°Utterly vile.¡± ¡°Mudrak¡¯s a ruthless cur, coveting what¡¯s ours. Now, let¡¯s hasten to Tandor and see what¡¯s afoot.¡± ¡°There¡¯s so much fire down there,¡± Anthrak observed, staring at the glow. ¡°Yes, I can see that.¡± ¡°Will there be goblins?¡± ¡°Plenty, I¡¯d wager. And you¡¯d better slay any you spot.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll try, Harrold,¡± Anthrak vowed faintly. ¡°I¡¯ll try.¡± They descended the hill, crossing darkened fields until they reached Tandor¡¯s outskirts. At the wooden gates, a harrowing scene unfolded: corpses¡ªhuman and goblin alike¡ªlay strewn across the ground, the air thick with the reek of burning flesh. Just beyond the gate, a woman knelt, sobbing as she cradled a wounded soldier. His head rested in her lap, and she dabbed his brow with a damp cloth. ¡°Please wake up, my love,¡± she wept. ¡°Please.¡± Harrold dismounted Basilius and approached her. ¡°Is he dead?¡± ¡°Dying,¡± she choked out. ¡°He¡¯s slipping away.¡± ¡°How many goblins?¡± Harrold pressed. ¡°He¡¯s my husband,¡± she cried, clutching the soldier tighter. ¡°He was a town guard.¡± ¡°How many goblins? When did they strike?¡± ¡°At sunset,¡± she said, tears streaming. ¡°Hordes of them poured from the forest, cutting down everyone¡ªfarmers in the fields, women, children.¡± ¡°Bracken goblins?¡± Anthrak ventured timidly. ¡°No,¡± she sobbed. ¡°They bore the banner of the pale moon.¡± ¡°Thrakka?¡± Harrold¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°Goblins from Thrakka?¡± ¡°The guards tried to hold them¡­but there were too many. Wave after wave broke the gates. It was slaughter¡ªpure butchery. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. ¡°Thrakka goblins?¡± Anthrak echoed, turning to Harrold. ¡°From the north?¡± ¡°The horror,¡± the woman wailed. ¡°The sheer horror!¡± ¡°This isn¡¯t good,¡± Harrold muttered, drawing deeply on his pipe. ¡°Is the town master alive? I need to speak with him.¡± ¡°No one¡¯s left,¡± she the woman cried. ¡°They¡¯re all dead. The town¡¯s rubble now¡ªdon¡¯t you hear it burning?¡± ¡°We should go around,¡± Anthrak suggested. ¡°There¡¯s nothing to do here.¡± ¡°We¡¯re not skirting it,¡± Harrold said, unsheathing his sword. ¡°We¡¯re going in.¡± He mounted Basilius again and trotted through the gate, Anthrak trailing reluctantly behind. Within Tandor, chaos reigned. Piles of bodies lined the streets, their screams mingling with the roar of flames. The fire burned a fierce red, smoke choking the air as ash fell like grim snowflakes. ¡°This is ghastly,¡± Anthrak said, his voice trembling. ¡°Truly ghastly.¡± ¡°Toughen up!¡± Harrold barked. ¡°What did you expect?¡± ¡°Forgive me. I can¡¯t stomach it. It makes me anxious. I feel like I¡¯m going to faint.¡¯ ¡°There will be no fainting today, and when Mudrak¡¯s armies arrive, you¡¯ll see worse. We have no time for your nerves.¡± ¡°You¡¯re right. I must adapt. I mustn''t faint.¡¯ As they passed a blazing church, a goblin lunged from the shadows, axe raised, its yellowed teeth glinting. ¡°You cheeky fuckers should¡¯ve stayed home,¡± it cackled. ¡°I¡¯ll carve you to pieces!¡± Basilius, ever vigilant, wheeled to face the threat. In a flash, Harrold leapt from the saddle, sword drawn. The goblin swung its axe, but Harrold dodged and parried, then cleaved its head clean off with a single stroke. Blood sprayed like dark ribbons, and the creature crumpled. ¡°Anthrak, you spineless cur!¡± Harrold roared, sheathing his blade. ¡°Get back here!¡± Anthrak emerged from beneath a cart, brushing off dirt. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Harrold. I¡¯m such a coward.¡± Harrold seized his arm. ¡°If we¡¯re to reach my father¡¯s castle alive, I need you with me¡ªnot cowering in mud. I can¡¯t have you bolting at every shadow.¡± ¡°Forgive me, it¡¯s my nature. After my father¡¯s death, violence undoes me.¡± Harrold¡¯s expression softened briefly. ¡°Stick close and stay alert. We don¡¯t know how many more lurk here.¡± He took Basilius¡¯s reins and led the horse down a cobbled street, Anthrak following. Amid the carnage, a man limped from a burning tavern, sword in hand, an arrow protruding from his leg. ¡°Oi!¡± Harrold called. ¡°You there!¡± The man turned and hobbled over. ¡°Who are you? Travelers? Merchants?¡± ¡°I¡¯m Prince Harrold, son of King Hocken. This is my servant, Anthrak.¡± ¡°My prince,¡± the guard rasped, bowing awkwardly. ¡°I didn¡¯t recognize you.¡± ¡°No formalities,¡± Harrold said. ¡°What happened here?¡± ¡°Goblins from Thrakka, sire. Hundreds. They hit at dusk and breached the northern wall.¡± ¡°You¡¯re sure they were Thrakka¡¯s?¡± ¡°Aye, they flew the pale moon banner,¡± the guard confirmed, wiping blood from his face. ¡°They slaughtered without mercy. We pushed them out, but at a terrible cost. Too many good men fell.¡± ¡°How many guards remain?¡± ¡°Most are dead.¡± ¡°The town master¡ªis he alive?¡± Harrold pressed. ¡°I must speak with him.¡± ¡°He died fighting. The goblins took his head, mounted it on a pike, and paraded it through the streets.¡± ¡°I¡¯m going to faint,¡± Anthrak mumbled, sinking to the ground and burying his head between his knees. ¡°Get up!¡± Harrold snapped, kicking him. ¡°No time for that.¡± To the guard, he said, ¡°What do you need?¡± ¡°Flee, sire. Flee now and don¡¯t turn back.¡± ¡°Yes, let¡¯s go,¡± Anthrak agreed, scrambling up. ¡°He¡¯s right.¡± ¡°I can fight,¡± Harrold insisted. ¡°Tell us where to stand.¡± ¡°The town¡¯s lost,¡± the guard said. ¡°Goblins still prowl the woods. It¡¯s only a matter of time before they come back.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll not be driven off.¡± ¡°You¡¯re a fine swordsman, I¡¯m sure,¡± the guard said, gripping Harrold¡¯s shoulder, ¡°but you must leave. Go to the capital and send for aid.¡± ¡°That¡¯s wise,¡± Anthrak interjected. ¡°We should go.¡± A horn blared in the distance, followed by the ominous thud of drums. ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± Anthrak asked, voice trembling. ¡°What in the bloody hell is that!¡± ¡°Goblin war drums,¡± the guard said. ¡°They¡¯re rallying for a second wave.¡± ¡°Then we¡¯ll face them,¡± Harrold declared. ¡°Drive them back.¡± ¡°No, sire,¡± the guard said sternly. ¡°The first was their vanguard. This is the main force. You can¡¯t win this. You must flee.¡± ¡°Let¡¯s flee,¡± Anthrak pleaded. ¡°Now. Flee to safety and then send for help.¡± ¡°I¡¯m no coward,¡± Harrold retorted. ¡°I¡¯ll fight to the end. Goblins won¡¯t hold my father¡¯s land.¡± ¡°Only a fool fights a hopeless battle,¡± the guard countered. ¡°Flee, my prince. Tell the king we died bravely¡ªlike true soldiers.¡± The drums grew louder, shouts rising from the walls. Harrold hesitated, then relented. ¡°Fine. Let¡¯s go.¡± ¡°Thank the gods,¡± Anthrak breathed. ¡°We¡¯ll send help from the capital,¡± Harrold told the guard. ¡°I¡¯ll tell my father what happened here. You Shall not be forgotten.¡± ¡°Yes, we¡¯ll send aid,¡± Anthrak added, ¡°once we¡¯re safe and warm.¡± The guard smiled faintly. ¡°Go now, young prince. May the spirits guide you.¡± He limped toward the ramparts and vanished into the smoke. ¡°Climb up,¡± Harrold said, offering Anthrak his hand. Anthrak clambered onto Basilius¡¯s back, clutching Harrold tightly. ¡°Let¡¯s move¡ªbefore they catch us.¡± ¡°Hold fast,¡± Harrold said, spurring Basilius into a gallop. The horse surged through the desolate streets, leaping an iron fence and bursting through the northern gate into the open meadows beyond. Glancing back, Harrold saw goblin hordes spilling from the woods, their frenzied cries piercing the night as flaming arrows arced skyward. He knew Tandor would fall by dawn. The Village And The Big Man After escaping the burning ruin of Tandor, Harrold and Anthrak pressed on through the long, dark night. At sunrise, half-frozen and stiff, they stumbled into a small village tucked on the outskirts of Flangor, deep in the Fenland Valley¡ªjust a day¡¯s ride from the capital of Bangorod. The prince and his servant, shivering and exhausted, felt hunger gnawing at their insides. Their clothes were damp with frost and their breath visible in the chilly dawn. They hoped the village, with its cluster of hovels and outbuildings, might provide beds and food to restore their strength. ¡°We¡¯ll stop here and rest,¡± Harrold said, steering Basilius through the wooden gate. ¡°Food and a good drink." They passed through another gate into the village, and they were met by an unsettling silence. Apart from a few pigs and goats foraging in the mud, the place seemed deserted. Over two dozen hovels stood alongside a tavern and a small church, yet no villagers stirred¡ªan oddity for the bustling northern lands. ¡°Where is everyone?¡± Anthrak whispered. ¡°It looks deserted.¡± ¡°How the bloody hell should I know?¡± Harrold snapped. ¡°Do I look like a village person? Now get off the horse and go and knock on one of those doors. And make it snappy!" ¡°But which door shall I knock on?¡± ¡°Any of them!" Harrold glanced around the empty village, then pointed at the nearest home - a hunched little home, its walls made from mud and brick, its thatched roof old and sagging "The door of one of that one over there. And make sure you knock good and hard - wake these lazy bastards up." ¡°What if people are sleeping inside?¡± Anthrak said nervously. ¡°We might wake someone up.¡± ¡°I couldn¡¯t give a shit if there are people inside. Now go and get their lazy arses up. I¡¯m hungry and I need a drink." ¡°Whatever you say, my all-knowing prince,¡± Anthrak muttered as he dismounted Basilius. ¡°Was that sarcasm?¡± ¡°When?¡± Anthrak asked innocently. ¡°What sarcasm?¡± ¡°Just then, when you called me an ¡®all-knowing prince.¡¯ Were you being sarcastic?¡± ¡°No, I was being sincere. After all, you are all-knowing. Everyone says so. All the girls in the capital are always saying how handsome, brave, and all-knowing you are.¡± ¡°Hmmm...well, I guess that is true. Fair enough. Now go and over there and give that door a good knocking." Mud squelched underfoot as Anthrak trudged through across the sodden grass to the nearest hovel. He walked up the cobbled steps and knocked gently. No reply came. He waited a few moments and knocked again¡ªstill nothing. Turning to Harrold with a confused look, he shrugged. ¡°Knock again, harder!" Harrold demanded. ¡°Pound that door. Kick it, if necessary. Wake the bastards up!¡± Anthrak turned back and rapped the door firmly. Suddenly, a loud crash and shouting erupted from within. Startled, Anthrak stumbled back a few steps. A man¡¯s voice bellowed, ¡°Who the fuck¡¯s knocking at this time in the fucking morning!" Anthrak took another step back. The shouting continued: "Get my fucking crossbow now!¡± Then the door flung open with a loud thud, revealing a large, muscular bald man in his just undergarments. ¡°What the fuck do you want, you little shit?¡± he bellowed, stepping towards Anthrak and shoving him hard in the chest. ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Anthrak whimpered. ¡°I don¡¯t know what I want. I just knocked. Please forgive me." "Forgive you?" The big man shoved him again. ¡°Are you messing with me, you little shit?" ¡°I don¡¯t know what I¡¯m doing,¡± Anthrak said, his voice trembling. ¡°For the love of god, just don¡¯t hurt me.¡± "Don''t know what you''re doing?" Another shove sent Anthrak tumbling down into the rancid mud. He then began crawling toward Harrold, but the man trailed him and kicked him squarely up the arse, sending him sliding through the mud. ¡°Halt!¡± Harrold shouted. ¡°Stop right there, you big ox!¡± ¡°Or what?¡± the big man yelled back. ¡°Do you want some as well?¡± ¡°Leave my servant alone, you big bastard." Leave him alone, and then get back in your hovel and fetch me some ale.¡± The man stepped over Anthrak and spat into the mud, then marched straight up to Harrold, his fists clenched, his face red. Looking up with menacing eyes, ¡°Right, I¡¯m gonna give you and your poxy servant one chance to bugger off. And f you don¡¯t...well, I¡¯ll go back in my hovel and get my hammer, then break both your legs. "Oh you will, will you?" "I will! And when I¡¯ve broken your legs, I¡¯ll break both your skulls.¡± ¡°Listen, you ignorant swine,¡± Harrold said coolly. ¡°Do you have any idea who I am?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t give a fuck who you are, you little shit! Now leave, whilst I¡¯ll still let ya.¡± Then, from inside the hovel, an old woman emerged, screeching and waving a frying pan in the air. ¡°What the fuck¡¯s going on out here then? I¡¯m tryna sleep.¡± She saw Anthrak in the mud and pointed. ¡°Who¡¯s this little shit and what¡¯s he doing in the mud?¡± ¡°Get back to bed, Mum!¡± the big man shouted. ¡°These two arseholes were just leaving.¡± He looked back at Harrold. ¡°Ain¡¯t that right? You two arseholes were just leaving.¡± Harrold sighed, swung his leg over the saddle, and dismounted Basilius. Striding up to the man, ¡°Listen, you big oaf, get back in your hovel and bring me some ale. Do it now, and I¡¯ll consider letting you live.¡± Unlike Anthrak, Harrold was tall and well-built, but the big man¡ªbuilt like a Flangor troll¡ªtowered over him. Yet Harrold stood fearless where Anthrak would¡¯ve quailed. The man laughed, leaned forward, spat into the mud, then turned to the old woman. ¡°Mum, bring my big hammer. Things are about to get nice and tasty.¡± This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. ¡°The big one or the small one?¡± she asked. ¡°The big one! Bring me my fighting hammer.¡± ¡°One fighting hammer coming up,¡± the old woman said as she scurried back into the hovel, and while she rummaged inside, Harrold and the big man stared each other down in silence. Finally, the man grinned and said. ¡°Once I¡¯ve finished with you, I¡¯m gonna crush the skull of your cowardly little friend over there, and then I¡¯m gonna feed both of you to the pigs.¡± ¡°Please don¡¯t feed me to the pigs,¡± Anthrak whimpered from the mud. ¡°I won¡¯t taste good. I¡¯m of poor nutritional value.¡± ¡°Anthrak, you cowardly bastard!¡± Harrold shouted. ¡°Get up and fetch my longsword from the saddle." ¡°Yes, my prince. Right away,¡± Anthrak said, rising quickly and wiping mud from his robe. He hurried to Basilius and unclipped one of the two sheaths from the saddle. Harrold was in the habit of carrying two swords: a short sword, ideal for tight quarters and paired with a shield, and a two-handed longsword, better suited for duels and armoured foes. Anthrak drew the mighty longsword and returned to Harrold. ¡°Here you go, my prince,¡± he said, handing it over. ¡°What an absolute pair of morons,¡± the big man laughed. He then grabbed Harrold¡¯s arm, ¡°The sword ain¡¯t a match for the hammer. Swords are for whimps¡ªproper men fight with hammers.¡± ¡°We shall see,¡± Harrold said, pushing him back. ¡°We shall see who¡¯s the whimp.¡± Then the old woman reappeared, hefting a large two-handed hammer. ¡°Here we go, son,¡± she said, passing it to the man, "your favourite fighting hammer. Now teach these two little shits a lesson.¡± Anthrak took Basilius by the reins and led him aside. ¡°Right, let¡¯s have it,¡± the big man growled, swinging the hammer around. ¡°You and me, one on one.¡± ¡°Stay back, Anthrak,¡± Harrold warned. ¡°Things are about to get messy.¡± ¡°Staying back,¡± Anthrak replied. ¡°Staying far back.¡± Harrold took his stance, waiting for the first move. The man swung the hammer overhead, raining down a heavy blow, but Harrold dodged easily. ¡°Go on, son! Smack him!¡± the old woman shrieked. ¡°Smack him good and hard. Teach him a lesson." Harrold backstepped, gripping the longsword firmly in both hands. His breath quickened, heart racing, but his expression stayed calm and collected. An experienced swordsman, he knew his task. The big man sneered, ¡°I¡¯m just getting warmed up. This next one¡¯s for you.¡± Another heavy swing¡ªHarrold dodged and swung back, missing the mans throat by a hair. ¡°That the best you got, you little ponce?¡± the man laughed, raising the hammer again. ¡°Smash him, son!¡± the old woman shrieked, clapping excitedly. ¡°Smash him good and proper!¡± Harrold circled his opponent, eyes fixed on the man¡¯s stance, noting every shift. He knew his longsword couldn¡¯t block the hammer¡¯s heavy iron head¡ªits strength was in thrusting, not slashing. Then the man lunged again, swinging low to smash Harrold¡¯s legs. The prince leapt back, the hammer skimming the dirt, and then he darted forward and drove the first inch of his blade into the man¡¯s well muscled shoulder. Blood welled as he yanked the sword free, stepping back as quickly as he came. The man grinned, glancing at the bleeding wound. ¡°You keep dancing, little prince,¡± he snarled. Harrold narrowed his eyes. The hammer was slow¡ªhe could exploit that, but he needed to strike at the vitals. And as the man raised it overhead and swung again, Harrold darted aside. The hammer struck the ground, then Harrold took his chance. He lunged, thrusting the longsword deep into the upper portion of the man¡¯s thigh. Blood gushed and streaked as he withdrew the blade. The man staggered, dropping the hammer into the wet. ¡°My leg!¡± he screamed, collapsing into the mud. ¡°My fucking leg!¡± Harrold advanced, drawing back the longsword for a fatal strike. ¡°Enough!¡± a voice suddenly cried. ¡°Stop this at awful business at once!¡± An old bearded priest come running from the church, a religious book clasped in one hand. ¡°I demand you stop this violence immediately. " ¡°This has nothing to do with you,¡± Harrold snapped back. ¡°Now piss off back into your church.¡± He then raised his sword, aiming to cleave the man¡¯s head from his shoulders. But before he could deliver strike, the priest stepped between them. ¡°No more blood shall be spilt today!¡± ¡°Step aside, priest,¡± Harrold demanded. ¡°Step aside or I¡¯ll finish you with him.¡± ¡°I shall not,¡± the priest replied, holding up his religious text ¡°even if you are a prince.¡± ¡°Prince?¡± the big man groaned, sitting in the mud. ¡°You mean this fella¡¯s a prince?¡± ¡°Yes, Mongo,¡± the priest said sternly, ¡°and you should know better. I¡¯ve warned you about fighting in the street. It¡¯s¡­ungodly.¡± ¡°Sorry, priest,¡± Mongo groaned. ¡°Thought they were chancers, what with all the robbing and killing lately." ¡°Now go inside and have your mother tend that wound,¡± the priest instructed. ¡°I¡¯ll deal with this." Mongo rose slowly and limped back towards his hovel. ¡°Bloody rich ponces,¡± the old woman hissed as she turned and trailed her son. ¡°What kind of stupid name is Mongo?¡± Harrold laughed, planting his sword firmly in the ground. ¡°Never mind him,¡± the priest said. ¡°Now...may I ask what you¡¯re doing in this village?¡± ¡°I¡¯m the king¡¯s son,¡± Harrold replied, pulling his pipe from his pocket. ¡°I can be wherever I want¡ªI don¡¯t need permission for this stupid village.¡± ¡°Yes...I recognised you¡± the priest said, ¡°but it¡¯s not safe here. Not for anyone right now.¡± ¡°Yeah, and why¡¯s that?¡± ¡°The Fenland and its surrounding villages have been the victim of repeated raids as of late We don¡¯t know who¡¯s behind them, but many have been killed.¡± ¡°Bandits?¡± ¡°Perhaps. It started a few months ago. We¡¯ve even had sightings of a troll in the forest.¡± ¡°A troll?¡± Anthrak piped up. ¡°There hasn¡¯t been a troll in northern Dymoria for centuries." ¡°Yeah, exactly,¡± Harrold scoffed. ¡°There aren¡¯t any trolls in these parts.¡± ¡°I¡¯m just relaying what I¡¯ve heard,¡± the priest said. ¡°Besides, there¡¯s an army gathering on our eastern border, and I think all these strange goings-on are tied to that.¡± ¡°You know about the impending invasion?¡± Harrold asked, squinting. ¡°Of course. Everyone does. That scoundrel Mudrak¡¯s been positioning his armies near the border for the past year. Only the Lord knows what''s he planning to get out of all of this." ¡°You¡¯ve seen them?¡± Anthrak asked, his voice trembling. "The armies?" ¡°Look, I¡¯m not standing out here in the cold to discuss this,¡± the priest said. ¡°Come inside the church and we¡¯ll talk like gentlemen. I¡¯ve got hot water on; I can make you each a cup of chargrill tea each.¡± ¡°Yes, a nice cup of tea,¡± Anthrak said excitedly. ¡°That will do us both the world of good.¡± ¡°Suits me,¡± Harrold said, yanking his longsword from the ground. ¡°I¡¯ll send my nephew to stable your horse,¡± the priest added, pointing at Basilius. ¡°Wolves have been prowling the village as of late, and I¡¯d rather they not find another easy meal.¡± Anthrak''s face paled. ¡°Wolves?¡± Harrold turned on him. ¡°Of course there are fucking wolves,¡± ¡°Watch your language, boy!¡± the priest snapped. ¡°I won¡¯t tolerate swearing.¡± He sighed deeply. ¡°We¡¯ll catch hypothermia if we stay out here. Follow me.¡± With that, he turned and strode toward the church. ¡°I¡¯m not a boy,¡± Harrold grumbled. A Conversation With The Priest Anthrak and Harrold followed the priest across the square, their boots squelching in the sodden grime. The old church loomed ahead through the morning mist, a huddled fortress of grey stone, its weathered door scarred with carvings and rusted hinges. Then a faint wind whistled through the village, stirring the branches of nearby trees and carrying the distant howl of a wolf¡ªor perhaps something worse. Inside the church, the air was cold and musty, tinged with the scent of woodsmoke and candle wax. An oak table stood near the entrance, flanked by a scattering of crooked chairs. Ahead, benches lined the walls, worn smooth and dark by years of faithful arses, and a simple pulpit rose at the far end. Harrold¡¯s sharp eyes immediately latched onto a large wooden chest that rested on the table, its iron hinges glinting faintly in the dim light, almost like it was calling him. ¡°This is a nice church,¡± Anthrak said, his voice soft with reverence. ¡°I¡¯m always at my calmest when I¡¯m in a church. Something about the quiet eases my soul.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll just wake my nephew to stable your horse,¡± the priest replied, brushing past them toward the back. ¡°He lives in a hut in the garden. I won¡¯t be a moment.¡± With a creak of hinges, he slipped through a small door at the rear of the church, leaving the two alone. ¡°Do you think there¡¯ll be biscuits with the tea?¡± Anthrak said, fidgeting with the hem of his mud-streaked cloak. ¡°How the hell should I know?¡± Harrold shot back, already prowling the room. ¡°Do I look like the sort who nibbles biscuits? Anyway, let¡¯s have a look around while the old man¡¯s gone.¡± ¡°Look for what?¡± ¡°Gold,¡± Harrold said, a sly grin spreading across his face. ¡°I¡¯d wager this priest has some stashed away. These preachy types love their treasures¡ªgold, silver, maybe even a diamond or two.¡± ¡°You want to steal from the church? You can¡¯t steal from anyone, let alone a church.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not stealing, I¡¯m borrowing. And a prince has rights, you know. Now, go outside and stand by the door and keep watch for that old codger.¡± ¡°Keep watch?¡± ¡°Yeah, be my lookout. Give me a warning when he comes back.¡± ¡°What kind of warning?¡± ¡®Oh, I don¡¯t know. Try and make the sound of a crow or something.¡± ¡°This doesn¡¯t feel right,¡± Anthrak muttered, wringing his hands. ¡°Stealing¡¯s wrong¡ªit just feels so wrong.¡± ¡°It isn¡¯t wrong when you¡¯re the prince of Dymoria. I can do whatever I damn well please.¡± Then a sudden, loud knock rattled the door, cutting through the stillness like a fighting hammer on stone. ¡°The priest¡¯s back,¡± Anthrak whispered. ¡°He knows we¡¯re stealing!¡± ¡°Why would he knock on his own door?¡± Harrold scoffed, prying at the chest¡¯s lid with his dagger. ¡°Just ignore it. They¡¯ll bugger off soon enough.¡± ¡°Maybe he forgot his keys?¡± ¡°Or maybe it¡¯s the gods that come to smite us.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t joke about that,¡± Anthrak snapped. ¡°You know my faith means something to me.¡± ¡°Sure it does.¡± The knocking grew louder. Insistent. After a moment, Harrold¡¯s patience snapped. ¡°Open the bloody door. Maybe the old fool did forget his keys.¡± Anthrak shuffled over and cracked the door just enough to peek outside. A young woman stood in the cold, her long red hair catching the faint sunlight, cascading in loose waves. Freckles dusted her rosy cheeks, and her blue eyes flickered like wet stones. He shut the door quickly. ¡°There¡¯s a girl out there. I don¡¯t know what she wants.¡± ¡°Of course you don¡¯t, you haven¡¯t asked her,¡± Harrold snapped. ¡°Were you born this stupid?¡± Anthrak hesitated, then cracked the door again. ¡°Hello,¡± he said meekly. ¡°Can I help you?¡± ¡°Hello,¡± the girl replied gently.¡°Is the priest here?¡± ¡°He was. I mean¡­he¡¯s just stepped out, but he was here.¡± ¡°Ask her what she wants,¡± Harrold hissed from across the room. ¡°May I ask what you want?¡± ¡°It¡¯s fine, I¡¯ll stop by later,¡± she said, brushing her hair behind her ear. ¡°I just need to speak with the priest about my brother.¡± ¡°Shall I tell him you came by?¡± ¡°No need. I only wanted to let him know I¡¯m taking my sheep into the woods to graze. It¡¯s not urgent.¡± And with that, she smiled, turned and walked off. ¡°What the hell did she want?¡± Anthrax closed the door. ¡°She¡¯s a shepherd girl, I think. She mentioned sheep.¡± ¡°Sheep? Who gives a damn about sheep? You should¡¯ve brought her in¡ªmight¡¯ve been worth a chat.¡± ¡°Women make me nervous,¡± Anthrak whispered, his cheeks flushing red. ¡°They really do.¡± ¡°Nervous!¡± Harrold barked a laugh. ¡°Pathetic.¡± He finally got the chest open and began rifling through it¡ªold scrolls, a tarnished candlestick, a few moth-eaten cloths, but no gold. ¡°Look at all this old crap!¡± Anthrak shifted uncomfortably, wishing Harrold¡¯s tongue weren¡¯t so sharp. ¡°Next time a girl comes by, I¡¯ll invite her in,¡± he said, forcing bravado into his voice. ¡°I¡¯ll talk to her, you¡¯ll see.¡± ¡°Yeah, sure you will,¡± Harrold snorted. ¡°When we get home, you can watch me charm Ava. Of all the girls in Dymoria, she¡¯s the one who adores me most.¡± ¡°Oh, I¡¯m sure she does,¡± Anthrak replied, a faint trace of sarcasm slipping through. Just then, the priest suddenly reentered through the back door, his eyes narrowing as he spotted Harrold at the chest. ¡°Is everything alright in here? Are you finding what you need?¡± Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. ¡°All fine, priest,¡± Harrold said, slamming the lid shut. ¡°Just looking for a bite to eat. Very hungry, you see. ¡°Hmmm¡­I see. Well, no need to rummage further. I¡¯ve fresh rolls and ale in my bag.¡± The priest set a brown leather bag upon the table with a soft thud. ¡°Where¡¯s my horse?¡± Harrold demanded. ¡°Have you stabled him?¡± ¡°No worries there¡ªmy nephew¡¯s tending to him now. He¡¯ll be fed and watered.¡± ¡°Can I have a cup of tea?¡± Anthrak asked politely. ¡°Of course, my boy,¡± the priest said, crossing to the hearth where a black iron kettle steamed over a low fire. ¡°Would you like sugar and milk?¡± ¡°Yes, please.¡± ¡°And you, Prince Harrold? Tea and sugar?¡± ¡°Just ale for me,¡± Harrold replied, slumping into a chair. ¡°And a few of those rolls.¡± Anthrak settled beside Harrold at the creaky wooden table, its surface scarred from years of use, as the priest rummaged in his worn leather bag. With a faint grunt, he pulled out a handful of crusty bread rolls¡ªgolden-brown, still warm from the oven¡ªand set them down. ¡°Help yourselves, lads,¡± he said, turning to the hearth where a black iron kettle hissed over spitting embers. He gripped its handle with a rag and poured two steaming cups of tea, the dark amber liquid swirling faint. ¡°I¡¯m bloody starving,¡± Harrold declared as he tore into a bread roll.¡°Haven¡¯t eaten since Flangor. Fucking Anthrak lost our supplies crossing the Nord River.¡± ¡°Must you swear so much?¡± the priest sighed. ¡°Yes, I lost the supplies,¡± Anthrak admitted quietly. ¡°They went under when we forded the river.¡± ¡°No matter,¡± the priest said kindly. ¡°Eat as much bread as you like. I only wish I had more to offer.¡± ¡°Got any ale, priest?¡± Harrold said. The priest placed a wooden tankard in front of Harrold, then uncorked a large leather flask, pouring a frothy brown stream into it. ¡°Here you are.¡± Harrold downed it in one long gulp. They sat in silence for a stretch, the crackle of the fire filling the room. Harrold broke it first, turning to the priest. ¡°So, what do you know about Domfloor?¡± The priest let out a heavy sigh, his gaze drifting to the flickering flames. ¡°A long time ago, I lived there. It feels like another life now. Domfloor was different then¡ªmore like Dymoria in its prime. People were free, life was prosperous. A golden age, you might say.¡± ¡°Domfloor like Dymoria?¡± Harrold scoffed. ¡°Hard to swallow that.¡± ¡°Many would agree,¡± the priest said, ¡°but I recall when Domfloor shone. Its cities drew travelers from across the world¡ªart, music, culture, all thriving with a vibrancy you¡¯d hardly believe. Then¡­ things changed.¡± ¡°What changed?¡± Harrold pressed, lighting his pipe with a match. ¡°The goblins of Thrakka invaded from the north. A brutal time¡ªblood and fire and ash. Many a poor soul perished..¡± ¡°Goblins took Domfloor?¡± Harrold asked, puffing out a cloud of smoke in the priest¡¯s face. ¡°Didn¡¯t you study history, lad?¡± the priest replied, wafting away the smoke with his hand ¡°The goblins were repelled by Domfloor¡¯s armies¡­but not without cost. Then afterwards, the goblins left ruin in their wake¡ªtowns razed, thousands dead. King Sloane, who ruled then, borrowed gold heavily from foreign kings to rebuild. A noble intent but poorly executed.¡± ¡°I thought Lord Mudrak ruled Domfloor,¡± Anthrak said. ¡°Schools teaches you boys nothing, eh?¡± the priest said. ¡°This was before Mudrak¡¯s time! Sloane was king when I lived there, struggling to mend a broken land.¡± ¡°So what went wrong?¡± Harrold asked. ¡°The debts mounted beyond repayment. Sloane¡¯s advisors were fools, and the kingdom slid into decay, and then¡­economic collapse followed.¡± ¡°How¡¯d Mudrak take over, then?¡± Harrold asked, tapping ash from his pipe onto the floor. ¡°What happened to Sloane?¡± ¡°Mudrak¡ªKristian, as he was known then¡ªwas a royal knight, one of Sloane¡¯s finest. A brave and brilliant knight, held in highest esteem. A true soldier. Then¡­Kristian led a rebellion against Sloane.¡± ¡°Why rebel?¡± Anthrak asked. ¡°If he was such a good knight?¡± ¡°He blamed Sloane for the countries ruin¡ªborrowing gold the kingdom couldn¡¯t repay. Kristian rallied the army around him, claiming they¡¯d restore order and make the kingdom rich again. And he had plenty of support. Half the army stood with him. The king and his loyalists fought back and they met at the Battle of Boddington Field. And there¡­Kristian¡¯s forces triumphed. He even killed King Sloane himself. Even plucked the crown from the mud and placed it upon his own head.¡± ¡°And then?¡± Harrold prompted. ¡°That¡¯s how Kristian became Lord Mudrak. He took the throne and promised renewal, and the people loved him for it¡ªhope after despair.¡± ¡°Was he a good ruler?¡± Anthrak said. ¡°For a time, yes¡ªvery good. Things prospered¡­ until they didn¡¯t.¡± The priest sighed deeply. ¡°Power warped him, as it does all men. Good intentions faded, madness crept in, and the kingdom declined again. Now, he¡¯s allied with Thrakka¡¯s goblins¡ªeven the bracken tribes, they say.¡± ¡°Thrakka goblins hit Tandor last night,¡± Harrold said, his tone darkening. ¡°Burnt it to fucking cinders.¡± The priest fell silent, staring into his tea. ¡°A terrible sight,¡± Anthrak murmured. ¡°Bastard Mudrak,¡± Harrold growled. ¡°He¡¯s why I¡¯ve got to cut my holiday short and haul arse back home.¡± ¡°Are his armies really at the border?¡± Anthrak pressed. ¡°Will they invade?¡± The priest met his gaze, his eyes heavy and bloodshot. ¡°I fear so, lad. They¡¯ll swallow us whole.¡± ¡°We¡¯ll drive them back,¡± Harrold said confidently. ¡°Send the scum scurrying back to their wretched holes.¡± ¡°I hope so,¡± the priest replied softly. ¡°I truly do.¡± They sat quietly for a time, the fire¡¯s glow casting long shadows across the stone floor. Harrold broke the stillness. ¡°A girl knocked earlier, looking for you.¡± ¡°A girl? What did she look like?¡± ¡°No clue,¡± Harrold said. ¡°Anthrak?¡± ¡°Long red hair, blue eyes,¡± Anthrak said. ¡°Very pretty. I liked her.¡± ¡°That¡¯s Jenny,¡± the priest said with a faint smile. ¡°She¡¯s the local shepherd girl¡ªhelps me out now and then. Checks in on me.¡± ¡°Maybe I¡¯ll pay her a visit,¡± Harrold mused, winking at Anthrak. ¡°Just a quick one.¡± ¡°She¡¯d love that,¡± Anthrak said dryly. ¡°Might fall head over heels.¡± ¡°Is that sarcasm?¡± ¡°Sarcasm? Me?¡± Anthrak turned to the priest. ¡°So, why have raiders been hitting the village? ¡°Don¡¯t fret over it, lad,¡± the priest said, a touch too quickly. ¡°It¡¯s a small matter.¡± ¡°Why shouldn¡¯t we fret?¡± Harrold said. ¡°What are you hiding?¡± ¡°I¡¯m no strategist,¡± the priest said, ¡°but I believe it¡¯s tied to Mudrak¡¯s plans¡ªsowing chaos before his armies march. Weakening us.¡± ¡°Smart bastard,¡± Harrold said, puffing smoke. ¡°Wear us down first.¡± ¡°Listen, lads,¡± the priest said, rising, ¡°I¡¯ve no more tales to tell. If you¡¯re still hungry, take more rolls.¡± ¡°Anywhere to sleep around here?¡± Harrold asked. ¡°The inn¡¯s just across the road. Beds there if you fancy staying. Leave when you¡¯re ready,¡± the priest headed for the door. ¡°Your horse¡ªBrutus, was it?¡ªis stabled next door.¡± ¡°Not ¡®Brutus,¡¯¡± Harrold corrected. ¡°Basileus.¡± ¡°Beg you pardon. I¡¯m truly terrible with names.¡± He stepped out, the door thudding shut behind him. Harrold and Anthrak sat in silence for a moment. ¡°That¡¯s fucking strange, you know,¡± Harrold said finally. ¡°Him just leaving us here.¡± Anthrax sipped his tea. ¡°I don¡¯t think it¡¯s strange.¡± ¡°It¡¯s bloody strange. He clammed up when you mentioned raiders and wolves. And when I brought up Tandor, he barely flinched. Something¡¯s fishy.¡± ¡°Yes, very fishy indeed,¡± Anthrak said, a hint of mockery in his tone. ¡°Exactly. That priest¡¯s hiding something¡ªI can feel it.¡± ¡°Shall we head to the inn?¡± ¡°Yeah, let¡¯s go. Grab the rest of those rolls.¡± They left the church, stepping into a biting wind that swept across the road. The cold gnawed at their bones as they approached the inn, a squatted timber building with a sagging thatched roof and a creaking sign. A cold rain started to pour. They walked up the stone steps and Harrold pounded the door with a clenched fist. The door creaked open, revealing a large burly man with a brown bushy beard. ¡°Are you the innkeeper?¡± Harrold asked. ¡°Who wants to know?¡± the man grunted, stroking his beard. ¡°We do,¡± Harrold said, shoving past him into the warmth.