Morten stergaard

Welcome
to Helam
Fight for Myristead!

Table of Contents
Chapter 1................................................................................................... 2
Chapter 2................................................................................................... 9

Chapter 1
The walls lay silent and grey within Karrindas City, the people within going about
their usual everyday lives, oblivious to the events having just passed not long ago.
Their peaceful lives behind the walls of their proud city were but an illusion to
themselves. It didnt matter what happened beyond the grey, dull walls, because
they would indeed keep the townspeople safe.
Open the gates! Bring the Captain to the courtyard!
The message was passed on as the vast wooden gate keeping the civilian
population safe and sound despite the recent attack not far from the safety. The
gate quickly cleared itself from being an obstacle for whoever was outside the
gates. The Captain had in the meantime made his way to the courtyard and waited
with a group of soldiers at his sides, his bearded face letting everyone know just
how serious he was.
Halt! In the name of the Widow-Queen, I demand an explanation of your presence
here!
His voice echoed in front of him, and, sure as he had ordered the visitors to, they
stopped right in their tracks. The Slarren woman looked anything but pleased at
the demand, shooting him a simple glare as she stood still, the air rustling in her
silvery hair upon her slender face.
I need not explain myself to such untold rudeness! Silvonah, at my side, if you
please.
A smaller Slarren woman almost jumped in surprise of her name being mentioned,
quivering slightly to herself before running over to the leaders side. Her elegant
dress of black, red and white colors draped across the almost figureless body.
Silvonah was a head smaller than her counterpart, although both of them were
almost as pale as snow.

The Widow-Queens request of our presence, Silvonah exclaimed in a voice as

tender and shy as her personality, reaching to her side to unstrap a piece of
parchment rolled together. The parchment was unrolled and held in front of the
small Slarre, the text pointing straight at the Captain. She was rewarded with a
warm smile from the leader of the small group, who bowed her head graciously at
her companion. As if on cue, Silvonah rolled the parchment once more before
stepping back once again.
Velnath and Farnoth LeRaius send their regards, however I was all they could
spare for this lengthy trip. Mostly cause we were in the vicinity, but no matter.
Azaieh LeNorthe, at the Widow-Queens request of the Slarren presence, the
Slarre finally voiced, and for a few moments she stared bluntly at the Captain, who
was growing more and more nervous by the minute. Eventually he stepped aside,
his stature continuously stiff like a metal rod.
Right this way, the Captain said briefly and started walking, pacing through the
streets of Karrindas City with their visitors following closely behind. The guards
formerly on the Captains sides were encasing in a stretched circle around the
Slarre, as if they were protecting them. Escorting them. Were they prisoners? It
could easily look like so for the civilian population within the city as they strode
past. Azaieh seemed less and less comfortable with the formation of these
Humans around her kin, but showed not a single trace of wanting to comment on
it. She had not the right to do so in a Human city.
The mixed group of Humans and Slarre quickly came to a stop right outside
Karrindas Keep, the guardsmen exchanging a few words to which the Azaieh
seemed to show no care in the world for. Why were they going through all this
trouble of keeping the city safe from a small group of Slarre on no more than 5
members? If it came to it, they would stand no chance against the Humans within
their own capital. Not that theyd stoop to the level of criminals.
It took too long for either of the Slarre to get through, each of them being searched
for any armaments upon them. It was probably a protocol to follow for safety
reasons for the Humans, but the Slarre would see nothing of it, the leader of the
party hissing as she was approached with the intent of stripping her of her
weapons. An agreement was found quite some time later; that they were allowed

their traditional blades to stay with them. Stripping a Slarre of these blades would
be a proposition of war.
And so the 5 Slarre walked through the halls, oddly enough without an escort at
all. They were just given direction as to where the diplomacy hall was; nothing
further. Azaieh was almost startled by the sudden sense of freedom inside the
Keep; did the Widow-Queen respect her visitors that much? Shaking her head, the
woman groaned to herself and gazed upon the big, wooden doors in front of her.
Azaieh gazed over her left shoulder at two Slarren men, each of them raising an
eyebrow in response to her eyes upon them. She then looked over her right
shoulder, peering at the two Slarren women. Silvonah looked trouble, almost
nervous, as the smaller woman gazed back at Azaieh, to which she gave a
reassuring smile. Silvonah wouldnt be doing any talking.
Azaieh was to do all of the talking on the Slarres behalf.
With that taken care of, she faced the door once again, taking a deep breath
before pacing forward, stepping inside the hall by pushing the heavy doors aside
enough for her and her companions to walk inside. She raised her eyebrow upon
seeing more than just the Widow-Queen inside, her eyes travelling over the many
people within, GorTann and Choobai alike. One of the men behind her closed the
doors as they strode over to join the empty place near the GorTann, the Thromm
standing on their right side, whilst the GorTann were at their left.
I shouldve expected more than just the Slarre to have an invitation from the
Widow-Queen, shouldnt I have?
The only Gor'Tann seated nodded slowly with a grunt as he eyed the Slarre party.
The elderly warrior was not wearing his normal armor, but wearing his tribal
clothing made of fur, skin and cloth with his family insignia on, a dark paw. He
mumbled something to a Gor'Tann next to him, whom almost looked exactly like
the elder, except he was much younger, he then turned to the Slarre.
"You have any idea of why we have been summoned?"

Azaieh gazed at the Gor'Tann, who raised his voice once again to speak with her,
through the corner of her eye. Shrugging only faintly she turns her whole head
instead, mainly because she recognized the Gor'Tann now, but also to show him at
least some of the respect he deserved.
"While I don't know myself, I can assume it's something vital to Myristead... or
simply the humans once again acting for their own good, however making sure
we're on their side before going to battle with the unknown... Again."
The Gor'Tann chuckled softly and frowned slightly as he scratched a large scar
that was on his left cheek. He then looked to the party once more and frowned
slightly as he returned his gaze to the leading Slarre as he said: "The unknown is
the only thing worth fighting. Tell me, Ranger, how come it is not your Regent-Lord
or his son here today? Not to be rude or so, but you are not... A political character,
per say."
"You aren't rude at all, in fact, it's a good question. The Regent-Lord, nor RegentCommander, had the time or resources to accompany either of you within this
case; however we cannot just give up because they cannot come in person. That's
at least my idea behind it. That and we were the party closest to Karrindas City,
whom could make it within a reasonable amount of time. I can agree that I'm not a
political character, but I am a servant of peace."
Azaieh had in the meantime gazed back forward, as if she was thinking the
explanation up at the spot. It was all true however; she was known to be honest all
across Myristead at the very least.
"As for the unknown being the only thing worth fighting... You Gor'Tann have
always had an... intriguing sense of worth and pride. Don't get me wrong, I respect
you and your people's ways."
The elderly warrior waved the remark away with one hand and gave Azaieh a short
smile that made him look almost like a grandfather, if not for the great axe that was

at the side of his seat. Some of the other Gor'Tann behind the chair snarled slightly
at the remark though.
"No worry about it, we are indeed strange in some way. We are not learned
people. It is only Tizalir and Gortik whom even care about learning from the past.
Well, I pride myself in learning from mistakes, but not to study. You Slarre dont
have that worry, since many of you remember it all, is that not so? How old are
you, Ranger?"
The ranger grinned a bit to herself; it was amusing to see this Gor'Tann taking a
light offense like that as if it was nothing. That may've been one of the reasons she
endured letting her tongue slip every once in a while.
"Most of us remember many-a year without war and battle, even less of conflict.
What little conflict we knew from back then was... Your 'rituals', or what you'd call
the feuds. I do not keep a count on my age however, the further it heightens, the
more... depressing it becomes. I stopped beyond 700, if you wish something to
follow as example. Fairly 'young' still, but still a standing point."
The elder warrior was about to say something when a squire came in to the middle
of the room and asked for everyone to sit still and be quiet, the elder smiled politely
to the Slarre officer before turning a very politic expression to the Widow-Queen,
whom slowly arose from her chair, yes a chair. It surprised many when the WidowQueen changed the throne out in the diplomacy room for chairs. Her idea with it
was for all men to be equal in the room. The Widow-Queen looked over everyone,
and showed authority and calm, though her eyes hid a worry that could be seen as
a mothers care.
"Welcome and thank you for coming to this meeting. You are all chosen by your
leaders, because they respect you, and think you will make the right choice, not
only for you and your military, but for your people. Many of you took up arms when
the strange ship came out of the sky, and many of you want to know who or what
that was."

She held a brake and looked over the people in the room, a small frown showed
on her otherwise clean face as she spoke her next words: "They were humans."
Azaieh had barely received the notification of them being human as well, before
she almost fumed in anger; however she calmed herself as she leaned forward in
the chair, tapping her finger upon the wooden table in front of them, even
narrowing her eyes.
"So, you're saying humans are attacking humans? That they came all the way
here, just to make sure they had you eradicated? Do explain this... stupendous
situation, if at all possible."
The mere tone in the Slarre's voice clearly shone through as very critical and
urgent. Had the humans brought war upon Myristead again? It was almost
preposterous to deal with these martyrs of power. The Widow-Queen let out a sigh
and nodded slowly.
"You have every right to be angry, all of you. Long ago, when the meteor struck,
we came. What you do not realize is that the meteor was a ship, just like the one
that attacked us. See, us humans of Myristead are all refugees from a broken and
lost world, where other humans, corrupted and greedy for power, attacked the
other human countries. These beasts are nothing like us, but appearance. We
have waged war on your people before, for that I have apologized several times. I
know I cannot make up for it, but I ask of your aid... All of your aid."
The Slarre spokeswoman opened her eyes once again, the narrow slits escaping
from her face entirely as she once more leant back to relax within the chair, a sigh
of her own being let out.
"We already have our hands full with the Silitharians... You're proposing something
foolhardy."
She gazed around the room briefly, at each of the selected diplomatic leaders of
either race or faction, before once more laying her eye upon Silvonah and her own

kinsmen. Turning back to the table, she let out another weary sigh.
"Are you all willing to join a cause against the unknown for someone we were once
attacked and mercilessly conquered, partly, by?"
The voice of spokesman Lomn, who was known by the Thromm to be the fastest
and slickest of them, rumbled through the room. The giant and massive humanoid
looked more like a mountain than a human, but his eyes sparked with intellect as
he spoke.
"We have been waiting, arguing, conquering and destroying. Every one of us has.
Slarre took over the Shadowrealm first, by death. Human took Thromm land,
through death. Gor'Tann attacked each other. We could point fingers all day, but
these... Other humans... Are a threat. Thromm worked hard to fight Silitharians.
Where Slarre are away with arrows, spears and magic, Thromm go close with fists.
Why waste time arguing, when we could use all our gathered strength at one
enemy now?"
Kearrosh burst into laughter at the sudden speech by the Thromm representative.
The Choobai's jaws were at their chests and the Widow-Queen looked confused.
The Thromm were normally giant and silent, only nodding or shaking their heads
when spoken to.
Azaieh was left muffled by the sudden Thromm-outburst, blinking a few times at
the display. That was the first time in a long time, if at all, that she had seen a
Thromm talk with words instead of gestures. With a gentle sigh and a brief smile,
she once more looked to the Widow-Queen; the Thromm was right, but she had
but a few last questions.
"Why should we aid you at waging war upon something you brought upon
yourselves once more?"
"I cannot make up for the mistakes of my ancestors. What I do know though, is that
my ancestors escaped fighting for righteousness, for good and for innocent
people. We were corrupted in our ways, but we fought like you fought against my

father. I cannot make up for more than I have, but if we do win over the Helamites,
it will be one less threat, we will have more aid to fight the Silitharians and then we
will finally leave your world alone."
Azaieh Le'Northe gazed at the Widow-Queen's stiff, serious face for quite some
time, the tension clearly growing within herself before she let out a defeated sigh at
last: "If its but one step closer to your kind leaving Myristead to its own peace... I
guess we have no choice. You made your case clear... -However-! Who do you
propose is in charge of this outlandish proposal to Myristead's people?"
The Widow-Queen's firm gaze goes over her representatives. Many good and wise
people were amongst them, many whom had served her and her lineage for longer
than she had lived. She knew it would be a dangerous task, and one many would
not survive going on. She could not live with herself if she lost one whom would be
missed by ones family. She frowned slightly before letting out a long drawn sigh,
turning to Advisor Tullen.
"Send word to Fort Windhorn. Silverblade is needed at the Capital."
Azaieh stumbles briefly over the name mentioned, she'd heard and dealt with this
Silverblade before... but oh had it been a long while ago. What was he a
Lieutenant? She'd have to get that clarified with him at some point; it would only be
a shame if she didn't. Bowing her head slightly in respect of the Widow-Queen, the
Slarren woman raised a hand to her chest, grasping at her own attire as if taking a
hold of her own heart deep within.
"If the rumors and stories are true of this Silverblade... You have what little of the
Slarre we can spare for your mission. It would be an honor to be at your side once
more as allies."
She did nothing to stop herself from staying within her utmost respectful stance,
the Widow-Queen being one of few outside her own race to be appointed with
such a gesture. A deep grumble came from the side of the Slarre not long after.
Surrounded by leather-wearing brutes, the elderly Gor'Tann with his long gray
beard and scars running down every inch of his body arose from his seat. His eyes
were narrow, and, as he spoke, his voice spoke with only the purest of authority.

"The Slarre and Humans have earned the respect of many of my kin. I will speak
with the tribal council of the families, but at least the Helvgarr Clan is ready to lend
their arms. Especially if it is the one called Silverblade leading this... Onslaught."
The Widow-Queen nodded slowly and smiled at the gathering of races.
"If there is no further matter to bring up, I call this meeting adjourned. If any other
wishes to lend strength, please do so. Thank you to those whom already have. I
hope you all understand that, as a leader, I am burdened with much more than the
attack of those other humans, so for now I must see to other business. You are
most welcome to mingle as you wish within my keep."

Chapter 2
The wind whistled gently over the plains, the cold following not long behind the
breeze. It was a good day, albeit a bit dull. The proud walls of Fort Windhorn stood
tall and stalwart on the grassy fields, the people within busy with all kinds of
different things, be it maintenance of the wall or something as simple as training on
the dummies. Who knew when theyd attract a hostile attention once again? It was
always a possibility, considering they were a distant outpost.
The General of this establishment was standing just as proud as the walls, which
had in endured many battles in long periods of time. It made the elderly man grin
to himself as he stared into the sky. It was mostly cloudy, but he still felt the sun
caressing his aging face. The sounds around him soothed him too. For decades
hed been the backbone of this fort, and it felt like hed been a part of war and
battle for as long as hed lived, which clearly showed on his many scars from
whenever he had been hit. He wasnt just the general hanging back and spouting
orders. No, he was the leader, leading his troops into battle by being on the
frontlines himself; he needed to feel like he wasnt just a bystander. He was a part
of every battle, and it clearly showed.
He always found it relaxing every time he gazed into the sky, he didnt know why,
but it just felt right for him. There wasnt anything left of his family, they all perished
to war in one way or the other. He was still smiling on their behalf, he wanted the
legacy of the Silverblade name to fall into history, since that would be the last thing
any Silverblade would be able to do. There wasnt even a half-brother or nephew
left of him, his bloodline eradicated. He was the last survivor of a hesitant, endless
battle with himself. It wouldnt seem like he carried the weight of his name upon his
own shoulders; alone with no one else to take a part of the burden.
Sir, a message from Karrindas Keep, its urgent.

He peered down from the cloudy skies to search the man in front of him. It was
one of the few Orb-Magi he kept around the fort, in case something should
happen. Grunting in an affirmative manner, he started walking towards a more
secluded place, waving the Magus along with him.
Make a connection then, Josef, if its as urgent as you mention it to be.
The Magus bowed his head briefly in respect at the old veteran, before bringing
out his orb, holding it in front of himself as he started chanting lightly to himself. It
was still an odd act for the aged warrior, these chants and magic-tricks always
impressed him, but it was so very foreign to him.