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Hello everyone, this is Asclepius, with another wonderful story from Themo Lock. This story follows on from the tale of Exodus, and is entitled
Occupation

Background music “Fossil Evidence”, by Smartsound

The skeleton flailed its fleshless arms in what could easily be mistaken for frustration, bony feet clasped firmly by the tangle vines that tightened with every jerky movement. High above in the treetops a scout watched on in silent amusement as she packed a pipe from a pouch of mixed herbs. The tangle vines grew thick and fast in Lockbrier forest, nourished by the seemingly endless waves of undead that wandered from the ruins of Paxlair. It was these vines and the wiry brambles that shielded the town of Lockbrier from the madness and dangers of the outside world. Paxlair itself crawled with undead, a blanket of flies and rotting flesh that sleeplessly wandered through the rubble and ruins in an endless circular patrol. Nobody knew where they came from, they had just risen from the scorched earth shortly after the exodus of Paxlair two generations past, preventing reconstruction and driving the survivors to take refuge in the forest. Clearing the undead scourge had proven impossible, no matter how many were slain they would simply rise and take up arms again the following day. The elders theorised that some dark power had embedded itself like a tick into the heart of Paxlair, calling forth and lending power to the undead hoard, though what that power actually was remained unknown. It was the scouts job to wait and watch, looking for any unusual activity or clues that may aid in deciphering this century old mystery.

Bored with the spectacle below, the scout drew a dagger and carved her name into the sturdy branch that supported her weight, lit pipe between her teeth. “Ghella” a name she had inherited from her foster mother whom she now remembered fondly as she ran her fingertips over the carved letters. Her attention was caught by a glimmer in the distance as the midday sun reflected off metal, off to the west something was moving along the edge of the tree-line. The scout capped her pipe and raised a spyglass to her eye, scanning the distant tree-line with peaked interest. Crouched in the under brush, she counted a party of eight men, seven clad in heavy armour and the eighth draped in the robes of a mage. Ghella did not recognise them as locals and wondered at their intentions, the perils of Paxlair was clear to see in the light of day. The scout’s grip on her perch tightened as the mage raised his arms and glowed with arcane energy, the nearby undead noticed immediately and lumbered towards the party like a rotting tidal wave. A thunderclap split the air as lightning forked out from the mage’s outstretched hands, dropping a dozen or more of the lead skeletons as the ironclad warriors locked shields and braced for impact. Explosions tore through the ranks of the undead as the fallen skeletons detonated like powder kegs, the party slowly advanced under cover of the mage, expertly dropping foe after foe. Ghella almost cried out in amazement as the very ground surrounding the party rumbled and violently shook, obliterating countless undead where they stood like so many twigs. The men were gaining ground, Ghella could not believe what she was seeing, eight men were slaying what had to be hundreds of living dead and pushing slowly but surely towards the city centre. A fire elemental now floated alongside the men, lighting up the ground behind them with rising flames as they advanced. Could it be that this party would accomplish what the Lockbrier militia had failed to do so many times? Could these men be the saviours of Paxlair?

An unearthly scream rang out from somewhere within the city and the warriors halted and looked back at the mage. Rays of dark energy leaped from the ruins of the fallen city and enveloped the party of adventurers, dropping them to their knees. Ghosts, dozens of them fed at range from the shadowy ruins of the city and the panicked mage now went on the defensive as he struggled to revitalise the fading health of his men. Something else emerged from the ruins, a huge lich the likes of which Ghella had never seen glided forward, flanked by two of its kind. The creature pointed at the prone warriors and cackled as once more, the undead masses surged forward. There was no stopping them this time and Ghella looked away as the party was overrun. Below her the skeleton had become aware of her presence and now screeched and clawed at the air in a frenzy, still firmly rooted in place. Ghella’s heart skipped a beat as in the distance, the undead army turned and stared directly at her position. The scout dropped her spyglass in a panic and rose to her feet, it was time to leave. Nimbly jumping from branch to branch, she made her way back into the safety of the deep forest towards the town of Lockbrier. For the first time in years she had something to report.

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Hello everyone, this is Asclepius, with the final chapter in a wonderful story by enderandrew. It is entitled

The Green Rogue Volume V
Told by Joorus the Scribe

Background music “Reunion”, by Smartsound

Sir Greggor did not move quite as fast as he did in his youth. The various wounds from countless battles took their toll on him to the point where he wasn’t sure if he could keep riding on top of horseback another year. If he did not take Lord Zolaas’ offered promotion, he might be forced to retire early. The thought of that was just slightly more unbearable than the pain of spending hour after hour in a saddle. But age did have its benefits.

Years of falconry had made him a better hunter, even if he moved slower. Tonight it paid off. His men blanketed much of the woods near trade roads and his falcon flew high enough to see the bandits hiding in trees. His falcon directed him and soon enough he stood at the base of a tree where he could make out a masked bandit hiding.

He lit a torch and approached the tree. “Come down peacefully and you may yet live. I have not killed a man, and I would prefer not to. But we will not have our lands divided by brigands who hide in trees. I will burn the trees with you among them if I have to. Do not test my will.”

One bandit anxiously screamed in response “to arms” before the Green Rogue countered in command “no, wait! I surrender, but let these men live.” He dropped down to the ground at Sir Greggor’s feet. He dropped again to his knees, and then pulled down his mask. “I thought you died because of me and it has haunted me for years. I can’t fight you now. But leave these men. They followed me and fought in my name. The Green Rogue is the face of rebellion in these lands. Let them retire quietly in the night to their homes and families and no one will be the wiser. Claim me as your prize.”

This time it was Sir Greggor who dropped his blade. He looked upon Alex’s face. Though there were burns from the fireball years ago, he recognized it immediately. “I thought you were dead as well because of me. How is it that you’re alive?”

Alex stumbled on his words, his shame of prior cowardice burning at him now. “I ran when I should have fought alongside you. I left you to die and I ran. When they saw me run, they did not give chase. How did you live? You were overrun by Kobolds!”

Sir Greggor recalled his prior torment but wept in tears of joy. “They wounded me gravely, but then left. They told me they wanted me to serve as a warning. They wanted me to crawl back home, half dead to scare off others from venturing into what they considered their lands. But why not return home? Why are you doing this, robbing innocent people?”

Alex looked up defiantly. He was no longer a frightened boy. “I liberate more than coin. I liberate these people who are tired of living every day in fear of constant war. We do not wish to see more and more loved ones die in a battle we do not understand. Every one of my men and women in the trees have lost someone, and they would rob a thousand merchants if it saved lives.”

Sir Greggor looked to the trees and saw others. “No, as commander of this expedition, I see only one bandit. I’m ordering my men to leave. And while I thank the stars you are alive, it is time to bring you home to your father, as I promised I would years ago.” He places shackles on Alex’s wrists and then placed him on his horse. He would walk behind them on the long journey home.

Between two brave men, many tears were shed that night before returning to Lord Zolaas. Upon seeing his son, he wept as well. They caught up on lost years. Lord Zolaas revealed the challenge from Lady Vash that prompted everything, and how their family has now permanently lost those hunting grounds because Alex was branded a coward.

“But I would give up all my lands and more, I am so grateful that you are alive,” Lord Zolaas declared.

“Fear not,” Alex declared. He reached down into his boot, pulled out a hidden dagger and fell on it. “I am a coward no longer.”

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Hello everyone, this is Asclepius, with the next instalment in a wonderful story by enderandrew. It is entitled
The Green Rogue Volume IV
Told by Joorus the Scribe
I am also delighted to welcome Sophi to the narrative team.
Background music “No More Regrets”, by Smartsound

Lady Vash put down her napkin, though she was still chewing and savoring the last bite of pork roast as long as she could. “Let me say again that I am truly sorry I never visited before your wife passed. I hear she loved to cook. But the cook you’ve hired is most excellent as well. That was a wonderful meal!”
Lord Zolaas set down his chalice with a grin. “I do not wish to be rude, but now that our meal is concluded, I hoped we could get down to business. I’m not a big fan of decorum when something is left unresolved.”

Lady Vash took a sip of her wine before responding. “You’ve gone to great lengths though, and I do wish to express my gratitude. How did you know I loved Midmaer wine so much? You rarely go to court in Valhold other than to dispute these lands, and you’re not one to pay gossips or spies.”

Lord Zolaas changed demeanor. The affable host in him was disappearing quickly. “There is no dispute other than what you make. You wish to steal my lands and I am supposed to just hand them to you with a smile?”

“Please, steal is such a harsh word and I do not wish to fight. We both serve King Granus faithfully and we both want what is best for our vassals. Through the years, both of our families have laid claim to those lands. They have gone back and forth. If we wish our subjects to believe we can bring this war to an end, we must first demonstrate we can put an end to small internal feuds as well. That is why I proposed a final accord that we both agree will settle this for all time.”

“Why would I risk that which I already own and give you a chance to take it from me for all time? Do you think I’m a fool?” Lord Zolaas did not look pleased.

“No, I see a loving father and a grieving husband. There are those who question you in court, and your ability to lead men to victory when your heart is burdened with loss.”

“I’d cuff every one of them, smacking some sense into them! How dare they question my conviction after everything I’ve lost?”

Lady Vash very carefully set her drink down. “Please, calm yourself. I am not one of them. I am a friend, and your guest. I am here to support you and offer you an opportunity to prove yourself. This is a question of our families as much as ourselves. We need to prove for all time which family is best suited to rule and thusly claim those lands and leave no doubt. You can silence all your critics and secure your son’s future. Imagine if he never had to worry about land disputes and could focus solely on the war efforts?”

The thought of Alex seeped in. Lord Zolaas would do anything for him. “What would you have me do to prove our family worth? Whatever it is, I am up to the task. I do not fear failure.”

“I would never suggest as such, but it isn’t you. After all, we’re talking about our descendants for all time. My son has become something of a master archer, and I think those hunting grounds are well suited to my family. Some have said your son is burdened by loss and lacks the appetite for hunting. If so, then maybe this land would go to waste with your family.”

“I haven’t taken my son hunting yet. He is 14, and our tradition is to do our first hunt at 15. It is when we first celebrate a boy becoming a man. Do you wish him to hunt a bear to silence those who would call him a coward?”

“My political adviser urged against that. If I invited your son to hunt in these lands to prove his worth, I’m symbolically conceding the land to you by default. A Kobold however-”

“Are you mad, sending my son into combat at 14?”

“Is that not always the concern, that we might all face a Kobold at any time in this kingdom? What parent hasn’t prepared their child for that moment, just in case? Men need to follow him, not just because he can claim a pelt from some animal, but because they believe he can defeat the Kobolds in war. If you don’t trust in your son’s ability-”

Lord Zolaas was done with these polite insults. “I will hear no such challenge to his name or mine. Very well, we will silence these nameless critics. My family knows only courage and if we need to demonstrate that in Kobold blood, then so be it.”

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Hello everyone, this is Asclepius and we’re delighted to bring you a wonderful story by enderandrew, and narrated by Amber Raine, entitled

Not Like This

“Not Like This” By Zoe Marie the Bard. She could feel an ominous rush of wind as she ducked beneath the vicious cleave. The giant club would have pulverized her if it connected. But she emerged from her tumble thrusting her blade up into the calf of the monstrous giant before her. He dropped his club, but he stomped off quickly before she could pull out her blade. Scrambling to pull out a new weapon, she underestimated his rage. He pounded down with his fists, sending her into a daze. Then he picked her up and starting crushing her in his bare hands. Several ribs broke with terrifying cracks. Zoe Marie paused for dramatic effect. The patrons of Journey’s End leaned forward subconsciously, eager to hear what came next. “Not like this. I don’t die like this.” Zoe narrated, the hero coughing up blood with her words. The giant seemed dismissive of those words, throwing the hero’s body against the rock face. Her body slumped to the ground, limp and largely broken. The giant turned away, hoping to pick up his club again to finish the job. Her eyes were fading until a desperate spark sent them ablaze again. She channeled what little energy she had left to launch a dagger into the giant’s hand. He dropped the club once again. It fell with a menacing thud. The wound was minor, but the hulking beast was clearly agitated. He spun around in rage, glowering and howling. “This is how you die, with my foot crushing your puny skull!” There was no fear in her steely gaze. She was either prepared for death or she truly believed her claim, that she would not die like this. She was barely able to utter the words, but she blasted him back even further with a fireball, the black pearl and sulphurous ash crumbling in her palm as the spell consumed them. The giant’s body singed as flames licked at his flesh. This was no minor wound. His howls weren’t merely in frustration, but in excruciating pain. He gnashed his teeth before regaining his composure. Smiles spread through the crowd as tense apprehension gave way to cautious optimism. This was the part of these heroic tales they enjoyed so much, when the hero persevered in impossible circumstances over foul beasts and evil creatures. She could barely move, but she crawled to the edge of the cliff, reaching into her pouch. The giant stormed towards her at full speed. It was unbearably painful with the broken ribs, but she took in another deep breath. She knew better than to underestimate his speed this time around, but she had to wait until the absolute last moment. Then in a blink, she teleported twenty feet away, exhausting her body and the last of her reagents. The giant stomped down hard on empty air, tumbling over the cliff edge. He screamed, hitting rocks on the way down. But after the loud crash there was only silence. She knew the giant was dead. “Not like this” were her last thoughts before her body gave way for good. She succumbed to death despite her protest. A ghost rose from her still flesh as her mind fought off the fugue of pain. She stared down knowing that she would enter that husk and make it rise once more. And rise she did. She limped toward the encampment of giants knowing the town would not be safe until she finished her task. Zoe Marie finished her tale, speaking for our hero one last time. “I will not die like this, for I am an Avatar!”