I trudged through the diminishing snow. Tufts of grass could already be visible and with the fog cleared the sun’s warm rays could finally make contact with the ground. I was nearing my destination. Leoplorians always lived in the hot grasslands. We always thought of them as primitive barbarians but they were hardly ever thought of, considering they inhabited the farthest lands from Selpia. I tied my coat around my neck. The giant assortment of hare skins were drowning me in sweat. Ice on my boots melted as I walked into pools of water. The grasses and trees grew taller and pools of ice water evaporated the farther I went until ultimately I was the only sign there was ever a cold to be warmed against.

Sundown approached as the sun hid behind a random assortment tall trees. I searched the grassland for a sign of life. No birds flew from the trees, no animals scurried through the grasses. I only managed to collect a handful of insects, mostly common beetles, for dinner. I never liked insects much and they tasted far worse uncooked. But I managed, besides I didn’t want to risk being caught in a rushing grassland inferno. The silence in the grasses was both relaxing and frightening. As the sun fell behind the horizon the air grew cold. It was almost like walking back into Selpia. Dew drops covered the tall grasses. I collapsed against a tree with its branches low and spread out. With my hare-skin pouch as a pillow and my coat as a blanket I slept nestled between the roots of the tree. Even with the tall grasses hiding me, I had the uneasy feeling that there was something watching me. The most perturbing part was that there was a high probability this was true. The Leoplorians hunted for their sacrifice at night. Let mercy come to the Reaper of the night, for the poor creature that falls prey to the grotesque beast-God they serve. Sleep came slowly and spastic movements woke me at random in the dark.

When the dark sky was finally tinted by the bright yellow of the sun, my eyelids felt heavy from a sleepless night and my body hesitated with the thought of movement. I stood and hugged my coat, the air had not yet warmed. Although no birds sang and not a leaf rustled the ambiance felt a little less hostile. I listened closely wanting to hear something other than my breathing.

Did my ears deceive me? I heard a distant sound that was something in between a snort and a laugh. The worst came to mind. They were Leoplorians. Upon instinct I hid behind the tree I slept beneath but panic struck me as I heard heavy footsteps running towards me. I sank lower into the field of yellow grass. The footsteps became closer and hit the ground even harder and even faster. My heart pumped hard and my body shivered. They had seen me, I was sure of it. My hand was already on my sword. Air rushed past me as they ran. The two of them were apparently running in the same direction. Each ran past me on either side of my sanctuary tree. It was morning so I guessed they weren’t too interested in hunting. I peered out of the tall grasses and it was obvious they had not seen me. Their gait was like that of madmen; clumsy and seemingly purposeless. They yelled, hooted and waved their spears up in the air. Black and red paint was smeared all over their naked bodies, save a small area that was covered with a loincloth. Thank the chief that clothed them, let it be said that the bare minimum was enough to save my eyes from a more grotesque sight than their faces.

The Leoplorians were the most ugliest creatures you could ever see. Their misshapen faces would be enough to scare any creature. They had teeth that were randomly placed in their mouths and were of completely different sizes and shapes. Their eyes were wild and stuck out of giant tumors from their massive heads. Tufts of hair grew on only a few areas of their heads. Two v-shaped slits were cut in the middle of their heads. The only “normal” thing about Leoplorians that categorized them as humanoid was their muscular bodies that had no apparent scarring or mutations.

I stalked the quick bastards, hiding behind trees as I went. After only a few minutes I realized they were heading towards a forested area in the grassland. A trail of smoke left the forested area. Fire? Then it hit me where they were headed to. I kept on trailing them until I arrived at the Leoplorians’ camp. The Leoplorians were all crowded around a cave wildly cheering. Then I saw proof that the myths told back in Selpia were true. Four Leoplorians came through the brush and carried a stick. On the stick was a Selpian peasant. I cold tell from the warm clothing. A long, black braid hung from her bleeding head. The stick stuck out from her head and stomach, her hands and legs hung limply by her side. Her eyes were wide open with terror, unlike all of the corpses that I had seen.

Until now, I hadn’t noticed that the smoke was not coming from a fire, but from the cave. The second the four Leoplorians lay the Selpian corpse on the forage-covered forest ground, they ran fearfully out of the open path and into the crowd. One of them tripped, but instead of picking himself up he clawed through the soil towards the crowd. What most caught my eye was the fact that his glance did not stray from the mouth of the cave. In fact, they all seemed frightened by the darkness that lay beyond the rock layer. I by now realized the beast these savages served was hidden somewhere in this abyss. But when I saw the disorientation in the wild eyes of the Leoplorians, I couldn’t imagine their reaction in the actual presence of the monster.

From the depth of the massive cave, came a rumbling growl. The ground shook, leaves tumbled from the surrounding trees and the Leoplorian clan backed up. Dragons were nothing new to me, so I instantly recognized the powerful footfalls of the giant. At first I could only make out two giant claws and a blunt nose in the dark but when the sun’s rays hit the polished teal scales of the creature that thundered out, I was in hypnotized by its beauty and magnificence. Fangs protruded from the mouth of the dragon, as it opened up. As its head tilted, flames shot out and scorched the treetops. Leoplorians shrieked as burnt twigs littered the ground. The dragon grunted and expelled a plume of thick smoke. Its luminescent eyes scanned the ground. The eyes stopped on the corpse and the dragon’s head lowered to ground-level. An awkward silence hung in the tense air as the dragon sniffed and examined the dead peasant. His nostrils widened and with obvious dissatisfaction he roared so his terrifyingly loud voice reverberated throughout the length of the woods.





EXCERPT!

The cold wind numbed my face and sucked puffs of warmth from the seams of my furs like a vampiric ectotherm. I gasped intakes of air that scarred my throat and lungs and wheezed it out like poison gas. My icy feet seemed incapable of withstanding my body weight, still I stumbled on all the same with my clumsy gait. Like some maniacal serpent the wind butted against my body and I had but the remains of a once lively willpower to battle it in return. In this barren land of ice my eyes were useless thus the abandonment of my futile search for refuge. Drained of energy, I succumbed to the elemental beast and fell headfirst into the crunching snow. A thousand needles stabbed my feet and hands as the numbness grew more prominent. The wind whistled triumphantly into my ears and faded.

“What of the guards we sent with her?”
“Th-They weren’t with ‘er Majesty either, ma Lord”

I heard them before I saw them, but either way I knew exactly who they were. Fafnir is my servant. He has, I must admit, never failed me (technically) but, he’s not exactly the most loyal servant. He’s a nasty daemon-goblin hybrid. Bare peeling, brown skin covers his frail skeletal frame and giant eyeballs pop out of his abnormally large misshapen head. Some claim he was once part of the Leoplorian gang but I don’t listen to such myths. The 3-foot coward is harmless but he seems to have a talent (or hobby) for deviating insults. The little spy frolics in gossip and rumors but tries to hide himself in my presence. It’s a pity he doesn’t have much of a choice since he’s my eternal prisoner.

Pyrus is the friendly brute I call my half-brother. His dark skin, eyes and hair made him the complete opposite of my countenance. He was my body-guard, advisor but above all friend. He always wore a cape made of a brown fur from a mystery monster he proudly slaughtered. Friendly as he may have been to me, he was none the less a brute. If provoked he could add your scalp to his belt…



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